Victorian Era Datalounge

There's an opening for a strapping, "bookish"lad to assist the Lord with archiving the papers of the manor, and general duties on the estate.

The Lord is said to be generous with those who find his favor

I'd like to send these strapping lads a sexy telegram!

I know he killed the president and all, but does anyone else find John Wilkes Booth hot?

"I said good day, Sir!" = Die in a grease fire.

The Rachel Maddow Show sometimes reached an audience of hundreds at the Ladies' Temperance Union:

[post redacted because linking to dailymail.co.uk clearly indicates that the poster is either a troll or an idiot (probably both, honestly.) Our advice is that you just ignore this poster but whatever you do, don't click on any link to this putrid rag.]

I hope Queen Victoria skips her son Bertie and gives the crown to Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence.

Has Jack ripped your hole.

"You write with a fat quill"

Weekly bathing: just a passing fancy?

I'm pretty sure that Jack the Ripper is really the Prince of Wales.

Unfortunately, Princess Alexandra survived her carriage accident in Paris.

Thinking Of Putting In A Fernery. Anyone Have One?

Tasteful Friends, let's discuss Apsley House, home of the Duke of Wellington

Hot Dudes In Frock Coats

My Chimney Sweep Asked Me Out

Who's a bigger cunt, Lily Langtry or Sarah Bernhardt?

Percival Cody's Indecent Nickelodeons, Part VII: Can the Return of Eugen Sandow Save This Sinking Ship?

Our new issue of [italic]Dowager Quarterly[/italic] has arrived through the mails!

Is there verificata von sizemeat for Kaiser Wilhelm? He's got that weird little arm so it makes me think he's got a weird little schwanz.

[bold]I Just Had a Lesbian Fling with Gertrude Stein[/bold]

My girl mayo flew out of my HAM faster than you can say, "I wanna finger-fuck a Cubist poet."

Has anyone here visited the telegraph boys at 19 Cleveland Street?

Men presenting (dirty) holes.

General Gordon - homo or just married to his career?

I'd like a new walking stick, any suggestions?

It's exhausting "keeping up" with the Brontës. Talk about overexposed!

Fellow Greek love enthusiasts: recently, I was told that in this day and age, sending potential suitors stereopticons of one's John Thomas is no longer frowned upon, but rather, considered de rigueur. Is this so?

I am making me some pence,for drinking and flopping tonight. That Jack with the mustache in his overcoat, fancy hat, and cayying the surgical bag looks so fucking hot!

Disliking your own biological sex is just not normal.

R28, my dear, thou art in danger, gurl

Wild Bill Hickok was so well endowed, he started a traveling minstrel porn show. It was such a success, he changed the spelling of his name to Hicock....

How can Benjamin Harrison be president? He lost the popular vote! I hope this never happens again.

Maidens wishing to attend SpinsterFest, beware! Miss Denise's coach-and-four, the Rainbow Express, is a dilapidated rattletrap, and Miss Denise is a charlatan.

Lavender, rosemary and cedar, glorious aftershave or must for social engagements?

I cannot believe Victoria is allowing her favorite granddaughter to marry into the Russian Imperial family.

Mary Morstan: beard for SH's bitch.

Presenting Barnum & Bailey Sideshow Freaks Gio & Tommy

In your dreams, R36. Irene Adler is a hot blooded vixen. She's no one's beard--if she's not getting any satisfaction, she's out of there.

Inbred Hemos: Those Hun princes

Pioneer Woman Frau-cunt Laura Ingalls Wilder: I want her husband Almanzo in me, quite deeply:

"How running away with the knife grinder led to my becoming a millionaire" the newest novel of perseverance and pluck by O'Henry, on sale shortly

It's O. Henry, R41

Holmes and Watson: Is It Love?

Or are they just two confirmed bachelors sharing expenses?

Like most of us?

R38 - admiring her doesn't negate his interest in jizz.

Has anyone here been to one of those hospitals staffed with nurses trained by that Florence Nightingale? Are they worth the extra money? I mean, I don't mind a little vomit on the floor, it IS a hospital after all.

I heard those hussies gave the troops syphilis, R45, so no.

One is tearing one's handlebar moustaches out in dread anticipation of the forthcoming soiree at my London flat. Cook suggests: Transparent soup, Pidgeons Comport, Fricasee of Veal served with bottled peas, Sheep's rumps and kidneys in rice, and Apple Charlotte. What say you fine fellows?

HOT SOLDIERS THREAD: Post pictures of hot soldiers here:

Men showing each other Affection:

Lord Alfred Douglas is THIRSTY.

The Thirst is real, Gents:

Let's be Things in Harris's List of Covent Garden Ladies.

Mary Todd Lincoln's collapse is COMPLETE.

Terminally ill datalounger here - what should I wear for my official post-mortem portrait, tasteful friends?

After an intimate encounter, my visitor requested such amenities as refreshments and towels. Harrumph, my good man, what do you take me for, an innkeeper?

Queen Victoria's granddaughters: let's dish! I'll start, what's with that slutty Marie of Edinburgh?

Have you heard about that silly goose, John Ruskin? Married Effie when he was 28, but no one told him the the flower she would gave him on her wedding night would be a fuzzy one.

You may have your pantywaist fellows in vests and topcoats. I prefer my menfolk to be of a strapping nature, as visualized in these ribald chromatographs by that rebel artiste and scientist motion capture, Muybridge!

***EXTRA***Oscar Wilde arrested!!

This is why we love us

Drinking from saucers: what sayeth the datalounge??

Oscar Wilde's collapse is complete!!!

Let's be Countess Willesden-Smythe's annual fancy dress ball!

"I cannot believe Victoria is allowing her favorite granddaughter to marry into the Russian Imperial family."

Is it true that her son-in-law, The Marquess of Lorne, is of the persuasion?

One feels at home here.

The Moorish influence is of great concern, apparently these heathens are flinging Uranians from the attic 'pon the hour!

When I was younger I used to tap out my telegraph messages using a pencil. Surely everyone suspected I was a inverted!

I saw Prince Eddy in Cleveland Street and her waist was so cinched she looked like a wispy wasp.

But we know her stinger isn't long enough to pierce anything.

R66 i had the same thought, then remembered that one didn't actually transmit one's own telegram messages.

Chimney pots, flower pots and chamber pots are NOT interchangeable in their uses, Eliza.

Get if fucking straight.

Mary!

I cut my finger and my whole arm is infected. They say I'm gonna die

Im dating a honey dipper, should i make him bathe first?

