Sunday, 26 June 2011

Eligible Batchelors and Hip Thrusters

An invitation to a ball at the Brighton ballroom had arrived last week from the Marquess of Brunswick. I was dressed to impress in a new designer dress from Vivienne Westwood which had arrived at the Palace by special delivery on Friday afternoon. The Marquess sent invitation with his calling card attatched......see herein for yourselves........

It is fair to say that the gentleman's tassling accessories fairly pleased me and my intention was to attend the event.

I was to meet Princess Nathalie of the Hunters in the Art Bar around eight for the sharing of wine. The Princess was on good form, dressed to perfection as always. She told me a story of particular interest involving Sir Douglas of the Craigs and how he calls for her in the wee small hours when nightmares, phantasms and other hallucinations wake him from his slumber. The Countess was most surprised although I fear I may have misheard and that the Princess was referring instead to her son Little Lord Beau......the wines were from a supurb region and the events and conversations became confused and muddled in the murky corner of my climacteric brain. I will clear the matter up some other time. Meantime I see that Sir Douglas blossoms into a fine figure of a man. He works in the city of Londinium for a leading computer company and his expertise knows no bounds. I am quite keen that he be matched with any one of my daughters though sadly they are seemingly matched already for even Skye, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies found love this week with a gentleman who works in medicinal powders. I am yet to be introduced for it seems that the gentleman is afraid......I know not of what! Ah well.......the days are early and I may be successful for a match in the future........ Sir Douglas is of fine stock and a joining could swell the Countess' coffers.

Alas we were unable to attend the event at the Ballroom......the hours slipped through our fingers like sand grains.

Instead we went, accompanied by Sir Douglas of the Craigs of Aberdeen, to the castle of Sir Paul of the Edmond clan some fifty steps away.We decided the air would do us good and I sent the golden carriage back to mother's abode.
Alas the hospitality was more than favourable and hence I was not to return to mother's until today, this day a Sunday. How we danced and frolicked and misbehaved like small children for this is our way in Brighton when we reach the weeks end. Big Irish Jono was also in attendance (I have forgiven him his recent misdemeanors of which there are very many) and we danced so excitedly that a nail on my left hand was chipped......I have booked a manicure tomorrow as I am a woman of reputation, a woman of manners and of good grooming and my desire is always to stay at top of these qualities.

Sir Paul of the Edmonds was debonair as ever and  was in generous spirits and gave as leaving gift two of his wonderful photographs. For those unaware Sir Paul is most famous having photographed Duran Duran, a band of roaming minstrel quite famous during the 1980's or there about. I am most pleased at the gifts, particularly a striking pose of the Countess in all her glory which will be available for view quite soon.

Sir Peter of the Jarrettes sent message last evening that he was available for party steps. I hear his ballroom dancing lessons go well and that the gent's Trinidadian and Tobagon genes are to be quite apparent in his hips as he partakes in the samba. Sadly by this hour one was quite 'done in' and so the quick hip flicking gent must save his libidinous maneuvers for another day.

My dear friend Sir Gaz of the Nuts sent word from Glastonbury that he is enjoying his time at a festival there. It seems there is much to do, wine and song and women......Sir Gaz may not return intact I fear. This very morning a Tory MP was to be discovered in the 'very important persons' water closet quite dead, no life in him left after the festivities.....just like the King Elvis of the Presleys! One prays that one's own demise will be more would not be appropriate to pass this world with one's bloomers at one's feet.

Now, Mother's castle looks well over the cricket ground of Hove and I am told that Sir Elton of the Johns will play especially for us this very evening. sadly I have little interest in the maestro and have opted instead to accompany the Baron Rupert de la Mare who is most agreeable in mood this warm Sunday and will host a buffet at one of the Borough's fine places of dining specializing in Eastern flavours.
Thankfully the L'il Literati has supplied the Countess with a magic formula for the problems of heartburn and I am once again free to eat as my will demands.

Until tomorrow, God Bless you all!

Thursday, 23 June 2011

A letter from Lord Double-Yew and Metal Wares in Brighton

News came early this morning from the Lord Double-Yew who was concerned that rumour and gossip may have sullied his standing in the borough of Brighton and cause some restrictions to his credit facilities. 
I quote from his ramblings....

