2017

28th November 2017

YES LET THERE BE A PROPER NIETZSCHEAN ZARATHRUSTRIAN SUPERMAN RANT. SOMETHING ECSTATIC ON ONE LONG HEIGHTENED NOTE OF HYSTERIA, HYSTERIC SUPERIORITY TO DEFEND MYSELF AGAINST THEIR ATTEMPTS TO DESTROY ME. How strongly I feel my best ever tweets are the ones from 1997/8 Season of the Flesh. Then surely this would be dynamite compressed into book form! My writing of this period only really became really blazing and powerful after I started at Victoria; now I was earning money, and feeling like a man again, the fightback began. Earning the money that eventually took me to Munich, Vienna and Berlin. And what a new doorway in my life THAT opened! The doorway of sex first, then the doorway of travel. But of course the Leaning Tower of Pisa stuff is important as well, “I want to write books like Oscar Wilde to show people” stuff. “I felt like a butterfly pinned to the board” stuff. 

21st November 2017

I DO love this body of work I am creating, with my paperback books. Charting my journey through life in such detail.  

11th November 2017

I remember I used to be in my Berlin Plaza hotel room or my Dorint Vienna hotel room, and I would be walking the whole time around and around my room naked with full erection, swigging from my beer bottles, in state of total priapic arousal, getting ready to go out. I remember in those recent trips to Vienna thinking my cock has never looked so big! But now that seems to have gone, i have not been in a dirty frame of mind at all here in Brussels. Maybe I do need to get back to Vienna. There is something about Viennese eroticism that turns me on. 

7th October 2017

"Readers who follow me on Twitter will doubtless be aware that I often retweet the mischievous, erotic, literary and sometimes cryptic utterances of a shadowy internet figure who calls himself Dr Ernst Gräfenberg (the pseudonym is taken from the man who first discovered the G Spot).

While Dr Gräfenberg is not a pickup artist or ‘game’ or ‘red pill’ personality, he is nevertheless a great writer with his own unique take on masculinity.

His website Casanova (Lost Wanderings) charts his florid experiences with strippers and prostitutes—those who used to populate London’s Soho, and latterly those in Brussels, Berlin and Vienna. His three volumes of travel memoirs Autismus, Lotta (Journals) and The Cold Icy Air of Mountains (Journals) all continue to chart these themes.

While the pickup world is generally agnostic at best about such entertainments, taking a step back it is undeniable that they are a central element of the male experience for many and are therefore worthy of examination.

In a way what Dr Gräfenberg’s work achieves is not far from what I aspire to myself, for he presents a highly poetic vision of the unleashed male sexuality, and of male freedom in general.

At the heart of his writing is the conflict between a powerful desire to be free of the bourgeois ,institutions of marriage and family in favour of sexual adventure, and the corresponding loneliness that such a quest can entail. This is something that I relate to strongly, as I’m sure many of my readers do.

Now that Dr Gräfenberg’s three books are available in paperback as well as Kindle editions on Amazon, I interviewed him to find out more about the man behind one of the most consistently-fascinating Twitter accounts in the Western Hemisphere.

Posting my questions to him via Twitter DM, we got into the weeds about the Berlin-Brussels-Vienna triumvirate of naughtiness, writing, his view on the game, pulling strippers, becoming iconic on social media." 

24th September 2017

How I loved reading my Lotta book on train home. Suddenly realised I can soon have LOADS of books out there for sale in paperback. AUTISMUS, LOTTA, THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS, to be followed by CASANOVA, THE STRIPPER, TWELFTH NIGHT etc. A record of one man's journey through life, and around the fleshpots Europe where he comes alive, and his flesh and spirit sings. 

30th August 2017

WAITING FOR WORLD TO COLLAPSE AROUND ME. WAITING FOR NEXT BLOW TO FALL, AN EVEN BIGGER ONE THIS TIME. But don't I kind of like it when the world collapses around me! And I have to start again! Turns me on. I find it exciting. A rebirth, a sloughing of old skin.  

When in despair as always, retreat into the dreamy sleazy pleasures, of WSK, Cine Paris, etc. Porn and whores. Vienna, Munich, sink myself into these places. Debt is there to be enjoyed. I can live in any tiny room, with no possessions except my ferns and my classical music. I will be happy. As long as I can work for some money and then TRAVEL, TRAVEL, TRAVEL. 