I'm moving to Dupont Circle. The public convenience there will make such a delightful place for meeting fellow Uranians.

I admire that Marquis of Queensbury so! Such devotion to the manly arts that he spends a great deal of time with the lads, their chests bared, practicing fisticuffs.

Now, if only he would pay but slight attention to those two wearers of the Green Carnation, his sons, or else they may both end up as somdomites!

Why does it seem that all gay men are wearing muttonchops like this? They all look like this in Chelsea.

My roommate has consumption. Should I give him mercury, or is that for syphilis?

Hell's Kitchen is full of slatterns!

R76 I heartily recommend laudanum for the cough. He might like Vin Coca as well, if he is particularly fatigued. Leave the mercury to the syphilitics.

You recommend laudanum for everything, R78!

Wispy Edward Burne-Jones and hot bear William Morris: Who's the top in THAT relationship?

Who here has committed the sin of the Greeks with that womanly-assed costermonger?

No, not the one with the dead eels; the one who polishes his gawfs in a rather suggestive manner. I know one of you mandrakes must have had him. Spill!

Privy-smoked kippers: yea or nay?

Dear friends of mine, Henry and Clara Lawson just had a bonny wee daughter last week. They named her "Helen" and with her God given set of lungs they think she'd be a natural for the stage one day!!!

Have you seen this shocking new D'oyly Carte musical at the Savoy by Gilbert & Sullivan?

Fine Christian white actors and singers playing Japanese savages and singing the most abominable songs.

It's a disgrace and should be taken off the stage immediately!

What next? African savages portraying the Founders of our Great Nation!??!?!

You know me; I refuse to tittle tattle but have you noticed that strapping young buck Newland Archer has been seen out and about with his supposed beloved May Welland's notorious cousin, the Countess Olenska?

Oh, the escandalo!!!

I'm clutching my pearls in horror at the disgrace this might bring on two of our oldest and dearest noble families!!!

I don't wish to criticise our beloved royal family, but the life of HRH the Princess Beatrice seems one endless holiday! And that of her sister as well. And in the most desirable locations -- Blackpool, Scarborough and even Dieppe! Can't these girls knuckle down to some constructive embroidery?

I simply can't think straight since Mr Gladstone was elected! SUCH a coarse, common, bumptious man. The Duchess of Bolton said to me she considered it the end times, and was forming a prayer circle. I wonder if this could be in any way a slight over-reaction?

My slender friend Algernon consumes six boxes of Beechams Pills a week and spends most of his time evacuating in the water closet.

Is an obsession with ones bowels a healthy hobby, or should I intervene, and suggest stamps?

Oh, dear.

I have it on good authority that respected physician Dr. Henry Jekyll is leading a double life.

Have any of you fellows attended an orgy at Dublin Castle?

Prince Albert's Prince Albert

Poor Oscar, dying on the treadmill.

Bet his ass is firm after that workout though.

Oscar Wilde, Posing Sodomite.

For once, Oscar was not posing.

Tell me, 88, does your friend Algernon have a friend named Jack, and do they go "bunburying"? [html removed]

Latest installment of A Tale of Two Cities!

My friend, Count Dracula spends a lot of time with that American from North Massachusetts, Collinwood, Maine. I can't get used to it being an independent state, sorry. Barnabas, is his name, I believe. Always sleeping off their hangovers all day. His family made their money in shipping, and fishery.

*kisses poppet*

I'm not one to complain, as you gentlemen know, but I'm getting rather restive about General Gordon installing Sir Rudolf von Slatin as govenor. It rather makes one yearn for a return of Egyptian rule!

Rudolf von Slatin ..family?

Family...can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em!

Bravo R102

R95, you misspelled "Somdomite [sic

There used to be a widely told but probably spurious tale that Wilde's last words on his deathbed were "Either that wallpaper goes or I do!"

This succulent Nebraskan cage meat has got Momma's mussy whistling like a stovetop copper kettle!

[post redacted because linking to dailymail.co.uk clearly indicates that the poster is either a troll or an idiot (probably both, honestly.) Our advice is that you just ignore this poster but whatever you do, don't click on any link to this putrid rag.]

Is it, or is it not, more efficacious in one's pursuit of those Elysian muscular contractions to do so after having imbibed absinthe? Or will one arrive more adroitly at that desired stop in the absence of absinthe?

Darfur Orphan, has General Gordon buggered you yet?

If we MUTILATE our baby boys they won't masturbate when they are older.

I do not hesitate to avow that should one more of those mincing, pantywaisted Nancy boys gazes upon my countenance with a twinkle in his eye or so much as an impish grin, then I shall have no other choice but to give that man a good talking to.

I heard they were all gay in the Paris Commune.

The Divine Express Sisi has I'm told, a 16 inch waist!

Prince Albert's Prince Albert: hot or not?

Have you read that new novella called "The Time Machine"? What an interesting concept, this "time travel". It's called "Science Fiction", I believe. The author was influenced by his teacher, Thomas Henry Huxley, who was an early advocate of Evolution. I think that time travel is easier to believe than that man evolved from an ape.

R112, All the girls were wearing their hair like this.

It is with a sunken spirit that I relay to one and all that our beloved Lord Tennyson has succumbed! Prithee, I wonder--as one does--what was on his phonograph?

I'm visiting London next month and want to go cottaging. Where are the hot spots?

Has anyone here paid for sex while holidaying on Taormina? How much do those horse-hung "ragazzi" charge?

That saucy MP Lady Lindsey Graham was espied the other eve at a molly house, cavorting with strapping young men of the dusky persuasion!

I want Lewis Powell to ravish my boy-fanny unmercifully!

"It's not hard for a man to lose a little week, now and again".

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells, as adapted for television. I know this because I used my time machine.

George takes three unidentified books into the future. Which three books would you take? Given that age, I think George took:

The Bible, Darwin's Book on Evolution, and perhaps a practical book on agriculture.

“…one of the foulest and most disgraceful orgies that ever disgraced any town.” reports The Huddersfield Daily Chronicle, in today's edition, October 1, 1880!

“About nine o’clock cabs began to arrive at the hall, the occupants being young men, who in most instances brought portmanteaus or tin boxes with them. A considerable number were in female attire and among the costumes were several low-bodied dresses. In all 47 persons entered the building, and of these 22 were dressed as women. All the windows of the ballroom had been “carefully covered with calico or paper to prevent observation.” Only one window had been left cracked “a few inches” for ventilation. It was through this window that Detective-Sergeant Jerome Caminada and “two or three of his constables” watched the suspects over the next several hours. What they saw was later described by Mr. Cobbett, the prosecutor in the case, as “one of the foulest and most disgraceful orgies that ever disgraced any town.”