.....' Worry not, news comes that I may well inherit "Port Hall" a substantial English pile in an exceedingly good neighbourhood. If the decrepit old relative can shuffle along speedily I may have the improvements needed on the "Hall" (I shudder at the thought of an outside privy in the Winter months) to be in to celebrate Christmas in style. Her Ladyship can then scrabble together the social standing she has worked so tirelessly to acquire. Onwards and upwards, my dear!.........'

Your Countess of course has been brought up by this fine country's most superior governesses and my time in Switzerland at the finishing school taught me well that charity is an obligation, ney more, a compulsion! And so I have ordered from an 'on line' retailer something to assist the Lord and his kin in his time of difficulty as he makes do in the thoroughfare of Montpelier......

Now news of one's errant girl child, Skye, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies. We were to meet this very day in order to procure outfits more suited for the changeable weather, part rain part shine without sensible prediction. What fun we had as we scoured the bargains about the borough in childlike and excited spirits. We also took late luncheon in a fine place of dining and shared stories and tales of recent days......I treat these reunions with great respect less he time before the next be longer than anticipated for this child and I are unpredictable in our crossing paths.

We were later to a trader named Wild Cat (funds enabled a purchase in fine jewelery for my child) where the rabid chihuahua took interest in a shelf of metal ware which the Mushroom Queen and I found most curious and yet most confusing. We were none the wiser as we left and I will leave it to you dear readers to make your judgements.

Tomorrow promises vodka although the Palace is to decide on my attendances. 
I beg you enjoy the week's end ahead of us despite the dampening influence of the rain.

God bless you all!

Wednesday, 22 June 2011

Art Lessons, Penthouse Accomodation and Anarcho Punk History.

An invitation to pass the afternoon hours arrived this week past from Peter Von Sleaze, Marquess of Brunswick.......I was moderately impressed as a Marquess lies reasonably high in the pyramid of titles.....a British peer ranking below a duke and above an earl. Furthermore I have heard rumour that the Marquess is prone to party like antics as much as his funds allow. (I fear the Marquess is rather more than prone to wine women and song and that his funds have been restricted by the powers that be lest he bankrupts his district).

I arrived in his company after a shopping spree and was somewhat disabled with bags quite brimming with dresses from some of the finer stores in Brighton. The Marquess and the Countess spent an afternoon in fine semblance in a castle belonging to Caroline of Brunswick and put the world quite to rights. My companion informed me too of a new craze spreading through the streets of the city called 'boylesque'.

My good friend Lady Dolly of the Rocket Clan is seen below in this documentary from Chanel 4 which may give more of an insight into this new craze.

Papa would not have been pleased at this new craze, but neither was he happy with binge drinking amongst the lower classes and yet see how happy they are despite the recession.

Later the Baron arrived and were able to plan how he will manage his trust fund. The boy is lucky not to feel the pinch of government cuts as his mother took care of his financial affairs wisely before he was even on this earth. ........the boy/man at eighteen can wallow in the spoilings that others have assured him and he is to consider his tenancy in a bijou residency with high ceilings and good vehicular access. The Countess is thrilled to have been asked advise concerning the decor of the baron Rupert's new abode and I am to make delivery there of a bar, furnishings of a manly nature....mostly dark wood and black, supplies of health giving recuperating foods which can be frozen for long periods, a supply of fresh socks which seems more beneficial than storing soiled ones until the maid arrives, a maid, and other props that a young man about town should enjoy in a well to do apartment in the heart of the borough of Brighton.

The evening was somewhat marred by the arrival of a young lady from the Moulsecoomb district who one deemed most inappropriate. Danielle of the Not All There clan proved to be an annoyance all round and was sent her marching orders.....clearly a gold digger and we thank God that the Baron is wise to these types.

I have taken a penthouse at the artist's retreat in Islington as the accommodations on the lower floors were not appropriate for a woman of my social standing. The apartment on the top floor looks over a part of Londinium quite pretty and my art tutor informs me that the gardens and the views have improved my production. He is actively searching for a suitable venue to show the collection during the autumn though fairly I am in no particular rush.

