The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely The Astonishing Adventures of Lord Likely The journals of Lord Likely - aristocratic adventurer and full-time lover. Follow him as he tackles roughs, solves mysteries and gets drunk on whisky. Not for the faint-hearted, or the clergy. Articles
Likely and Likelier
2007-10-13 03:18:00 July, 1856Now there were two Likelys at the campsite, my glorious self, of course, and my half-brother Lightnin' Lance Likely. This meant that now there was twice the sexual charisma, and double the loveliness, so to prevent us from being ravished by the cock-hungry braves of the Red Rump tribe, we decided to conduct our business elsewhere, namely at the top of Cockshaft Canyon.We followed a small path up to the top of the canyon, from where we had an excellent aerial view of the campsite, and where I could quite clearly see my man-servant Botter being dragged into a tent by three Indians, to be roughly buggered in return for shelter for the night. An entirely reasonable deal, I felt.I lit a cigarette and turned to face my brother, who was sat on a large rock swigging noisily from his hip-flask."Here," he said, thrusting the receptacle towards me. "Have some fire-water.""Fire-water?" I asked. I took the flask and cautiously took a sip. A familiar, warm glow filled my chest."Whisky!...
Camping It Up
2007-10-09 20:49:00 July, 1856The Red Rump tribe offered us a ride back to their camp, located in the depths of Cockshaft Canyon. Botter rode on the back of Sucking Pole's horse, while I had the dubious honour of riding with the tribe's Chief, Spurting Cock.The journey was awful, as I had not only had to contend with the intolerable heat and treacherously rocky terrain, but I also had to fend off continued lecherous advances from the over-excitable Chief. His favourite trick was to steer his horse over some particularly bumpy ground at great speed, forcing me to tighten my grip around his waist, at which point he would cry, "Oooooh! You saucy devil!" before breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. By the end of the journey I was praying for a terrible accident to befall the Indian, preferably involving a low-hanging branch, a broken leg and a pack of wild coyotes. Sadly, my prayers went unanswered.We finally arrived at the tribe's camp in the late evening, by which time I was considerably saddle-s... More About: Camping
Lord Likely and the Indians
2007-10-06 14:34:00 July, 1856.Preparing myself for the worst, I armed myself with the pistol Ludlow had given me, and edged towards the door of my carriage. These red-skinned savages had already killed two men, and I would be buggered if I would let myself become their third victim.I pulled back the hammer on the pistol, took two deep breaths, then threw the carriage door open. I hit the ground hard, performed a rather spectacular forward roll and came up with my pistol pointed in the direction of our attackers."Nobody move, or I swear to cockery I will fill you so full of ruddy lead that you will be able to use your penis as a pencil," I yelled, trying to make out the assailants through the cloud of dust thrown up by my exertions.There was silence."Well, hark at HIM," came a rather fey voice, and then the speaker stepped through the dust cloud.Now, I may not have actually met a Red Indian face-to-face, but from the images I have seen I know what one should look like; they should look lean and mean, w... More About: Indians , Lord
The Steamed Eagle
2007-10-03 15:34:00 July, 1856.Botter and I stood silently on the platform, awaiting the train that would take us to Disaster, and no doubt onto further astonishing adventures."The ruddy train is late," I said, breaking the silence."I only make it thirty seconds late, milord," Botter replied, observing a clock on the wall behind us."Late is late, Botter." I snapped. "I do so hate being kept waiting. It is the height of bad manners, and jolly bad form all round."Right on cue, as if it had heard my complaint, the train pulled into the station. It was a large, powerful-looking machine, resplendent in it's jet-black paint and red trim. It drew up beside us, and came to a gradual stop, before a small, bearded man in a train-driver's uniform descended from it and hurried over to us."Good day, folks! You here to ride aboard The Steamed Eagle ?" he exclaimed, picking up my suitcase."No, I am here to ride the train," I replied."Why, that is the train, sir! We call her The Steamed Eagle," he exclaimed, waving t...