Does anyone know how to get blood out of fine carpets? Those damned haemophiliac grandchildren!

I just saw some whore's ankle when she was lifting her skirt crossing the street. Disgusting.

We're told that different parts of the Italy will become one county. That seems bold. How will we figure out the cuisine (such as it is)?

Lord Kitchener - who's his bf?

Several of my grandsons enjoyed the homosex. And at least two of my granddaughters married pansies.

Personally, I wanted to establish the very first chapter of PFLAG, but my ministers advised against it and instead they wanted me to sign a law making homosexual acts between men illegal. What's a good constitutional monarch to do? I did as my government asked, of course.

You had to wait until 1904 to be cucumbered.

I hear Joseph Merrick is actually referred to as "the elephant man" because of his VERY generous endowment! Sir Frederick Treves is alleged to have seen his whore pipe in the flesh and is adamant that it is indeed extra large. That immodest dollymop has been mailing nude pictures of himself to all the fashionable gentlemen of London but of course he is careful not to show everything!

Lumber camp

An acquaintance has sent me daguerrotypes of his nude form through the afternoon post.

Too much absinthe and laudanum, I fear I've got the morbs again.

I'm in a temp-to-hire position at this company. Today I went to eat a pasty in my carriage and afterward decided to fetch mettle...

The [italic]de rigueur [/italic] component of the fashionable invert's nightly toilette is Queen Mary of Teck Mint Julep Beauty Poultice.

If any of you somdomites goes near my sons I will thrash you!

Good sir, it defies the reasonable expectations of any rational man as to why you have set upon delivering such a venomous vituperation to me in response to my perfectly unobjectionable query. When I set out to inquire of you all whether a chap--one who has established a clear predilection for carnal relations with unattached and disreputable members of the fairer sex--could, by means of the liberal application of ales and spirits, be induced to engage in passionate, fleeting acts most Uranian, never did I foresee that I would receive such an unwarranted calumny from the likes of you. Why, one cannot help but wonder, therefore, if perhaps you suffer from an imbalance of the humors and possibly did not--by choice or by omission--consume the curative powders prescribed by your physician to ward against fits of derangement and hysteria?

By all that is holy, what abominable stench this way wafts? Could it be possible that this foul and fetid ichor proceeds from Mistress Cheryl?

I'm taking the Grand Tour this summer, what can I expect from the foreign mollyhouses? How does one approach a continental Mary-Ann ?

What a saucy rake at R138!

Henry James - gay or asexual?

Is Henry's latest story "The Beast in the Jungle"really about the closet? Discuss.

-VIII/X

By virtue of that other thread, I'll treat my Consumption with soup and, um, nuts, or something. And prayer, of course.

Best thread ever, gentlemen.

I'm going to Piccadilly to pick up some he-strumpets, wish me luck

Can anyone recommend a good fainting couch? When I have the vapors I need something to fall into.

Say, on your way back from America can you bring me one of those black "assistants" to help around the house? I'll give you 100 pounds do you think that will be enough? Not too dark though...

That painter, Walter Sickert, is, rumored to have an abnormal penis, anybody on DL hear this?

What's your favorite Baron von Gloeden photograph?

Bustles, parasols.

My footwear has been rendered useless by your water closet. Prithee, what do you intend to do about it?

Far From the Madding Crowd is overrated shit. There, I said it!

To [R104]: That's how the Marquis of Queensbury notoriously spelled it, as written by him on the card he gave Wilde, causing Wilde's lawsuit and later conviction.

I say, did anyone happen to attend the recent assemblage of inverts on Piccadilly Circus? While there was the usual mafficking one comes to expect at gatherings such as these, there was an extraordinary spectacle as an organization known as [italic]Daughters of Sapphos upon Velocipedes![/italic] If I were not a God-fearing man, I have no hesitation in concluding that the prominent display of crinkum-crankums would have slain me on the spot!

I love this thread. Keep up the good work!

Of course we got off at the Queen's Bench!

Franny and Stella

What pray, are the best obscure race music gramophone recordings?

Ah..Mr. Go,

Lace caftans. Earrings, you say? Nonsense! Away with such ostentatious displays of ear frippery, madam. One tries to maintain a sense of humility and decorum in such things.

Tiaras. Court trains.

Dearest bitch at r74 - it is the Marquess of Queensbury, not the Marquis. Get it right next time or I'll practice fisticuffs on your face.

Lord Alfred Douglas and Oscar Wilde - the sodomite power couple!

Gentlemen you have out done yourselves.

Cheryl's pussy stinks like everyone else's.

Can we just say no to this horrid trend of cutting off the hair of dead people, braiding it, and then framing it to hang on the wall?

A woman on holiday at the White Cliffs of Dover foolishly set up a daguerreotype to capture an image of herself as she stood on one foot at the edge of the cliff, and a bird swooping by caused her to lose her balance and plummet to her death. I think that chap Darwin might be on to something!

I've just acquired the most delicious piece from that Tuke chap.

Envious, you female curs?

Pardons and allow me to attempt my directions again

r143, consumption is an imaginary malady women with no other occupation conjure for their entertainment

A women's festival? In Michigan, you say!

Splendid! What a gambol!

And a train ride too!

Do you cradle your teacup?

I say, are you fellows who practice the unspeakable vice of the Greeks? I am asking for a friend.

[quote] Dearest bitch at [R74] - it is the Marquess of Queensbury, not the Marquis. Get it right next time or I'll practice fisticuffs on your face.

You really ARE common. It wasn't until the 19th century that the spelling of "Marquess" was introduced. Peers of that rank before then were titled "Marquis". The Marquess of Queensbury may have chosen to be known by the modern spelling, but by law, he was still the Marquis. Throughout Victoria's reign, the old nobility used both spellings, but those created marquesses during her reign were legally registered with the new spelling only.

One simply can't mount one's penny-farthing without the help of a good, sturdy pair of gentleman's hands!

One of our guests at our summer estate overstayed his welcome. It was well past the season, and we had already hastened our departure; our sundries and supplies had been packed up, and he wanted a meal and a bathe!

All Jeeves had to offer were a towel and some fowl meatballs Cook had simmering for the staff.

