Fantastic Lives

These days my todger is putting in more overtime than a US State Department official during a Middle East crisis. I'm exhausted. Not that I'm complaining.

As you know, my periodic reveries here are an exercise in forgetting, dreaming, meditation. This is wine and codeine therapy. My life improves; I don't fear death. I think it is because I have separated myself (intellectually, emotionally, spiritually) from the filth that surrounds me, and created my own 'private world' or sphere of thought and activity distinct from the mainstream.

The trick to all of this, I think, is to avoid despair and nihilism. I follow EJ's example of 'inner emigration' as best I can, but this does not entail a hermit's life or a prude's existence. We must accept the conditions into which we are born and move forward. That is fate. Life is to be enjoyed, even in these dark times. It is an unfolding of mystery and beauty. Our attitude should be one of affirmation, a 'yes-saying' to fate. And soon, I think, after all is done, the sun will rise again.

The tests came back negative, certifying me plague-free, thank the gods. The symptoms instead were attributed to the combined effects of traumatic sex and excessive alcohol ingestion. Surprise, surprise. Will I ever learn? Let the whoring recommence.

Love Is Like Oxygen (Sweet)

American Beauty (Assouline)

Rugby Beards

Beard you like? I do. The word sur la rue is that I've grown a beard. It's true, I have done. It's a trimmed model with a reddish-blonde exterior, not unlike that of the chap in the middle of the photo (at left). I've received many positive comments on it, especially from the ladies. What they're thinking, I've no idea. (If you're a chapette and approve of beards, please submit an explanatory comment). Me, I simply wanted to change it up a bit, to effect the Wall Street-meets-Mountain Man look, or, as my chums keep pointing out, the 'Most Interesting Man In The World'. The look, I've been told, suits me quite well.

U-Boot Offizier im Focus

Korova

Oxford Anatomy

Mensur

'Football Colours Of Our Public Schools'

Boy's Own Magazine c.1900

Zou Bisou Bisou

Young Fogey Haiku

Tweed fit candlelight
Banged-up cords in butter plum
Dark ale is bitter

Handshake Method

How do you shake hands? An Interweb colleague recently offered instruction on the proper handshake method. Shake hands like a man! It's excellent, timely advice that more of our chaps should take to heart. As usual, I've a few words to say on the topic.

In my line of work I meet a lot of people. I enjoy it. It's an opportunity to make a solid first impression. I consistently offer a solid, firm handshake with a straightforward look in the eyes. But I’ve noticed more and more men--many of them of the non-white variety--offer a “fist bump” instead. It sometimes also occurs as a congratulatory gesture.

My reaction is: “What the fuck is that?!” They laugh nervously in response.

My own theory is that the “fist bump” is a sort of shit-test that non-whites and liberal-democrats deploy against White men to determine our “coolness”, “hipness”, political/racial sympathies, etc.. In other words, it's complete bullshit and we should call them on it.

As you are aware, resistance to the system occurs daily on a personal basis. From seemingly insignificant behaviours comes real dissidence. Stand up to the savages. And then knock them down.

White Hot Lust

"Lust is a force, in that it refines the spirit by bringing to white heat the excitement of the flesh. The spirit burns bright and clear from a healthy, strong flesh, purified in the embrace. Only the weak and sick sink into the mire and are diminished. And lust is a force in that it kills the weak and exalts the strong, aiding natural selection.

Lust is a force, finally, in that it never leads to the insipidity of the definite and the secure, doled out by soothing sentimentality. Lust is the eternal battle, never finally won. After the fleeting triumph, even during the ephemeral triumph itself, reawakening dissatisfaction spurs a human being, driven by an orgiastic will, to expand and surpass himself."

Valentine de Saint-Point, Futurist Manifesto of Lust (1913)

Pucci

Gin Snob

I'm fucking exhausted. Last night I partied with a pair of hot blonde cougars in Newport Beach. Confident in their ferocious Nordic beauty, they were actually quite fun and provided some amusing conversation.

I offered to buy them some wine. They wanted Cakebread. I laughed. Whatever. I told them I'm not particularly interested in wine and wasn't a wine snob. In fact I wasn't a cocktail snob at all.

They looked insulted. One of them pointed out: "But you're drinking Bombay Sapphire".

I replied: "True. If I were a gin snob I would be drinking Hendrick's".

At one point in the evening I overheard them whispering to each other that they wanted to share (!) me. I'm not sure what that means, but I intend to find out. There's definitely enough to go around.

Reds Don't Surf !

Mercedes-Benz España

Soul Love (Bowie)

Cleverley Imitation Brogues

As you know, I've a thing for fine shoes. How many pairs are in my collection? Don't even go there. Anyway, pictured (at left) is a set of black imitation wingtip brogues from Cleverley in London. I received them several months ago and have not yet taken them out for a test drive; I shall do so soon and send a report. They are styled imitation brogues because, unlike traditional brogues that have an additional layer of perforated ('brogued') leather placed on top of the toe, vamp, and quarter, these feature a single layer of leather into which a brogue-like design has been etched. The 'perforations' that you see are merely superficial markings. This is a lighter, sleeker design, to my mind, which makes it roaringly suitable for the environments in which chaps such as moi tend to operate.

Eton Waistcoat Society

Love, Wine, Revolution

Peter Beard Style

Wall Street Traders

Fleming

Peter Fleming (1907-1971)

Space Pirate Captain Harlock

The sea of space is my sea,
My limitless yearning.
The song of Earth is my song,
The homeland I don't abandon.
My friend, even though I know it's a star without a tomorrow,
I'll still fight to protect it.
I'll throw away my life and live.

Space Pirate Captain Harlock

Bahamas Encounter

tout le monde il est preppy

Young Fogey: A.N. Wilson

Porsche Aspect

Palm Beach Polo Duo

West Palm Beach, Florida