My dear friend Princess Adeleh Bright Daffodil of Trans is to attend a private and expensive clinic on Monday to have some readjustments made to her new lady area. We wish her most well as her wedding will be quite soon in the Borough of Islington and I am most excited to wear yellow for the first time in over a decade..... (Ah one is taken back to the bright yellow stretch Lycra cat suit that was something of a Countess trademark during my years in the colonies.Thoughts and best wishes too to the Lord Double-yew. It seems that the bailiffs or at least the threat of them have meant he is forced to move his needy family to the servants quarter along one of the city's less desirable areas where the neighbours are questionable and drunks and vagabonds ruminate in the gutters all night!. Condolences to his wife whose aspirations to climb the ladder of social notice have been so successful previously as to cause some hyper ventilations......oh how the mighty fall.

I was to Hackney on Monday as guest of the L'il Literati and the Sniper. The Countess is most pleased at their progress.

For those unaware some six years of estrangement between the Lil one and myself were abruptly ended by an episode of Crime Watch. The Countess is not a viewer of proletariat television generally but an aide had contacted me to draw attention to an episode where a line up of eight of Britain's most wanted criminals were presented on the Palace's flat screen. Second most wanted was the Sniper Dizzle and his girlfriend the L'il Literati.

Shocked and concerned I made contact with the underground elements (it is my business to know these people though one is cautious to spend too much of one's time with them) and the L'il one was brought to the Palace for a recuperation. The Sniper was persuaded to hand himself over to the metropolitan authorities to serve his time. How thrilled then we can all be that now the two of them have made such progress in a difficult world enjoying top positions in the city of London.
The Sniper can be viewed from the clip herin as the only white boy on the block.

Plans for a rendezvous with Sir Gary of the Buckley Clan of Forest Gate (still famed for his contribution to the anarcho punk movement and a band of fine writers and musicians named D.I.R.T) were scuppered as the rains fell hard from the Hackney skies and the L'il one was sadly not for moving. We feasted instead in the warmth of the castle that has now become so familiar to me and I am to rearrange plans to reminisce the heady days of anarcho punk.

I am again to Brighton for some continuing commitments this week. Sadly there is still rain here too but I am to dear mother's where I may enjoy the menu as always.

News has just arrived that Skye, Queen of the Mushroom Fairies is to attend a college course.......she is expected later to give more insight to the academic advancement.

The Baron is also due soon as I enjoy some peace in my quarters away from mother and the rabid chihuahua.

Until later my good children, may God guide you well through rain, poor quality British television and even more poor quality British tennis.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

The Countess tries to persuade the rabid chihuahua to swim at Brighton beach

Invitations and Rejections

I was woken in the tiny hours by an important call via the telephone from the Baron Rupert de la Mare. Some readers will be aware that relations between us have been strained of late due to differences in our characters that the Palace was unable to renounce.
The Baron seems on good form and I predict that relations will improve. Indeed your Countess was quite thrilled at the Baron's high spirits and conviviality despite the hour.....a mother must be grateful for small mercies, all mother's know this to be true.

My personal assistant had received notice from Sir Thomas Macdonnell yesterday that we were to attend the birthday party of a boy named a secret location in London. I spoke briefly to Sir Thomas but his sexual advances on the Countess flesh (virtual of course as there were some miles, thankfully, between us) were of a stressful nature and had caused me to take to my salts. Barnes (my personal assistant) advised that Sir Thomas Macdonnell is no man of breeding or education and that, worse still, no man of means. Barnes heard rumour that the cad 'has not a pot to piss in'.
I have deleted him from the Palace contacts list along with his motley crew.....there is no room for charity in our time of deep recession.

News to lift my spirits has arrived today however.
The Lord Robert Anthony, a man of letters from the greater areas of Londinium, has sent word that I am to accompany him to the Duke of Essex Polo Trophy next month.
And so it was more than opportune that my stylist, Little Princess Nathalie of Former Glory, arrived just yesterday laden with new stock from her vintage range. The Lady Pembleton-Fraser and myself were quite like children at a fair ground as we rummaged through the Valentinos and the Chanel!
I fairly overspent but I am assured that despite my retirement (at least for the summer season) the Countess of Brighton and Hackney bloomers fly from the palace seamstresses machines to destinations all over the globe.

Now readers I must be off for mother has booked a session with the art tutor.....

God bless you all. 