30th June 2017

START AGAIN. RISE LIKE A PHOENIX FROM THE FLAMES AGAIN> IT IS WHAT I ALWAYS DO. ALL THAT MATTERS IS PORN. RETREATING VERY SMALL & HUMBLE AGAIN. FERNS AND CLASSICAL MUSIC. 

27th June 2017

Yes so it is going to be a dark rainy warm day, so approach it in the spirit of the old Soho days. The old Fu Manchu days! Beautiful, sweaty, voluptuous naked floozies stripping for me, and rubbing themselves against my cock. Of course I will go to -- today.

18th June 2017

Think of all the beautiful women I have slept with, for real. Then the incredible floozies! What a life I have had. And so much more to look forward to. A late start but I have made up for it, exploded all the more riotously into my sexual life because of it. When the dam finally burst, the flood was tremendous. And still is. Like after the Big Bang the universe has kept on expanding and maybe even is speeding up, so has my erotic flood continued since the moment the dam finally burst (first naked woman I saw 1992 and first sex 1997) and maybe even now is speeding up. I am grateful now to my late start. I am ripening late, blooming and blossoming late; that is why I still look so ridiculously young. People still call me "son" and I think I must be 10 or so years older than them! An impatience now, to do more, to go further and deeper. Sense even now I have only just dipped my toes into what is possible erotically. I feel like I am 25 years old, as I count my age as having started the moment I first saw a naked woman, at Sunset Strip in Dean Street, dancing to Tallulah.  That is when MY life began. Before that there was nothing. 

Got erection now in my seat, just writing these words. My credit card debt coming down by £500 every month; that is every month my return to travelling and floozies and the pornotopian life comes closer. Yes, that is £3,000 every six months. £6,000 a year. So £17,900 by end of this year and potentially £11,900 by end of next year. Oh but that all depends on unlikely event of this -- paradise continuing as it is, and mother carrying on as she is, and me carrying on as I am. *** THIS IS MY ONCE IN A LIFETIME CHANCE TO BRING DOWN MY CREDIT CARD DEBT. And I don’t know how long this window of opportunity will last, so I must go for it all out. 

17th June 2017

I may be sick, but it is a delirious, delicious sickness. It is a fever that arouses and allows one to see the truth with penetrating clarity. A fever that excites and intoxicates.

How fantastic that night with Adelina was, drunk Adelina, tottering around just in bra & knickers, letting me put arm around her and slip hand inside her bra to fondle her breast. Great nights of my life. Up there with all the best nights from Stuttgarter Platz or Soho or Schillerstrasse. Most recently in WSK getting wanked openly in front of everyone in the foyer by the Mongolian! Fucking Jackie and Amanda in the sofas at the back of the dark cinema. Fortuna blonde. Legendary, incredible nights were still happening. Brazilian Diane, Albanian Inna, Dominican Republic Lucy, Beatris in Brussels. But a debt of £20,904 is unsustainable, because I CANNOT AFFORD RENT ON MY OWN NEST. That is the central point for me--I have to be able to afford rent on my own little studio flat again. If I cannot, then I do not have  my head above water. And am in deep trouble. I am climbing my way out of the depths right now, with slow but steady progress.

Oh God how floozies make my life worth living, and porn. It is my opium, it is my richness. 

16th June 2017

Society is warped by my presence in their midst. They attack me but this betrays how they are fascinated by me, which means they are attracted by me. They cannot stop thinking about WHAT I am getting up to. I find it delicious the effect I have on them, and I am not going to back down now. I am not going to let them off the hook. My behaviour just becomes more rampant, more flagrant, more provocative. Every time they attack me they betray how I have got under their skin, how they are obsessed by me.  And they have done another thing they can never ever take back, and stored up even more bad karma for themselves, waiting for them just around the corner.