The Last Train to Disaster
2007-10-01 01:29:00 September, 1856And so, with my birthday celebrations well and truly over, we must now return to the continued chronicles of my Astonishing American Adventure, an adventure so massive that it has so far taken some four months to transcribe. But then, would have you expected anything less sizable from my good self?Let us now rejoin our exciting exploits in the former colonies...July, 1856.So, Botter and I left the New York abode of my half-brother Ludlow Likely, and took a hansom cab to the nearest train station, ready to travel out to the American South in the hope of locating my other half-brother, the criminal gun-slinger and cattle rapist, Lightnin' Lance Likely.We arrived at the train station by lunch-time, and as we departed the carriage of our ride I made sure to tip the driver, my tip being, "Never stick your todger in a grinder", sound advice for anyone. Anyone with a todger, of course. That done, Botter and I then strode up to the station's ticket booth to purchase our tic... More About: Disaster , Train , TRAI , The Last , Aster
If You Are Going To Party, Then Party Hard
2007-09-27 09:44:00 27th September, 1856.By the Duke of Wellington's iron balls, I feel awful today. My brain feels like it has erupted into civil war, with the left cerebellum pounding the right with cannon-fire, and the right cerebellum returning fire with bloody great catapults, pelting boulders freely about my grey matter.In short, I feel like utter shit.However, I am British, so must suck it up and carry on. I would not want my journals to descend into nothing more than incessant whinings and moanings. Did Admiral Nelson sit down and write pages of self-pitying sludge when he lost his right arm in the Battle of Santa Cruz? No, of course he did not. Primarily beause his arm had been blown off, but I digress.So, back to business. My birthday party, originally scheduled to last for the evening of the twenty-third, spilled on over onto the twenty-fourth, before finally climaxing on the twenty-sixth. It was a three-day bender of the highest order, and a fine time was had by all. The 'all' in this ca... More About: Party , Hard , Going , Goin , Then
A Likely Birthday
2007-09-23 04:58:00 September 23rd, 1856Well, today is my birthday, dear journal, and I am now another year older. More grey hairs fleck my lordly temples, and my poor bones ache more than ever with each passing day, and each fresh adventure. Time is catching up with me, I fear, and one day soon Time will have me well and truly in it's grasp.However, they do say that you are only as young as you feel, and today I am feeling this delightfully limber young lady, called Helena, a very amiable twenty-two year-old Dutch prostitute whom Botter procured for my birthday. Sometimes he knows me all too well, the scruffy little turk.So, by the logic dictated above, I should feel only twenty-two today, and quite frankly I do. I am still relatively young, healthy and I am as devilishly handsome and well-equipped as ever. By the balls of Beezlebub, I feel great.Therefore I can only say this: piss off, Time, you shall not lay your corrosive fingers on my fine form. In fact, should you come anywhere near me, I shall ... More About: Birthday
Interval: Lord Likely's Schooldays
2007-09-21 19:25:00 September, 1856I thought I would take a brief respite from chronicling my Astonishing American Adventure, to give us all a chance to regain our composure and catch our collective breaths. Latecomers may wish to use this break to catch up on my incredible journey so far, by starting at the start, as I believe is traditional on these occasions.All the recent talk of homosexuality has very much reminded me of my old school days. I attended St. Bumthrusty's Public School, an all-boy establishment where such homosexual practices were rife. I can recall the many times I strode into the Common Room, only to find two boys locked firmly in a passionate, fevered embrace. It really was a very Common Room indeed.I myself had no such desires toward my fellow man, as I was pumping the school nurse at the time, a source of much pride for my young, sixteen year-old self. At least, until the Head Master caught wind of our affair. I believe he may have been tipped off by a weasely little rat called ... More About: Lord , Interval
Back on Track