Goddamn Erotica Post Card Range by Pasha du Valentine for Goddamn Media

Paintings by Pasha du Valentine

Monday, 13 June 2011

Foie Gras, Truffles, Quails Eggs and the Rabid Chihuahua

Sir Peter Jarrette begged I join him for the closure event of Brighton Fashion Week at the Brighton Ballroom in Kemptown (otherwise known as Kamptown for reasons of heightened creativity in that region).
It was pleasant enough though the fashionistas hold so little between their vanity and their self consciousness. Sir Peter did a sterling job as always in compering and holding fort.

And I was to spend time with Sir Peter some days later for sampling of vodkas and fine wines in and around the Brighton Boroughs......Although we were waylaid in our attempts to get to where we should have been due to the effects of the sampling.

News of recession has caused your Countess more grief than is tenable! My shares in soya beans and oil are down and I wonder how the good people of the boroughs Brighton and Hackney can manage the gloom that is enveloping us.......coupled with the climacteric i am filled with pessimism and concern for our futures. My medical advisers have suggested that I book myself into an artist's retreat in the borough of Islington where I will be able to relax from the rigours of business and partake in the ladylike pastimes that I have enjoyed for many years. I am to undergo some therapies in the arts and of the mind and I look forward to my time there. Indeed I am to reside in a converted Convent and quite opposite a delicatessen which is of fine repute.
At least during one's recuperation one will have good supplies of foie gras and truffles......though the medical advisor warns against an over indulgence in quail eggs for some reason.

I am to ready myself now for a brisk trot with the chihuahua. He loves the Countess so and I fear that despite his rabid tendencies I have quite warmed to his funny ways. I have asked Barnes (who accompanies me these days when I visit mother) to put on the garb that will protect the creature from the weather along the coast......a small raincoat indeed made to perfection..........

Until later, God bless you all my children.

Friday, 10 June 2011

Hackney Conmen and the Incremental Creep of the Essex Chavistocracy continued......

Sir Thomas Macdonell pressed me recently to host the Black and White reunion Ball. I did as was my duty, as Countess about town, dressed in a fine frock stitched the Princess Nathalie of Former Glory. (Fairly it was reminiscent of something the Lady Dolly Parton would wear and it was most pleasing on the eye, especially to gentleman of a certain country and western persuasion. Furthermore, on wearing the frock, I found myself compelled oft to sing 'Jolene Jolene' as I minced about my business.)

I was accompanied to the event, which was held in the borough of Camden, by the Li'l Literati and her beau, the Sniper Dizzle. We were on good form initially though the event proved to be in shambolic form soon after our arrival. There was a lack of champagne which as guests of honour should have been presented at our table. Even the vodka was rather thin on the proverbial ground of the ornate and somewhat gauche establishment known as.......darn I forget! 
The Li'l one came close to blows with Sir Thomas due to some lewd remarks and an attempt to molest her person. He is a rather frightful creature of poor breading for which one forgives due to his advancing years.

The Sniper was to be found at one point on the brink of a deep depression........alas it seems that he was to the smoking terrace where a woman of more advanced years and of less good looks had burdened herself upon him. The Sniper took this most personally and was not for consoling for several hours.

The guests generally were on bad form as the motley crew had been gathered mostly from the Essex regions. The number of Ladies (if they can be so described) outnumbered Gents and as the night wore on the calibre of the Essex wench was to be revealed. It is not for the Countess to criticise the dress sense of other counties but the Essex way resembles the un-contained chipolata that we once were subjected to in Moulsecoomb and Porteslade in Brighton.

Your Countess was glad to have been whisked away to the Li'l one's abode where we were to be entertained by men of more gracious means and demeanor in the borough of Hackney.........Most notably Sir Gaz Nuts who is a light at the end of any gloomy tunnel.

Ah but alas, hackney has proved to the victim too of con men and merchants with good morals asunder....indeed the Palace has become the victim of a serious crime!

I shall explain.

Due to increased sales of Bloomers and artworks from the Palace my business advisers recommended that a large building be leased for production of said goods. (Children were ready to be imported for labouring tasks......I jest of course for the Countess would not readily break the law although I do hanker somewhat to the times when one could source a decent chimney sweep in the boroughs of Brighton and Hackney.)
A suitable place was found in the centre of Hackney. A gentleman known only as Rav and working for an outfit of bandits who call themselves 'Spaced Up', recommended to the Palace business machine that a lease would be forthcoming after an initial deposit of a hefty sum....... A sum enough to purchase an outhouse in itself. My business managers and even Barnes had become suspicious however as the said lease was ne'er to materialize despite many requests.