Was having an amazing and powerful dream, felt so portentous, someone reading my tarot, telling my fortune, and it was swirling, I was sailing in midst of storm, in midst of inferno on the seas, and it was all about the "Tower", and I was dimly aware it was Grenfell Tower in Westminster, in the sense it has exploded in the heart of Westminster politics as much as if it really was in the grounds of Parliament, but to me in the dream it was being described to me as a metaphor for the tower of my own life. Even inside the dream I remember Sasha Bonasin telling me to take great notice of all signs and all dreams this month, they will be very very meaningful. 

I said I saw no one at Porcupine Wednesday, but oh there was that little black-haired teenager in plum T-shirt and cut off denim jeans, incredibly serious beautiful face, our eyes met as they stood on opposite corner, her, her dad & brother as her brother took photos of pub after they left. Our eyes met, she was seriously beautiful. Can't wait to get back to the pubs on Monday already! 

1st June 2017

FILLED WITH SCANDAL remember that. Always unpredictable. People never know what I am going to do next. POWERFUL, WITH SCANDAL. THE POWER THAT GIVES ME> ALL THE DIRTY SEX I HAVE HAD WITH THE MOST BEAUTIFUL FLOOZIES IMAGINABLE> Wanked in the foyer of the WSK Vienna. Fucking girls in the back of the dark cinema in the WSK Vienna. Coming over Patricia's tits in Atlantic City Munich. Emily on the Night of the Snow. POWERFUL WITH SMUT.

17th April 2017

Bloody hell I just cried my eyes out watching Jacques Brel songs and interviews. What a great man. My love for Brussels and Belgium just grows and grows. 1806. Time to start packing, and preening. I expect I will leave 430am to get the 445am night bus, if it still exists.

16th April 2017

Before going to a place I should do lots of research so when I visit a place it really means something, like this place in Brussels where the most famous ball in history was held. I have been to that road many times but it meant nothing. Doing your research before visiting a place, in depth research, gives added value to every step you take in a city. And that goes even for cities I have visited numerous times before, such as Brussels, Vienna, Berlin, Munich etc. The history of these places is so rich and I have not even scratched the surface. 

I cannot lose, if I go and spend lots of money and have a great erotic time of it I will be happy. If I go and see NOBODY and don't spend any money I will come happy then as well. It is win win. 

14th April 2017

"Some of the greatest writers throughout history have called Brussels home, and many of their works were influenced by their time spent in the Belgian capital. Though you can’t travel back in time, you can still visit the roads where several of these great writers roamed, many of which have remained essentially unchanged. Discover these spots that showcase Brussels’ rich literary history."

"In fact, after the revolution (1830), Belgium established a very liberal constitution, and many persecuted writers chose Brussels as their place of solace. In an attempt to flee their home countries, where their social ideas displeased the government, eminent authors and thinkers sought refuge in Brussels."

Fascinating reading about Baudelaire and Verlaine's haunts in Brussels, their favourite inns, and thinking one day people will write books about my footsteps, The Cafe du Dome where he was in love with a big black Moroccan girl. the Max Hotel, the Brussels Grill, the Cine Paris, an establishment that showed pornographic films (imagine!), Fifth Avenue.

12th April 2017

My stomach and spare tyre huge, weight up to hideous 15'8. More my credit card debt comes down the more my weight goes up. I JUST COUNT DOWN THE DAYS TILL I CAN GET BACK TO WSK IN VIENNA AND CINE PARIS IN BRUSSELS. TILL I CAN BE NAKED IN A DARK ROOM WITH A NAKED FLOOZIE AGAIN IN BRUSSELS OR VIENNA. Write a story set in fictional soot on the leaves hothouse Brussels, like The Pleasure Gardens of Felipe Sagittarius. The Willing Cheeks of Fu Manchu, of course, and Seeds of the Pope.

10th April 2017

"You are realising what your mission in life is, what you are meant to do." That IS to go to the sleazy places of Europe and enjoy them to the FULL, and write about them; travel diaries, stories. To document this world. That is my mission. That is why I spend my money on it and operate a high debt to do it. In London tick over in Axe and Sunset. Amazing how it is Jennifer who comes into my mind constantly, not any of the prostitutes I can have sex with. Just a topless only stripper who will charge me more for a topless only private dance than the prostitutes would charge me for full sex. 