2007-09-18 14:41:00 July, 1856.After leaving my room, stopping off only to roger a young serving lady on the way (to assure myself that I had not gone completely homosexual after my night with Abraham Lincoln), I ventured downstairs where my brother Ludlow and Botter were waiting for me. Ludlow was incandescent with rage."What is all this I hear about you diddling Mr. Lincoln?" he yelled at me as I casually strode down the stairs."Diddling?" I snorted. "I fucked him, if that is what you mean.""Don't you know who he is? He is a powerful figure in the Republican Party, you know! People say that one day, he'll be President!""Well, he was rather eager to let me enter his 'Oval Office'," I joked, a joke that did not seem to sit well with my rather uptight half-brother."This is not a laughing matter, Lordy," he snarled. "I want you out of my house. NOW.""Well fine," I replied coolly. "But I should warn you, Ludlow, that if you persist in being as easily stressed as you are, you shall be dead by the time ... More About: Back , Track
The Morning After
2007-09-15 18:18:00 July, 1856I awoke the next morning in a daze, not quite sure of where I was or, indeed, who I was."Lord Likely," said a voice beside me. Ah yes, I thought. How could I forget that I was Lord Likely, aristocratic adventurer, gentle-man of action, full-time sexual acrobat and all round glorious bastard, I asked myself. "Lord Likely?" came the voice again, interrupting my internal monologue. I turned to face the speaker, and found it was Mr. Abraham Lincoln, lying naked in the bed beside me.Suddenly, a hundred different memories came flooding back, raising a thousand different questions."Oh! Mr. Lincoln! Um...good morning, I suppose." I said."Good morning, Likely," Lincoln said. "And how are you?""Oh! Fine, fine." I replied. "And yourself?...""Yes, fine." Lincoln answered, pulling the bed-sheet over himself. We sat in awkward silence, a clock in the corner of the bedroom trying it's best to fill the quiet with it's loud ticking. I reached over to a half-full glass of wine sitting on ... More About: Morning
Lincoln Sausage
2007-09-10 17:31:00 July, 1856.Despite Ludlow's rather vocal protests, I decided to go off and fraternize with the other guests at the party, in the vain hope that at least one of them might want to roger me senseless.Alas, all I seemed to meet were uptight, prissy socialites who took offence at my usual party trick whereby I pull down my trousers, unleash my Lord Palmerston, and yell: "Look, ladies! Big Ben!" One particularly sniffy woman told me that my penis was not at all reliable as a timepiece, a statement with which I took great exception, arguing that when my todger was fully erect, I knew it was precisely time for humping. She snorted and turned away, the miserable, fat sow.One rather delectable girl did seem to be gagging for a pounding from my Palmerston. She was a young, rich heiress called Barcelona Ritz, but while she let me grope her, I soon tired of her non-stop chattering, as she warbled on about her tedious, pointless existence, and I had to go off to get more booze to help block ou... More About: Lincoln , Sausage , Ausa
A Rather Drunk Englishman in New York
2007-09-07 13:00:00 July, 1856.Ludlow led Botter and I into his considerably spacious abode on the outskirts of New York City, stubbornly refusing to impart more information about my father's continued existence. "Oh, don't let us worry about that now!" he kept saying absently, ignoring my desire to very much worry about it now. I could have throttled the blighter, but then I remembered that he was my half-brother, and more importantly that he would be hosting a large party in the evening. Strangling one's host is right at the top of the list of things one should not do when attending a social function, just above the rule stating that one should not slip anything into the hostess' vagina, or backside.As I sent Botter upstairs to prepare my room and unpack what remained of my luggage, Ludlow introduced me to his wife, Emily-Rose, a rather chubby and busty young lady, with blonde curls and a radiant complexion. I wondered if Ludlow would let me pump her, as I was family after all, but thought better... More About: Drunk , New-York
The Outlawed Likely
2007-09-04 13:08:00 July, 1856.It is not often one learns that they have a hitherto unknown half-brother, who is on the run from the law and who is partial to wanton acts of bestiality. Indeed, many people may go through their entire life without learning such a fact. However, the Likely family tree is a tangled, over-grown mess, concealing many dark secrets in it's twisted branches, so such revelations are more common place to me than I would care to admit. Ever since my late father regaled me with the story of my great aunt, Tabitha Likely, who hospitalised twenty-two men using nothing more than her ample breasts, I considered myself well-prepared for any further murky revelations about our family, but as Ludlow recited the list of Lance Likely's nefarious activities, I am not ashamed to admit that even I was a little shocked, a feeling that only grew as Ludlow unfurled a poster he retrieved from behind his seat in the carriage, and displayed it to me.I felt a shiver creep down my lordly spine, as ... More About: The O