I ask you, were we rude not to accommodate him moreso? It's not as if we are hoteliers!

I have the prospect of employment in Manchester. Shall I accept it?

So Prince Felix Yusupov is visiting London for a last fling before his marriage to some dour Russian named Princess Irina. He told the Daily Mail it's true love. Bitch Please. Bet he wears more lace at the wedding than she does.

Oh, and I see in the Court Circular that Queen Isabel II of Spain is set to visit Queen Victoria. OMG can you imagine the two of them trying to fit into a carriage together? How many friggin horses are they gonna round up for that duty? Does someone have the address of the RSPCA on speed messenger boy?

I just got a raise! 5 pounds a month! I'm rich!

I like blue.

President McKinley shot dead! Pray tell, what was on his piano roll?

I am telling THE anon so I do not have to bid thee THEN!

It wasn't me!

It was HER!

SHITTY LITTLE MATCH GIRL!

Speed messenger boy haha R178

My brethren, I must tell you that I am quite an impressive specimen of manhood. I am on the precipice of sixty however the young men of the town are in disbelief that I could be a year over 35 !

This is funniest thing. Thank you, gents.

What news out of London town? The foulest crimes that were ever committed! I beseech my good datalounge confrères, let us amass our collective detecting horsepower, post haste!!

A renter stole my wax buste doll!!

Instant classic Datalounge. Please don't stop.

Please cease attempting to popularize "Apparent Tumescence Boundary," Gretchen. It will be taken up nevermore.

Oh, may glorious plaudits and praise be heaped upon thee, Mistress! My [italic]côtelette de boeuf[/italic], which hitherto was carelessly rent asunder, has been restored to pristine wholeness by thine efforts!

Jenny is a much superior songstress and performer when compared to poor Adelina.

Go ahead and practice fisticuffs on your own offspring, for it is they that have become invert Uranians!

And from whom did they learn this behavior, pray tell?

The apples, they say, do not fall far from the tree.

R192, to me she'll always be Jenny From the Block

This thread is useless without daguerreotypes.

An occultist named Madonna is opening for Cher's fifth farewell tour. She's Italian. Don't think we'll attend.

September 25, 1869 - Catherine Zeta-Jones turns 34 for the first time!

r175 wins the thread.

[quote]A woman on holiday at the White Cliffs of Dover foolishly set up a daguerreotype to capture an image of herself as she stood on one foot at the edge of the cliff, and a bird swooping by caused her to lose her balance and plummet to her death. I think that chap Darwin might be on to something!

What, one might well ask, were amongst her more favored parlor songs and music hall pieces? Have at it, lads of clever humor!

I shall inform you at present, in order to avoid informing you at some later date.

Pray give generously to the African orphans to avert their ironic jibes!

King George III, tapping on a telgraph with a pencil? Perhaps his scullery maid was baking fresh scones when he posed for this portrait?

I hope the drippings from your lamb shanks ignite and you are consumed in the flames until you're quite dead.

Prithee, kind sirs, indulge me this most impertinent query. I often find myself with only the following upon ice: a few rounds of Neapolitan bread upon which rest sauce tomat and a sprinkling of fine Continental cheese. Will my gentleman callers find me untoward should I serve this in lieu of sweetmeats and port?

That Queen AnnE was quite the fat cunt, wasn't she? Was there ever so frau-ish a sovereign?

Settle a dispute, gentlemen : how often must a man of refinement have his clothes brushed? My valet brushes my suit twice a day without fail, but my friend says once a day is enough. Entre nous, I think he's rather off the mark.

Just returned from the Grand Tour. The German spas were agreeable, and of course Monte was packed with the right people, but it was Sicily where I left my heart. My good wife pines to accompany me, but I told her the Royal Geographic Society has a very strict members only policy and I plan some major excavations on the Italian islands next year.

I encountered a local street urchin but yesterday, a strapping lad of only seventeen years. Alas, both parents gone, with but little prospect of employment. And yet, endearing enough to bring a tear to my jaded eye.

Shall I play Lady Bountiful and offer him succor on these gelid wintry nights?

Perhaps he could become my next trusted manservant. I'm again in need of one, as that Blackamoor whom my dear friend brought me from the Americas seems to have absconded with choice items from my Ancient Greek pottery collection, including several delineating those eternal friends, Achilles and Patroclus.

Hope springs anew!

R208 = collector of ancient potteries and so a scoundrel pillager of the heathen Turks. Though the Turks in all their deplorable territories may be incapable of appreciating the worth of the great works of the past eras, nonetheless we do ourselves no great service by trading here in quaint antiquities and curiosities taken from such unfortunates presently situated in those fabled lands. I exclaim.

One could scream in angry power at such unjust deeds, were one of such temperment.

Future accounts of our acts may not be kind regarding the provenance of such collections.

Should I fuck my valet?

R204 you have made my day

Datalounge, the world's only gay gossip site where one might have fair expectation of encountering the word 'gelid'.

Oh my boys! My boys! Get you to fair Napoli without delay! A cabinet of curiosities is to be found there, a veritable 'gabinetto segreto'! It houses such objets as will bring tears to the eye of the sensitive gentleman. Feast upon this fresco of Priapus!

Perhaps you can imagine my utter fear of being scorned by posing this question, but nonetheless I persist undaunted: have any of you gentlemen ever resided with a loin, mutton, or veal roast?

My friend Dennis went London without first making arrangements for accommodations, as he thinks he will find a succession of gentlemen willing to provide him with overnight lodging. If you happen to see a confused village bumpkin leading a loaded pack mule named Samson through the teeming streets of our thriving metropolis, 'tis he.

r215 you magnificent CUNT. I was trying to think of a good way to get that story in here, and you beat me to it!!

R209 has quite stated her boundaries.

WHET Jack the Ripper?

We asked him to join us, but he swore he knew not the way of the inverts. Too bad, really. The model he continuously used was always without clothes!

Lord Alfred Douglas

Cease your chatter, you rotund harlot!

Let's be a tavern in 1780's New York

Fie, it is has happened again at my place of business. A representative of a foreign concern came in with a tray of sweet rolls and jam, and four or five of the heifer clerks that work here heaved their portly rumps off their stools like it was the last food on earth! Never mind that they have no interaction with any of the vendors anyway, and are in no position to discuss any type of business. But they can most certainly shove bread and jam into their fat pie holes, I assure you, Sirs!