My character will stay at the Adolphus Hotel, a fictionalised Max. I can have him fucking the little black hotel manageress as she comes to his room. I can have him fucking the big black girl in the Dome Cafe with enormous bosoms. The great thing about writing an erotic novella I now realise is I don't have to make anything up and feel that horrible fakeness, I just need to describe what really happens. Fucking on sofa at back of cinema, etc, getting my cock out in Fifth Avenue. Having cotton wool bud run around tip of my penis soaked in champagne. Just stick to the facts with added ferns and violin music! In London I sit on my days off in the Lovely fern-smothered salons of the Axe or Sunset Strip. Having some lazy beers surrounded by half-dressed floozies or completely naked floozies slowly undulating on the stage. Living the dream. It is like a never ending opium dream. 

9th April 2017

Scene in the ABC, old crackly film stops, girl walks down aisle and starts to dance to music, as men in front row openly wank their already massive cocks in front of her, no attempt to hide them. What pleasure in such abandon! The slippery, sloppy sounds of their wet cocks permanently on the verge of cumming, but always just holding back, letting it rest for a minute or so, before carrying on. Always to the point of orgasm then backing off again. For hour after hour there in the dark and the thick fug of cigar smoke. Almost to the point of passing out. This was the life he wanted, and he wanted no other. Sort of a written Carry On/Confessions of series. Book 1 Brussels Book 2 Vienna etc. Make much of erotic possibilities of city of Freud, Berg, Klimt etc. Fucking in the Vienna opera house, getting a tram around the Ring afterwards, cumming on the tram. Man in ABC upstairs with his big cock poking out of his trousers, "you want this?" Non monsieur! Merci, non.” Musing then on Horta, how they should build two great railway station temples to Horta. Musing on Baudelaire, who caught bat in cemetery and kept it in his hotel room. An erotic tour book to Brussels. Confessions of a Brussels Diplomat. Brussels eroticism, Viennese eroticism, Berlin eroticism, etc. Each has its own flavour, its own culture.  Oh Jennifer. Oh Inna. I want Paloma too, and Emily. And Perrie. And Tatiana. Christ will I do it this time??? 

1970s smut. 1970s aesthetic. The wonderful smell of a porn cinema. All that cum. Christ I want to see Beatrice now. Helen. Even Eva's big tits. Dangerously aroused now. London eroticism used to be porn cinemas, Soho models, and fully nude strippers.  Down steepling stairs into a cigar smoke thick basement in dark, in half light men reading their newspapers, with jazz music playing, till curtain squeaks open, papers down, next girl comes on to strip. Tallulah. The first naked woman I ever saw. I could hardly breathe and not just because of the thick smoke. 

7th April 2017

Yes, all I want is the Priapic thrill of the night bars. Brocken, and Reichenbach Falls will have to wait, and Italy. More than anything I want WSK in Vienna and Cine Paris in Brussels. Plus whatever working videokabins I can still find. Jennifer in Empire. Fifth Avenue. I live for this, Priapism. Persistent erection of the penis. Porn and prostitution. Dark porn cinemas. This is what makes me happy. Oh how long can I delay the return to Brussels. I would like to write that great erotic novel, that captures the wonderful smutty soot on leaves eroticism of my life. My Beardsley Under the Hill.
I CANNOT BE HORRIFIED AT THAT HUGE DEBT OF MINE, BECAUSE IT WAS SPENT ON TRAVELLING AND HAVING SEX WITH FANTASTIC WHORES IN EUROPE. EVERYTHING AND THE ONLY THING I WANT TO DO. It was all money well spent. Starting to wonder if my austerity is going too far now.

3rd April 2017

Mentally and spiritually I was already living in Berlin and Vienna and Munich for so many years before I ever set foot there, so imagine how amazing it was to finally go there. In 1999 the Rubicon was finally crossed (i.e. the English Channel).
Oh Christ, so many magnificent beautiful girls on the train to Charing X tonight. Getting on at --, blonde in shoulderless black long dress over most beautiful big bosoms. Then as my bus headed to Trafalgar Square we passed her again; one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, with two of the most beautiful big bosoms straining inside that black dress, almost popping over it. Sensational.
So much crumpet everywhere. I used Kerry Marie to get me to sleep today. And when I say used I think you know very well what I mean.