Falling From the Family Tree
2007-08-31 18:19:00 July, 1856I emerged from the police station, blinking, into the hot, bright, sunny streets of New York. People bustled through the city, trying to avoid getting run over by one of the numerous carriages that swept up and down the road, seemingly intent on not stopping for anyone."Fuck me, it's warm," I said, removing my coat and thrusting into Botter's outstretched arms."I know. Wonderful, isn't it?" chirped Ludlow, who was leaning against a large, black carriage and smoking a cigarette."The only creatures that can possibly tolerate this kind of heat are lizards. You aren't a lizard, are you Ludlow? Some sort of strange, freakish lizard-man?" I replied. "Our father didn't impregnate a lizard on his travels, did he?""Oh, Lordy!" Ludlow beamed, tossing his dog-end onto the street. "You are so English! Here you are, in one of the most exciting and expansive cities on the globe, and you stand there complaining about the heat! You are so funny!"As my brother broke into a rather rau... More About: Family , Tree , Family Tree , The Family
The Law is an Ass
2007-08-29 01:26:00 July 1856My eyes snapped open, and I sat bolt upright, sweat pouring off of my brow."Where in the name of cockery am I?" I yelled, leaping to my feet, letting a filthy cotton bed-sheet fall to the ground as I did. I attempted to survey my strange surroundings, but the room appeared to be spinning quite rapidly around me. I waited until the room had the damned decency to stop revolving, and then I dashed to a set of steel bars ahead of me, and began hollering for attention."Room service!" I snapped. "Room service! Hello? Excuse me? ROOM SERVICE?"I felt an arm pull me gently away from the bars. It was Botter, my man-servant. I almost clouted him, but he raised his hands and stopped me."My lord," he said softly, "you're in prison. Don't you remember? Don't you remember a thing?"I racked my brains in an attempt to pluck any random memories that might hold some clue as to how I wound up incarcerated in such a manner. I drew a blank."I remember...leaving England," I replied slowly."Is ...
The Jerker Report
2007-08-25 12:38:00 July, 1856.From the report of Captain Dick Jerker, of the New York City Police Department:I ordered my men to continue firing upon the pirate ship 'The Hairy Clam' that was advancing onto US shores, until I saw the vessel rocked with explosions and saw it sink beneath the waves, no doubt taking it's criminal pirate crew with it.As we celebrated a job well done, I suddenly noticed two figures appearing from the smoking wreckage, astride two large wooden barrels. One was a tall man, sporting a top hat and who seemed to be contentedly sipping on a glass of alcohol, stopping every so often to refill his glass from a tap on the barrel he was sat upon. The other, smaller man, meanwhile, was frantically paddling trying to keep himself afloat. Naturally, we were rather taken aback by this sight, and I ordered my men to stand down as the two men approached dry land, as I was eager to question them.Once they came into shallow waters, I sent two men to escort them up to me. I introduced mys... More About: Report
A Warm Welcome to America
2007-08-22 13:01:00 July, 1856.As we approached solid land for the first time in weeks, I could clearly see the stars and stripes of the America n flag flying from the roof-top of a small building on the coast. Either we had chanced upon another country with precisely the same flag as the US, or we were finally here: America."We are here, Botter!" I exclaimed, my head still throbbing from my drunken antics. "We made it to America, at last! Quickly, crack open another barrel of rum, I feel like celebrating!""I...I think that is not such a good idea, milord," Botter said."Hmmm, you are probably right, Botter," I mused, looking at the streaks of vomit marking my coat. "Alright, then - I shall go and scrub up, while you steer us in. Ah-ha! America!"I started to head off to the cabin, when Botter called out to me."Milord, look at all those people gathered on the shore, there.""Ha! They have probably heard that the world-famous Lord Likely, aristocratic adventurer and gentle-man of action, is headed to their ...
What Shall We Do With the Drunken Sailor?