Myself? I sat sedately at my desk, sipping my black coffee, waiting for the representative to approach me. It is a matter of the utmost shame to be in associated with those rutting pigs.

Gentlemen, an ingenious American fellow has invented the new Jockey Strap for the comfort and safety of the athletic or working man. It is recommended and can be discretely purchased at several shops.

Perish in an oleaginous conflagration, R203.

R203 and R224 , Messieurs, Messieurs! you are BOTH pleasing to the eye!

Hide on the promenade

Etch a postcard:

"How I dearly wish I was not here"

The contemptability of the chap who originated this discourse exceeds that of the Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm II!

He probably wears a merkin for a beard!

Gentlemen, as a Corpulent womon, do you find me serviceable for the knacker's-cart cleansing detail?

Queen Victoria's all-black wardrobe: fashion forward or lazy German frau- what say the Data Lounge?

Horatio Alger has such a way of bringing his characters to life - one would think he'd lived intimately among them!

The novel object depicted at [R223] looks like a very soft truss. Does it achieve the same purpose, but with more comfort?

EMPRESS SISSI DEAD!!

I fear that I must speak my mind directly, and pay no heed to the repercussions:it dismays me that the centurian youths of today shave their beards. The Almighty endowed men with a manly hirsute profile and to willingly remove one's facial hair is much akin to a prepubescent boy. I shall pass, thank you very much!

Nothing wounds the sensibilities of a discerning gentleman of the DL persuasion more than an invert who fails to Bant!

Upon the occasion this invert finds himself at a white party or brunch, both of which have become the rage in our need for a more refined and Continental mode de vie — and how is he to avoid this in the grand metropolis? — he is an intruder. For, he occupies treble the space to which he is entitled! He inflicts upon us, through every roll and fold of quivering flesh, just SO much additional fatigue and discomfort. It is plain, the august gentlemen of DL can't breathe.

This redundant adiposity serves as an impermeable hiss-and-glare-proof wall, repelling all consciousness of the rights of others. The invert who makes a god of his hunger is incorrigible, and I fear no good word of mine will avail to induce him to reform. He is the innately selfish invert who makes his very existence an offense and a burden to others. Get thee to Mr. William Banting, invert!

He had a fine arse, but perchance he could not cheat the reaper

My gentleman's gentleman's sire visits the local asylum each Sunday. I'd provide him pots of jam to toss at the harlots, but fear he'd only feed family.

r175 shan't provide the necessities of respite, but I shall. Gentlemen, I offer a most sincere invitation to indulge in a new and different fashion of hotel appointment and service! Advantageous arrangements made for stay! We offer a magnificent coffee room; hot and cold baths; a billiard and smoking room; a drawing room for ladies and children, and table d'hôte during The Season. Allow us to enthrall you with electric light and hydraulic lift! We shall offer complimentary omnibus service to the World's Columbian Exposition for it's duration.

Gentlemen, I wish not to boast, but several of our guests have so delighted in our offerings that they've never checked out! Won't you be next?

Dear sirs of the Grammatical Chastisement Patrol, I am all too aware that I erred in my above message; an errant apostrophe has been my undoing, it seems. I beseech you to take pity on a corpse of 121-years standing. The fact that I'm on your "Internet" at all is worthy of your looking the other way, methinks. Thank you, kind gentlemen.

Me ginger minge has a wee bit o the foamed seagrass

Last Christmas, I presented my fair cousin Romerry with a child's tea set I purchased at Harrod's. The girl turned up her nose and said she'd rather have received a rocking horse instead. Whatever will Aunt Tansy do with the child?

R241 , fortunately, in this era of high childhood mortality, consumption or diphtheria will soon rid you of the odious brat.

R213 This is why Disraeli won!

Sunday last, I was dining at the White Horse Inn when I saw a scene that hobbled my heartstrings. A little girl who appeared to be half-witted was complaining loudly and vociferously because the crust had broken on her portion of mutton pye. The child was howling and disconsolate. The serving wench, apparently growing tired of the caterwauling, took away the piece and told the child to hold her water whilst she mended it. The wench took the pye to the back area and spit on it repeatedly, filling in the crack with her own juices. The wench then returned it to the child, who exclaimed, "Fank you, you fixded my lamb pye."

After taking two bites, the child suffered a seizure and died.

There. I fixded the original story for you. That's how it SHOULD have ended.

A painting made up entirely of dots? I ask you, Monsieur Seurat, what is the point?

Fellow Uranians! What are your thoughts about Byron and his archetype? Who is your ideal?

- Heathcliff - Edward Rochester - Byron himself - other - Vivian Vance!

R244 you are a shining jewel in the DL firmament

I love R244 but she's mixing centuries in her linguistics.

Now that men dare not legally express the love that dare not speak its name, why do our Sapphic sisters still have the liberty to tip the velvet? Simply because Her Majesty supposedly could not believe that women would do such a thing with each other?

His ranting is but further proof that r249 declines the fairer sex.

Pity.

What is all this wretched talk about being a "Gentlemen" for pay? It is downright barborous! You are either a gentlemen or you are not!

Same shit, different century...

We were born into the wrong century, my dears.

Sirs, as I scorn to act in any manner that may bring reproach upon myself and my family, and hold clandestine proceedings unbecoming in any man of character, I take the liberty of distinctly professing my desires to you, and humbly request your indulgence; as I flatter myself, my family, and my expectancies will not be found unworthy of your notice.

So, I ask of you, sirs, shall we play a parlour game in which each gentleman takes wing and flies to fancy whilst imagining himself to be a discrete person, item, or utterance within the walls of the coarsest doss house in Paternoster Row. I'll start!

I am the fat rat endeavouring to rend the gangrenous toe from the foot of the wretch in coffin bed #32. I say, chaps, the taste is that of undercooked guinea fowl!

Was poor Marie-Jeannette Kelly a friend of the inverts? Apparently some unknown devotees have been leaving tokens of affection at her grave, as if she were Miss Maude Adams or even Miss Lillian Russell.

[246] I'd let him toss my salad and serve him tea afterwards!

I must say, kind sirs, whilst studying for the dreaded cholera examination I often find myself in the grand utopia of dreamland; gazing off at Father Thames, eyes unblinking. Then — away! — when I slip the bounds of my repose, I am in a verdant field, prancing in the manner of the Egyptians with two pixies: Penhaliga and Florisia.

Oh, gentleman! Should you one day be so lucky as to behold the delicately doubled eyelids of these most feminine of sprites; indeed, should you!