17th March 2017

So wake Wednesday morning and after brief reality check, realise I have a THIRD day off. And I can go out drinking again. Feel excited about it. Even thinking about --. Got the 12 o'clock train and some b*tch sits opposite me looking across me out the window the whole journey. I look back once and she was looking directly into my eyes for three whole seconds before I looked away, and she kept looking my way the whole journey. F**king wh*re. Hope she trips flat on her ugly face. Went in -- and never left! Had four then this gorgeous little girl comes in and collects empty glass from side in front of me, and I thought if she is the barmaid I am not leaving, and she was. The most beautiful gorgeous barmaid the -- has ever had. Polka dot blue & white sleeveless top over chubby arms, then black legs over curvy bum and legs, but TINY! The shortest girl I think I have ever seen. You cannot see her face above the taps. But absolutely gorgeous. I will be in there every day on my days off now, just to be around her. Better than going to --, or to look for Greek Anna, or big 8 Greek Street Laura.

I thought seriously yesterday about going to 4 Lisle Street to see this Greek Anna, and to go to 8 Greek to check for big Laura, even 2 Greens to see Mary, and -- of course;  but then I was telling myself no, not on a cold day like this, wait for a blazing hot summer day when the sweat is shining on your skin, and the naked girls are bouncing around, and you feel so horny. Those early morning Porcupine sessions. THEN I can look for Greek Anna or Laura or Mary. And by NOT going to -- or anywhere else I was rewarded by that extraordinary moment that gorgeous new barmaid walked in. I was just thinking will I ever meet a girl I could love or really fancy again, and doubting it, then she walked in. Oh yes, I could fancy her all right, I could love to take her back to my little nest. Hell yes. Long time since I met anyone like that.

7th March 2017

OK so I had my big -- blowout which has got that out of my system, now I have had my big Axe blowout which has hopefully got this out of my system. Beatrice from Turkey, Amy big, Natalie big. One dance with Beatrice. Stay in next week. To make up for this £150 withdrawal this week.
Back on the straight and narrow now.

6th March 2017

Monday was warm and sunny and like first day of spring. I could not sleep so went out to get the 12 o'clock to Cannon Street. Crossing bottom of -- and turning up station road was little blonde. Around the corner she took her coat off and I could see she was wearing little black trouser suit one-piece, and her little arse was bouncing and wobbling around. So sexy. Overtook her, then saw her coming down steps of bridge towards me, low-cut black top, blue tint shades, had to take three looks at her.
Then sexy barmaid in the Hawkshaw, brown bun hair, tight plum dress so tight I could see the ribbing on her bra and large breasts. Sadly she only served me the first pint and I never saw her when going back for 2 and 3. One more pint in the Crosse Keys then 48 bus to Hackney Road. --- behind bar, she thinks --- is in  Brazil at the moment. Maybe it is her who has retired?
Terrifyingly I have no memory of how I got home. I fell asleep with my lenses in. No memory of leaving --, of getting back to station, getting train, walking home. None at all. Scary. I seem to have got through £60. £16 on pints before the Axe, let's say £20 on four pints when I got there perhaps, that would be £24 to the girls, but I certainly don't remember seeing 24 stage dances! I think I can remember one only.
I do remember later on a pretty black-haired girl in blue dress, Beatrice from Turkey. Prettiest stripper I have seen for long time. It was her I was thinking of this morning. Now I want to go straight back today. But later.

Thursday 9th February 2017

PORNOTOPIA. Cumpots. Oriental Cumpots. That is where the answer lies for me. To stand in corner of Cine Paris wanking & let my cum shoot out across the carpet, let me do that. Dive deeper into porn. Again, I have barely scratched the surface of erotic pleasure I can indulge in Brussels. 

Sunday 5th February 2017

Should be raining all afternoon up till 4PM. Nowhere I want to go. S--? No. A--? Perhaps. But really no desire for it. I have had my dose of naked breasts for the week. Expensive dose at that. Another £100 session. Maybe just go on a Strand pub crawl. Lyceum, Coal Hole, Nell Gwynn, Marquis, Calcutta home BEFORE 4. I have £40 in my pocket already. Cannot stay in every day on my days off, that is not life. At least go out and see some pretty girls maybe.

