Last night I left no stone unturned in my efforts by reaching an advanced level of intoxication and impressing an attractive bar wench by filling all the glasses on the bar with one deft swoop of my fornication pipe.

-Lord “Red Pants” Lovelace

I feel it is my duty to clear up some misleading statements recently disgorged by a cur that seems most intent on sullying my reputation.

While it is most certainly true that I attended a social engagement at the home of my dear friend Chester Shuttlecock, I firmly believe that the remaining recall of the libelous lout should certainly be questioned.

I only became aware of this boor as he fell through the hedge, spilling the contents of the rather large tumbler in his hand. I went to aid him, thinking that perhaps he’d just missed a step. Alas, as I neared the ruffian, I realized that he was not simply a lummox, he was completely inebriated.

So potted was the brute, that it pains me to say that he made attempts to use my body as leverage with which to regain his balance! Upon stepping back and making it quite clear that I wanted no part of his vile hands upon my person, he toppled over again, back through the hedge from which he had most distastefully arrived.

It was at about this time that a woman arrived upon the scene from the direction of this prevaricator’s place of residence. She requested of him the payment that she had been promised, regardless of the fact that he was not able to produce anything for her to administer said services to.

That blackguard may posit whatever he wishes. I propose that if he is missing a book, that his lady friend might have taken it as the payment which he was altogether too flaccidly unconscious to provide.

I remain ever yours,
Lady Softbreath

I did indeed have it at my bedside. She was just recently calling upon my neighbors for an afternoon of friendly badminton and seemed to have a thirst. I offered her some refreshing lemonade or perhaps a nice gin and tonic. She entered my home and excused herself for the loo.

I now suspect, nay I believe, she had learned from my upstairs maid that the journal was here and has stolen it for her own ulterior motives.

She is a scamp, that Lady Softbreath, and failed to properly thank me for providing her with comfort and sustenance on that sultry afternoon.

I caution you, your Lordship, in dealing with this conniving wench.

Rest assured that, as your newly appointed handmaid, I shall be keeping a close eye on your dearest diary from now on, to prevent any further mishaps. In the meantime I will do all I can to get the Teachings of Lord Likely off the ground and into bed, I mean a church.