Eventually we take our rest and whilst we sup on juicy greengages, my wicked and playful mind dares direct my reticent mouth to spew forth its deepest and darkest ponderings. No, sirs, I am not so emboldened to share them in your genial company, but this one...

The sweet effluvium of one Mr Thomas Hardy: juniper, lady's saddle, new-mown hay, bluebell, or Musc d'Afrique? What say you? In my darkest dreams, he floats along in the miasma of Whitechapel gutter and mother's skull and I am powerless to control my basest urge to fill my lungs with his vile foetor over and over and over again.

No, gentleman, 'tis not unpleasant! Not in the least.

I am dreadfully afraid that My Dearest Chum has become addicted to the Pipe, secretly frequentling the foulest Asiatic dens of Limehouse for gratification. What should I do?

Bertie, is that your chum at r257?

Would you be so very kind my good Sirs, to indulge a young student of the techniques of nursing? Your counsel is most keenly sought!

I commence 'pon each morn at 7am with a lesson in how to aid the convalesence of a child after operation on cleft palate. This subject is but one of an entire Program to which I am enrolled.

Gentleman, but there is a young fellow I regularly espy in this gathering, and what a fine figure he presents! Yet one is troubled by the knowledge that he shews himself to be registered in quite another Major to that of your humble correspondant! Sirs, as mature gentlemen well acquainted with the sensitive subject of the love that cannot - nay - DARE not - speak its name, you can well imagine the fond feelings that I nurture inwardly for this gadfly! Why, he catches me staring brazenly at his beloved countenance, which grows more in perplexity each day!

Imagine this distressing turn of events. A fellow happened to offer the information that he had acquired, from my unwitting beloved, a used Book on the very subject of our profession. At what he named 'a goodly price'. 'A goodly price!'! cried I! 'A likely tale, my lad! Why, this gammy bludger has played quite the quiff on you, make no mistake! '. Word soon reached my dear heart! And now, gentlemen, not one glance will he throw I, his adoring slave! Though I am but famished for a crumb of his good favour!!!

Excuse I, Sirs. I hasten now to scrub 3 sheet mackinstoshes and 6 or 7 small ones, give bedpans to the children all down night nurse’s side of ward, finishing by 10.10pm. Let fortune favor me in my coming examinations!!

R260 for the win.

Truly, I believe many of you weigh five and twenty stone, subsist on plum duff, and reside in your mothers' cellars.

How dost thou fine fellows believe the tawny-hued hoofer shall perform in the ballroom this eve?

Hello, stink-fish! We are new here. And we have two jokes we will repeatica for the next hundred or so. Verificatia to follow.

My fellow gentlemen of the Uranian persuasion, as a man who has just returned from serving Her Majesty's Empire in darkest Africa, let me assure you that the old adage is true: Once you've has a Moor, you'll always want more!

Can't recall the details, but some wise English doctor noticed that cases of cholera were in clusters in London, and the biggest cluster was in a location where the neighborhood water well was near to the neighborhood toilets. He closed the well and the cholera cases dropped significantly. Prior to this, they didn't know about water contamination or understand diseases well at all, though the small pox vaccine was first created in 1796.

Which disease is worse: cholera or tinymeat?

R267, cholera by far. It is caused by fecal contaminated water. Yuck.

Sirs! I am faced with a circumstance of tremendous import! I'm afraid I must dispense with the formalities we gentlemen of good character employ. I hope you'll find it in your hearts to forgive my impertinence.

Upon the occasion of my last seance presided over by one Mistress Omorovicza of Budapest, the spirits bestowed upon me a terrible vision; that of my future grandson, Lionel. Gentlemen, I know not what to do! As the Gods may attest, I harbour the very thought to make haste with the laudanum, burlap, and brick, and with heavy heart, cast my own son to the murky waters obscuring the temple of Father Thames, wherein he shall become sustenance to the eel!

Forgive me, gentlemen, for in the time it has taken me to put pen to paper, my mind is set. Sirs, I implore you, think no less of me!

Charles Dickens is DEAD to me!

Pardon me, Mr. r266, but may we assume that you have not previously visited this location?

What do you mean the Americans circumcise all their male Christian babies? I don't know why I'm surprised. Without the civilizing influence of the Mother Country these sort of barbarous practices are to be expected.

Forgive my impropriety, sir, but I must strenuously state my wish that you meet your imminent demise by throwing yourself into the nearest conflagration fueled by lards and fats!

Clutch me into thine bosom, David. I am sore afraid.

This comely young grappler has one's loins fairly aflame!

datalounge, what is your favourite "fog" colour? I myself favour the oily greenish-brown.

I say, who among you has seen The Daily Telegraph's latest illustrations of handsome fellows on velocipedes?

I am looking for a benefactor as I am far too physically appealing to necessitate being gainfully employed.

I must faithfully report, dear reader, that the water closets, and attending pumps, drains, and pipes which the Bellagio Hotel purports to be a comfort station of some reliability is neither comfortable nor reliable. Indeed, on a recent occasion I had to visit said hotel, I found myself needing to spend a penny (the meaning of this colorful phrase doubtless is conveyed to you, oh savvy Dear Reader). It was, therefore, with much dismay and abject horror when I discovered the aforementioned waterworks to be in such a state of disrepair as to forcibly set aloft fecal remnants and vile effluvia buoyant upon 2-3" of standing water which was dispatched, instant presto! It baffles all reason that not only was this assault upon one's senses of sight and smell sufficiently revolting on its own, but that further assault was effected by having such bits of organic filth attach themselves to my shoes.

r279 is giving me life!

Love that there are only about 63 of us in the world who get these jokes.

Dear Sirs:

I put forth quill to paper today to lament the apparent, premature, and heartbreaking death of this thread, seeing, as I do, that it has failed to garner a single reply since March the 14th past, a day which the lads today at both Cambridge and Harvard refer to as "pi day." In this troubled age when we observe with down-turned hearts that the Datalounge consists largely of threads buzzing with the hubbub of the political machinations d'jour, we, your faithful readers, must cling to any thread that in the main departs from this horrid trend, and celebrates the Datalounge of yore, one which showcased wit, intelligence, critical thinking, and riotous humor (as the latter truly is [italic]castigat ridendo mores[/italic] in all its best aspects)..

Lamentably, the political threads with their outrageous claims and calumnious pillories are not the only detraction to the Datalounge's luster presently. No indeed, as we must also sift through poorly conceived and worse executed screeds proceeding from the heat oppressed brains of halfwits, no wits, or mentally "tetched" persons such as the notorious John, a person whose malady, it seems to me, could be cured immediately by a good bloodletting followed by a daily course of Laudanum administered orally.