Saturday 4th Feb 2017

How good it is when drinking in London, Sunset Strip IS always there from 12 onwards, Axe IS always there. Any time of day you can go and enjoy your beer while looking at naked women; in Europe you have to wait to 9pm if you can find any strip clubs at all, and even then it is topless only. Disgusting! But how good it is in Brussels I have got Fifth Avenue bar full of floozies to sit in all day, a road full of window girls all day, a Porn Cinema all day. How good in Vienna there is a porn cinema with HOSTESSES all day; and then fantastic Manhattan at night. The travel bug oh God is growing again; why I need to go to pubs in London on my days off. Monday for sure.

Friday 3rd February 2017

Spring will be here soon, then I will start feeling randy again. I imagine going back to Fifth Avenue with such a hunger that will carry me into the bedroom with Bulgarian slim Emily, or black bob Tatiana, or Paloma. I am feeling the wolfish gnawing hunger already. But I must wait longer. Indulge in breasts in London if I have to, and lots of drink, to keep me away from travel. 

Thursday 2nd February 2017

"People are admiring you." "You have presence." "Get out of your own way." Who knows these negotiations may even work out BETTER for me? Don't need to be caught up in all this whirlstorm of fear, anxiety and angst. "You stand on the threshold of abundance. Align yourself with like-minded people, with people who see your value. People trying to pull you down are pulling you down out of fear." Fear you are having more sex than them, fear you are having more sexual pleasure than them, fear you are more intelligent than them, more gifted than them, more beautiful than them. "Tap into your gifts".

Soon we won't even be allowed to use these girls in black masses & all our other satanic rituals. This is PC gone mad!

One day there may be a #timesup against feminazis & the beta men who weakly, meekly comply with their own castration. A #metoo movement of all those beautiful women who lost their jobs because they were more annoyingly beautiful than the feminazis could bear. 

As a Freudian of course I believe everything is about sex. People tried to destroy Bill Clinton, & tried to destroy Oscar Wilde, etc, etc, etc, as they SEEMED TO BE enjoying so much more deliciously dirty sex, & getting away with it. We all have to tap into whatever gifts we have to make our way in this world. Beautiful women can tap into their beauty, but from now on the feminazis are going to close down every possible career for these women that they can. You must NOT be able to make money out of your beauty! You must NOT be able to  make money out of  your sexual desirability! But sexual desire is so much a central part of life. None of us would be here if not for uncontrollable sexual desire between our makers. These feminazis and their weak, cowering beta men enablers are terrified of beauty, terrified of sexual desire, anti-life. As Henry Miller said, we need men and women with dynamos between their legs! As Oscar Wilde said, a new hedonism, that is what our century needs! Fight back! Rise up!

 Wednesday 1st February 2017 

The excitement of a holiday only starts when the plan completely changes. When the day I had the ticket to come home changes to the day I decide to stay on or go somewhere else first, BEFORE going home. That is the ONLY TIME my holidays burst to life and I burst to life. However, these last minute changes of plan and last minute postponements of the homeward journey are expensive. They are mad, and exciting, and expensive. My three days Brussels trip that turned into seven days brought me the discovery of Leyla. My Vienna rip [trip, not rip; Freudian slip] with last night in Frankfurt which turned instead into last night in Brussels brought me discovery of Brazilian Diane.

Tuesday 31st January 2017

Monday 30th January 2017

My monk's life has begun. This looks like being the whole rest of my life now.

Sunday 29th January 2017

Shit before work nothing on paper except fresh light red blood. The Belgian lager is certainly knocking me out. Struggling to walk home in straight line; just goes to show how slaughtered I must be when I go to Brussels and have can after can after can of 5.2% and this is just 5%.