2007-08-19 13:30:00 July, 1856And so, having taken complete and utter control of the Hairy Clam, we continued to sail onwards to America, to answer the call from my brother, Ludlow.I say 'we', but of course Botter did most of the actual sailing, while I decided to relieve the ship of it's supplies of rum, of which there was a plentiful and abundant supply. Suffice to say, after a day and a half of non-stop drinking, I did become quite, quite drunk, and thus the remainder of our voyage remains quite an indistinct blur.I do remember swinging from the masts of the ship, totally naked, yelling, "I am a jolly rogerer!" before falling onto the deck with an almighty thud, bending my cutlass as I did. No-one should have to endure the agony of a bent cutlass, let me tell you.Later on, I am told I tried to engage a shark in a bout of fisticuffs, as the hungry creature swam alongside our vessel. Allegedly, I called the shark, "a fang-faced, fin-backed bastard" and then I began wildly swinging my fists in it's... More About: Sailor
Clam Lappers
2007-08-16 12:59:00 June, 1856"There you go, my dear," I said, rolling off of Captain Labia NoBeard, after I had issued forth within her."Thank you, your lordship," panted Labia, beads of sweat glistening on her chest. "Many thanks indeed.""Oh no, thank you," I replied, lighting up two cigarettes. "It was very decent of you to let this condemned man have a last...meal, as it were.""Well, I could not deny you your reasonable request," smiled Labia, taking one of the cigarettes from me, and drawing upon it slowly. "It only seems a pity that I have to force you to a watery death on the morrow. ""Well, you are only doing your duty as a pirate, my dear. Really, there are no hard feelings," I said, casually."What a man you are, your lordship," Labia sighed, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. "I doubt I shall find another quite able to measure up to you.""Talking of which," I exclaimed, stubbing out my cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "I feel my Lord Palmerston is ready to go again. Shall we?""Rather!" L... More About: Clam
Scratching the Itch
2007-08-12 17:05:00 June, 1856.And so, Botter and I went on to spend the next couple of days in the captivity of the comely lady pirates. It was not an uncomfortable captivity; indeed, we were allowed to wander freely about the decks of the Hairy Clam, we were fed well, and enjoyed frequent intercourse with the female crew as and when they demanded it, which was often, as the poor ladies had been starved of male company for months. Luckily, I was more than up for the task, although I feared Botter might wind up spraining something before too long.However, as agreeable as our situation was, the more pressing matter of getting to America to aid my brother Ludlow played upon my mind, and I spent much of the time in between pumpings trying to formulate a plan for our escape.On one such night, Botter and I were holed up in our cabin, frantically trying to plot our bid for freedom."What about, if we dress up as ladies, milord? Then the other ladies might confuse us for the other crew members, and think the r... More About: Scratching , Scratch
Interval: Lord Likely meets LoopyLisa21f
2007-08-09 00:26:00 August, 1856I wonder if I may momentarily interrupt my recollections about my damned voyage to America, to inform you all of a rather bizarre occurrence which befell me recently.What am I saying? Of course I cocking-well may momentarily interrupt - these are my ruddy journals and I shall do as I damned well please!So, to business.As a rich and charming member of the aristocracy, with a gargantuan todger, I receive many more marriage proposals than the next man (the next man, in my instance, happens to be my man-servant, Botter, so such a boast really is not all that impressive once you take into consideration Botter's foul and ungodly nature).To expedite the process of sifting through the countless proposals, I devised a rather splendid questionnaire, featuring some carefully thought-out questions designed to single-out those ladies best suited to marrying one such as wondrous as myself.The first lady-in-waiting to partake in my rigourous interrogation was a Miss Lisa Phegan, who ... More About: Lord , Loop , Interval
Post-Coital Peril