Nay, rather than suffer the abundance of riches which once accurately described the threads offered on the Datalounge, presently one must endeavor with equal parts discernment and steadfastness to separate the wheat from the chaff as it were, when describing the effort one must undergo to find a thread worthy of one's time. Indeed, the refined Datalounger--aided most dearly with alacrity--must employ a pertinacity in this regard that is nothing less than dogged and resolute; anything else and he shall regrettably get his fill with chaff for his daily bread.

In bold, bight, stunning contrast, I offer this thread as hope for those of us dear readers who are of a like mind when it comes to exploring conversations that stimulate the mind and gladden the heart! It is with my sincerest hope that I dare wish that my humble reply shall awaken posters past who now doth slumber, and invigorating them to return with fresh thoughts, witty rejoinders, and treasured [italic]bon mots[/italic].

Respectfully yours, et cetera, et cetera.

Fenton Dalwrimple IV, Esq

Post Script: I must inquire as to whether you have been made privy to the most alarming and distasteful news concerning the Datalounge poster who identifies as "Erna?" It is believed by many persons purporting to know without any question that this Erna is an admitted coprophagia enthusiast! One can rest assured that no gentlemen in these parts would accept a peck from this person on any parts of their faces.

Has anyone here met Mary Todd Lincoln? I heard that bitch is cray

[quote]Has anyone here met Mary Todd Lincoln? I heard that bitch is cray

Such calumny is ill-placed in any gentleman worthy of that description. Be that as it may, I nonetheless agree with your sentiment as I have heard told that "dat bitch is batshit fucking nuts."

My manservant is blackmailing me!!! What to do?!!!!!!

Say, Jack. Fancy a bit of lolly this evening? There is a late telegram at the General Post Office that requires prompt delivery by an able, affable lad like yourself. It's in Cleveland Street. Are you game?

I've heard tell that this Jack who is praying upon the doxies of Whitechapel is perhaps one of us Uranians. Someone contact Abernathy forthwith to tell him tis not so. Tis more likely a soft butch sous chef...

Praying for the correct spelling of the word preying.

Jealous, inverts??

New York City's hottest gentleman's club is the Slide.

It has every-thing: Cheap booze, rouged and powdered waiters, filthy ditties, men with feminine monikers, orgies beyond description...

Pish-tosh; an overrated establishment, if I do say.

GREETINGS, GENTLEMEN! I AM A MATURE MAN NAMED WILLIAM. I BESEECH YOU, WON'T YOU APPRISE ME OF HOW TO BE INVERTED?

The aged among our community do seem to imbue a certain predatory nature whilst among the less mature and frankly more attractive male persons. They offer opportunity with a letter A, and promise advantages unfound among those of my own youth.

Nevertheless, their sense of entitlement and smug superiority may chasten those desiring facilitation of advancing one's standing in society. One elder gentleman may have been given the opportunity of physical advances, had he not chided my penmanship!

Your fanciful expressions and labored forays into topics of questionable interest do not amuse me, I must report. Also, those with a predisposition to hate are certainly not going to inhibit their hate; nonetheless, as I am the personification absolute joy itself, gentlemen, it is inconceivable that I would be dismayed. To the contrary, those born under the house of Scorpio--like myself--have little time to indulge the deleterious tidings of naysayers who naturally feel compelled to fling their slings and arrows before the path of someone as noble as me. All you slatterns, view my prodigious endowment and marvel at its length! Do you tarts honestly believe it possible to behold such ample, turgid flesh in any non-Scorpioid Toms, Dicks, or Harrys? Of course not, I say! Whether it be my swollen manhood or my bicolored tawny amber complexion or my engagingly witty repartee, please know this: you will attend me. I insist!

Whatever is the matter with these falsely entitled youths now referred to as "Edwardians?" I simply cannot abide their malapert dispositions, they with their heads down while jotting inane scribbles tirelessly into their bakelite notepads. Zounds! Further, these dull-eyed mooncalves have the audacity to judge their invert elders, casting aspersions on those of us who--in our youth--greatly enjoyed a carefree toss in the jakes from time to time. Surely, to inverted persons of character the very sight of these priggish dullards engenders sufficient distress that the urge to don one's [italic]robe de chambre[/italic] and grapple one's baubles is sore irresistible!

Until such time as when we meet once more, I do remain

Your humble servant, etc. etc.

--F.D.

Prithee, tell me, would this throw pillow look good on my bed?

Bless you all, you marvels.

for the more erudite readers...

Threads such as this are why you will never get rid of me no matter how insulting (some) may be.

Genius I tells ya....pure genius.

Should I encounter that rapscallion Lewis Carroll parading about with that little strumpet Alice Liddell once again! 'Tis common knowledge at Oxford that he doth much prefer the company of strapping young lads. And, prithee, that harlot fools none -- a budding sapphist I daresay.

Dear Sirs,

I have read your letters with exceeding interest, and I hypothesise that some of you gentlemen are quite advanced in years. Your collective wealth of experience is greatly to be admired. However, I am of the opinion that language must advance with the times, and nowadays, it is desirable that a writer prize a measure of simplicity of expression. Pray consider the language of the Regency as truly of the past.

Yours, A. Smith, Esq., Greenfield Hall

The above is a pseudonym for O. Deere, lately of Winchester.

[quote]Pray consider the language of the Regency as truly of the past.

“Thus finishing his grand survey, disgusted R301 stole away, repeating in his bilious fits, Oh! Mary, Mary, Mary!!…”

I'm Cradling My Tankard This 'Morn

I say, old chap! Tis only a scant five months until the return of the Bathing Costume!

Dashing rakes: Which undergarments are preferable to one's comfort? Drawers or Union Suits?

What kind of he-strumpet goes about in drawers?

A fine romance; I pine for him, I do.

I say, what seems to be the hullabaloo over this schoolboy grappler named Dylan Geick? It is with increasing astonishment that I bear witness to merit-less plaudits and glories bestowed upon his person by otherwise staid and sober inverts who, it seems to me, should know far better. Youth and its concomitant prowess in labors of an athletic nature is by necessity ephemeral, thus making any bonds of affection based thereupon quite fleeting.

Your humble servant,

F.