The Countess was to visit the premises in question to appease certain concerns. I was there met by this scoundrel named Rav along with a colleague of foreign description from the Greek islands. They were pleasant enough, as was expected in order to put to rest any fears and suspicions.......although the Greek gent, who professed to be the owner of the premises, ascertained that it would be necessary to unblock the drains on a weekly basis as there was an existing problem with the fried chicken merchant above.
I was privy to the stench readers and it did not bode well let me assure you.

We were none the less committed to an arrangement and would not renege upon it.
However the Palace received notification that an extra payment of nearly one thousand guineas was in order before the deal would be sealed.......we had still seen no lease......and that the total of moneys due, some two and a half thousand pounds would be exchanged at a building not associated with the premises for which the lease (still not forthcoming) was to be applied.

Now your Countess is thrifty with the coffers at any rate and the smell of a rat caused me to close shut the doors to the palace safe. Even Barnes smelt the rat from fifty miles away.

I was then the victim of some abuses from Spaced Up and Mr Rav Esquire via the telephone when I told him that I would be informing the local constabulary. The palace deposit has not been returned, the police are making their enquiries and my barrister is to put together a case in the small claims court.

The entire event is a business fiasco.....I am most disappointed that such con men exist in this fine borough of Hackney. Fear not for justice will be done.

Last weekend passed I was to Hove for rest from the chaos and stresses of bad business. Our dear friend, a
young fop popinjay named Sir Douglas Craig, was to pass his 30th year and there were celebrations afoot.
I was privileged prior to the entertainment in town to spend time with Lady Kath of the Marlow clan....we shared vodka, as is often our way, in the grounds of her superb abode also in Hove. By the time of meeting our young colleague we were quite away with the mood.

Just as well that my mood was lifted for news of ill health came from Mother's aides. A fungus has advanced upon her large toe nail. I fear she may have absorbed a strange pride in this advancement for the Lady is prone to show it to all who pass her way! I personally have not the stomach for any type of fungus, except of course for truffles on one's morning eggs.

I must be off dear readers now for I am committed to a night of vodka tasting in Brighton. I will save the news until tomorrow. God bless you all and god bless all the children of the world who labour for their supper. 

Thursday, 9 June 2011


Con men in Hackney and the Incremental creep of the Essex Chavistocracy

I was most privileged to be invited to rest for a weekend at the palace of Lady Bright Dafodil. The Lady marked her coming engagement at a monthly event due east of Buckingham Palace at a venue known as 'Stunners'.......prior to the evening's entertainment (known as a night of Kaos) we were entertained within her fine abode which fairly competes with some of Londinium's best addresses. The Lady Dafodil has found a gentleman who is most handy about her palace and seemingly in other ways. Their marriage will be held in the borough of Islington in August where I am to be guest of course.

The consumption of vodka from the Russian states, which I troubled to take with me in my carriage as the Lady does not partake, caused a serious memory lapse and neither I nor my accompaniment have much recollection of events. My secretary, a gentleman of new employ referred to simply as Barnes, assures the Countess that a lack of memory is a signal of heady pleasures......and I am surely with the gentleman on that!
(Barnes has come to the Hackney Palace trained to perfection. He agrees with everything I say, never questions my decisions, gives the COUNTESS credit for everything good and blames the staff on all that is bad. Furthermore he is both unnoticeable and dependable all at once.)

The Lord Double-Yew has been up to his old tricks again in the borough of Hove. He was to entertain Mother in the Italian Garden, a venue where ladies and gentleman of breeding are free to meet in the afternoons and share wines and other refreshments.
The Lord Double-Yew arrived with his brood quite penniless having ordered drinks and a feast for the bairns. Dear Mother was forced to beckon her butler from her castle some streets away to send post haste moneys from the pension fund.
I have warned mother that should this happen again the Lord Double-Owes-Yew must be banished to the scullery to serve the debt!

One is to luncheon dear readers and will resume these notes presently for there is much to tell!


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