2007-08-07 14:18:00 June, 1856It was several hours later when Botter and I finally emerged from the cabin of the Hairy Clam, having been roundly ravaged by the sex-starved female pirates. We both simultaneously lit up a post-coital cigarette each, and gazed out over the moon-lit waters of the ocean."I haven't seen that many nipples since I worked in a cattery," Botter finally said, breaking the silence."Welcome to my world, Botter," I replied, exhaling smoke into the cold, night air. "A never-ending procession of tits and fannies.""I think the short brunette quite fancied me," Botter continued."The blind one with two wooden eyes?""Yeah, that's the one.""That would make sense," I said.We fell into silence again, quietly drawing on our cigarettes. Botter shuffled awkwardly, then spoke again."I...thank you, milord," said Botter. "It has been a while since I felt the gentle touch of a woman.""I would wager that it has been even longer since you felt the gentle breast of a woman," I replied."Yeah," Botter... More About: Post
The Astonishing Adventures of Lady Likely
2007-03-18 12:44:00 Mothering Sunday, 1856.I do not know much about my own mother. I have never met her, or if I did, I certainly do not recall the encounter.My mother, unlike my father, was not a member of the British aristocracy. She was, in fact, a one-eyed prostitute from the Far East, whom my father banged rotten when he went over there on one of his frequent holidays.When she fell pregnant, my father was naturally aggrieved, as fathering a child out of wedlock is terribly frowned upon in society. On the scale of impropriety, it rests somewhere between befriending a Frenchman, and kicking a horse in the gonads.Nevertheless, my father made preparations to bring my mother to England so that she could give birth on British soil. However, there was a terrible incident on the boat bringing the pair to England, that almost resulted in the world being deprived of my wondrous self.Some no-good Russian sailors had taken a liking to my mother, despite her swollen, pregnant state, and made unseemly advances ... More About: Venture , Adventure , Lady , Adventures , Like
The End of The Ends
2007-03-15 05:01:00 March 15th, 1856"That's right, no cock. Not so much as a stump. All of it - gone."Sir Marcus Chuffington-Fapps flailed his arms wildly, as he regaled us with the story of his unfortunate encounter with Mrs. Dinklesuck and her blood-thirsty hussies.We were enjoying a light supper at a local eatery, all of us eating the steak, having respectfully passed on the offer of sausages."Those harridans were devising an awful plot, Mr, Likely,""Lord," I corrected."Excuse me. Those harridans were devising an awful plot, Mr. Lord."I rolled my eyes, but decided to let the error slide, this time. Chuffington-Fapps continued on."They had reasoned that the only thing women wanted from men was to feel the thrust of a gentleman's penis in their quivering lady-holes. Thus, they went on to conclude that if they could somehow remove the penis, and have it as an entirely separate entity, they would be able to pleasure themselves and no longer require the male of the species."I spluttered on the glass of... More About: Ends
A Gruesome Discovery
2007-03-14 01:59:00 Still in March, 1856Having roundly defeated Mrs. Dinklesuck and her killer prostitutes, my companions and I entered their house to ascertain exactly what terrible secrets lay within, and hopefully bring this whole awful affair to it's conclusion.A thorough search of the building proved fruitless. There seemed nothing remotely untoward about the house, save perhaps the offensively cheap furniture on display.Inspector Spunkleford and I reconvened in the lounge, having both found nothing of any interest."Where's Botter?" I inquired. "I swear, if he's gone off to touch himself inappropriately again, I will thrash him to within an inch of his worthless life."Spunkleford opened his mouth to reply, when a blood-curdling scream interrupted him."Man alive!" I cried. "That was surely Botter himself! Only he could scream in such a womanly manner.""I think it came from the back garden, Likely!""Then we must make haste to the back garden, Inspector!" I said, and so we dashed off to see what a... More About: Discovery , Cover , Over , Disco , Discover
Fight to the End
2007-03-13 03:49:00 The same day, 1856In some of my wildest dreams, I have fantasised about having a legion of prostitutes descend upon me, ready and willing to perform any sexual act my filthy mind could conjure.What reality presented to me instead, however, was a legion of prostitutes descending upon me, bearing an assortment of weapons, ready and willing to slay me in whatever fashion their cold, dark hearts could conceive.Mrs. Dinklesuck cackled loudly as her sex-crazed soldiers bore down upon us. Inspector Spunkleford and I fired our pistols frantically, from our meagre vantage point behind the small, stone wishing-well, while Botter looked on, boggle-eyed."BOTTER!" I snapped. "Grab your weapon and start shooting!""My thoughts exactly, your lordship," Botter said, rubbing his groin.I sighed."Likely!" cried Spunkleford, as he fired a bullet straight into a whore's leg. "We can't hold these ladies off on our own! We need to do something, with immediate effect!""I couldn't agree more," I said, as ... More About: Fight