Post Script: It is widely hoped that Master Dylan shall pose in a photographer's salon so that the beauty of his rippled, toned body shall be preserved in daguerreotype. Dare I risk being risque by earnestly wishing that he offer up a glimpse of his orifice?

What are your thoughts on this InstaHo?

At first blush, my impression is that I most desperately require his person to lodge inside me most profoundly.

Does the mercury cure really ward off attacks of the pox? So fearful am I of contamination, I prefer to withdraw to the seclusion my bedchamber grants and there peruse my heliographs of street Arabs.

My good fellow, while it is possibly true that the bacillus known as [italic]Treponema pallidum[/italic] is effectively vanquished by the efficacious application of mercury rubbed vigorously into the skin, I much prefer the oral administration of laudanum mixed with a tincture of cocoa leaf extract. I believe that the adage "An ounce of prevention beats a pound of cure" certainly applies here as the price of quicksilver has of late risen to an indefensible fee. I think therefore that your decision to flog the purple helmeted warrior in the seclusion of your bedchamber is a sound and prudent one.

I thank you indeed for such advice Sir, I hear tales of many an invert in whom the carefree spirit is such they advance toward malady of the nether regions with the insistent velocity of a Bow Street runner!

Perchance has any of my fellow inverts seen young Master Denny on the streets of fair Manhattan. He is supposedly dragging his steamer trunk as he searches for Uranians along the Bowery.

Empress Sissi is FIERCE!!!!!

I heard the one prostitute victim of Jack the Ripper, Elisabeth Stride, was actually Trans, which was found out during the autopsy. "Long Liz" they called her, and it was not just about her height. They are keeping that part out of the newspapers.

When some malcontent cries that "Data Lounge" is not what it used to be," he should be immediately directed to this thread.

Confound it! Try as I might, I simply cannot fathome the impetus driving these throngs of Uranians who lavishly heap praise and affection upon Master Dylan the pugilist. Am I to belief that in this wholly enlightened age this inexplicable and unseemly attraction to the young man is based solely upon base, animal instincts set aflame merely by tintypes of Mr. Dylan's sinewy, robust frame?

^^ "Fathom," not "fathome." Please find it within yourselves to excuse me this careless mistake. Perhaps your inclination to do so will be enhanced by my voluntary application of "Oh, Dear Reader!" upon my offenses against the King's English?

I am indeed a Uranian, sir, that is to say, afflicted with the sin of the Greeks.

Quite right, fine sir posting correspondence at R321, quite right. Would one be reasonable in concluding therefore that viewing an image showing the beauty of the manly physique is likely to rouse changes in your member of a circulatory nature, namely tumescence of the penis?

My good man I must convey to you my utter approval of your query as well as your manner of utterance. Indeed sir allow me to relate an experience relevant to your inquiry.

I well recall the first night of such a Uranian occurrence, when a strapping young lad happened to share my lodgings for the evening.

He gradually removed every particle of dress within a couple of yards of me--the effect of each succeeding charm, from his shapely forearms to the taking off of his shoes and stockings from his well-formed legs and substantial feet and ankles, caused my manhood to swell and stiffen to a painful extent. When all but his drawers were removed, he stooped to pick up his shirt that she had allowed to fall to his feet, and in bending so, exposed to my view a most glorious bottom--muscular, dazzlingly white and shining like satin. As the light was full upon it, and he was still in a steep stooping position, I could see that in his crotch he was well covered with dark hair. Turning round, to put his tophat on a chair, and to take up his night-shirt, he slipped his drawers off between his legs, and letting them fall to the ground while he slipped the night-shirt over her head, I had for some seconds a view of his splendid manhood, stout and lengthy, and quite as tumescent as my own, the very embodiment of the Longspear of Mars. So voluptuous was the sight, I almost shuddered ... so intense was my excitement.

r323 surely this never occurred.

This thread is wonderful. R16 made me cry-laugh. "My chimney sweep asked me out".

Droll gentlemen, might you join me in a game to while away this lazy afternoon? I propose we make merry by imagining ourselves to be the great annoyances of the household staff's kitchen!

I enjoy picnics on the beach with my Uranian friends!

Dear R323,

I am in receipt of your correspondence instant, wherein you, by means of employing unparalleled vividness and titillating details, painted a masterpiece of carnal sensuality. May I congratulate you, sir, on your extraordinary achievement? Indeed, the events you chronicled were so affecting to the senses that I must confess that I briefly contemplated your rousing tale to be merely phantasmagorical, proceding from a heat-oppressed brain enflamed by urges most primal. Such was the significance of my momentary disbelief that I found myself upon the verge of employing the phrase "Wood prints or the proposed account is devoid of reality!" which one reads quite refquently in these sacred lounges of data. However, it is with much delight that I can report to you that the veracity of your recollection is borne out not merely by the earnestness of your passion but also by the testimony of the inkeeper, one Mister Fineas Sprungthicket.

Yours etc. etc.

Why Fenton! You scamp.

Ho-hum, another day, another great grandchild for the Queen:: Edward the 8th. This whole line of succession thing is so tedious and predictable. I trust this Edward will be more of the same, no?

Digby Augustus Stewart Mackworth Dolben.

Who's had him?

R331, hands off of my man!

It seems to me, Dear Sir at R331, that were you to rephrase your query into "Digby Augustus Stewart Mackworth Dolben. Who [italic]hasn't[/italic] had him?" that the answer resulting thereupon would be able to be inscribed upon the face of a single postcard, standing in sharp contrast to the inevitable encyclopedia of patrons which would be prompted by your inquisition. Quite simply, sir, Dolben is nothing less than the village velocipede, by which I mean to suggest that everyone within a radius of twenty-five miles has had a ride.

Yours etc. etc & what not.

bump

Do recall, gentlemen, when surreptitiously suggesting another Uranian interlude with one who has favored you with his charms - if then only for his own advantage and perhaps now, your profit - whilst at the same time having given you a rare and most intense pleasure that one swallow doesn't make a summer.

[Post redacted because The Daily Mail thinks that references to their halfpenny pamphlet are intrinsically harmful, even as their nation's flatulent regent reaches her dotage. A gentleman of straightforward demeanor may wish to explain to That Publication how such references work, or perhaps not. The staff of the organ you are currently enjoying is rather indifferent. The Mail is failing daily, however. Our advice is that you should not follow this post's reference, and however you may choose, please do not patronize That Publication's scrawls.]

I'm Yvonne and I dare say, this is it!

Whoo!

This was already done

I'm cracking up at R5. When you bitches are on, you're on.