Saturday 28th January 2017

That is now 9 days without alcohol. 9 days without spending any money at all. This is the year of austerity and frugality and monkishness.  To repair my bank first of all, and then after that start to reduce my cards. The year of monkishness and Munich is the home of the monks. I should go to Munich to pay tribute to this time of my life, when I travel again.*****Feel like going to --- Monday. Restricting yourself is so boring. My weight is creeping up again, 15 stone or just over, despite all these days I have spent at home, and so long since I went to a pub. Had two cans of Belgian Lager on way home (that is exactly what it is called) from Marks & Spencer. That was enough to render me unable to have orgasm or ejaculate. Gave up in the end. Just shows how pointless to drink so much before 5th Avenue. No pleasure in contrast to the pleasure the day before when I was sober. But with that lager inside me I was thinking so much of Leyla in 5th Avenue. Diane.

Friday 27th January 2017

If they are waiting for ME to walk, they will have a long wait. I am like a limpet. A barnacle.

What filled me with such despair now I see as possibly a magnificent thing.

"You will find the answers, if you stand back, and view everything from a larger perspective." How apposite. What can I say I really long for in my life? To get back to Brussels, to get back to Vienna. To find another girl like Adelaide, ---, Cassia. To greatly reduce my credit card debt.

Wednesday 25th January 2017

Straight to bed before 9AM then a marathon wanking session of most exquisite quality until 1130 at least, sexy ASMR, Sophie Mei and Arianna Sinn in showers just the start, then busty dentist, busty Asian nurse, busty maid, busty yoga. And xhamster teen pics. Then woke gasping for a breath at 330PM and I only had a chocolate Swiss roll before bed. Then a gassy shit insistent, no choice.***

Christ stunning blonde girl got on B--- with boyfriend. Blonde, black furry short coat over tiny pink taffeta dress and gorgous long naked legs above black knee high boots. Stunning young little f--k doll. A real little Lolita. Her legs must have been freezing but if you have legs like that no wonder you want to show them off.

Tuesday 24th January 2017

"No matter what you come up against today, be a presence so stirring, so self confident and focused. Use your willpower and discipline to your advantage. You will be triumphant (even if it catches you by surprise)."

"if you are flexible, balance and self assured, what drives you internally will absolutely show up in the tangible. You may pursue something with single minded intent, and it leads you to a fathomless well of abundance. What it's about in the beginning is never what it's about in the end. There is a feeling of strength in knowing your own worth, a deep sense of well being on every front."

Monday 23rd January 2017

Christ, amazing reading about all the literary figures who spent time and wrote great things in Brussels. Baudelaire, the Brontë sisters, Hugo, Marx, etc etc. I have so MANY pilgrimages to do when I go back. Baudelaire's hotel Le Grand Miroir in rue de Montagne 28 just behind Grand Place, the hospital he was taken to (same one Rimbaud went to after Verlaine shot him) which is now [perhaps not] the Passage 44 car park looking thing opposite Botanique. The Swan restaurant in Grand Place where Marx used to go and probably completed the Communist Manifesto. Charlotte Brontë wrote two novels inspired by her professor in Brussels who she fell in love with. So many places for me to make pilgrimage to when I go back. And the sex exhibition finishes March 17 remember. So many Brussels poems to read too.

Sunday 22nd January 2017

This is a massive year for me. The year I finally control my spending and focus everything on reducing my credit card debt massively. That will set me up for the rest of my life. Perhaps my own nest again in 2018. Oh my God, can you believe tonight is the 22ND anniversary of first meeting black bob at Sunset Strip?

Watching Rick Stein's Long Weekend in Vienna makes me yearn for Vienna again. To go to Freud's house where he came up with the Oedipus Complex in 1908, same year Klimt painted The Kiss, same year young Adolf Hitler arrived in Vienna. Oh to be in Café Westend again; oh to be ABLE to spend every day in Café Westend and not worry about money; to spend every night in Manhattan and not worry about money. Let me only travel again when I DON'T have to worry about money.

"Monstrous bosoms typically developing quite precociously, swelling like swamps owing to the humidity of the climate and the gluttony of the women." Baudelaire was planning a book on Belgium where he lived from 1864 to 67. He had a muse here (whore) Appollonie Sabatier. Here he began to drink to excess. It was here he suffered massive stroke and paralysis which he had for last 2 years of his life.  "There is an invincible taste for prostitution in the heart of man, from which comes his horror of solitude." There is a Sex in Brussels exhibition at St Gery till 17th March! Looking at the brothels of Brussels since 1830s. Think I will have to miss it. We will see.