Life's A Bitch
2007-03-12 15:33:00 March the Twelfth, Eighteen Fifty-SixWe returned to Mrs. Dinklesuck's house-come-brothel promptly, eager to make our acquaintance of this Mark fellow, and bring to a conclusion this baffling mystery.Inspector Spunkleford knocked briskly upon the door, which was then opened by the senior slut herself."Oh!", she exclaimed, genuinely surprised to see us again. "It's you gentleman. What a...pleasant surprise, I must say. So, what can I do for you fine gents? Blowjob? Handjob? Titwank...I'm sure I can accommodate you in any way you desire."She rolled her tongue suggestively across her wizened, old lips. I retched slightly."Uh, no thank you, m'am. We just have a couple more questions, if you don't mind." said Spunkleford, clearly revolted as well."Oh, no problem, Inspector. How can I help?""We have reason to believe there is a gentleman who is something of a regular client of yours. A fellow named Mark. We'd like to...""MARK?" snapped Mrs. Dinklesuck, her demeanour changing in a fl... More About: Life , Bitch
A Cryptic Clue
2007-03-12 04:29:00 Another day, 1856"Botter, Inspector...pay close attention now. I believe I have found another piece of the puzzle," I said, beckoning to my companions.We were sat in a small tea-shop in London Town, the day after our unfortunate punch-up in the Lamb and Fist. I held in one hand a cup of Earl Grey, and in the other the accursed letter that had bought us all the way to the capital."Now, gentleman, and Botter, take another look at this. What strikes you about it, upon first glance?""Beats me, guv. Looks like an ordinary cup of tea, to me."I rolled my eyes to express my deep, inner despair."Not the tea, Botter, you useless twat. I am referring to the letter, here."I slammed the letter down on the table. The two men leaned across and studied the note carefully."Well," said Inspector Spunkleford, rubbing his temples, "The writer incorrectly addresses you as 'Sir', as opposed to 'Lordship', or such.""EXACTLY!" I said, thumping the table so hard that it caused my tea to spill over the c... More About: Crypt
Brawls I Have Known
2007-03-11 02:36:00 March 11th, 1856My latest unsavoury encounter at the Lamb and Fist was not the first time I had entered into such a fracas, and I rather suspect it shall not be my last.Being a Lord, with fair, unblemished skin; and being in possession of wealth and breeding far beyond the wildest imaginings of my fellow man, I am naturally a target for the working class' envious outbursts.Here now are some of the more vivid clashes I have endured in varying public houses throughout the land:The Queen's Flaps: This particular establishment was prone to holding a weekly quiz, with rather pathetic prizes on offer. These ranged from a free beverage of the winner's choice, to a crudely-mounted, freshly-stuffed squirrel. Nevertheless, out of sheer boredom I partook of this game, and quickly found myself winning fairly decisively.I was rather aggressively challenged by one of the other competitors, who claimed that as a well-educated member of the aristocracy, I was at a distinct advantage. I explained... More About: Have , Know , Brawl , Rawls
Answers in a Bottle
More articles from this author:2007-03-10 02:50:00 10th March, 1856Our investigations, having turned up nothing more than a tin of shortbread and a distinct sense of repulsion, had ground to a halt.Deciding that we needed a moment to collect our thoughts, I decided we should immediately set forth to a nearby drinking establishment, and get ourselves shit-faced.We chanced upon a local public-house called 'The Lamb and Fist', where we set about consuming as much alcohol as we could.It was around the early evening, after I had imbibed one whisky too many, that I found myself in a conflagration with a rather burly fellow."Hey, you," he said, jabbing at my chest with a large, grubby finger. "You spilled my pint.""I fear you are mistaken, my good man," I retorted. "I spilt your pint. We are not on the colonies now, you know."The brute stood up and towered over me."Huh. Think you're clever, do ya, you ponce?""I think nothing. I know I am clever, far cleverer than you, even in my current inebriated state.""I am gonna smash your smug face... More About: Answer , Answers , Bottle 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 |
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