Welcome
My name is Lord Randolph Forphington III and this is my humble blog.
Please, make yourselves at home.
My sole existence in this magical world you call The Blogosphere is due to one reason and one reason only - love. Yes, she is a magical mistress, Love - she guides me places I never imagined I would find myself and yet here I am, on some sort of "screen" and pressing lettered buttons on a "keyboard".
All rather amazing for a Victorian era gentleman such as myself, I am sure you can imagine.
Dearest heart's desire - if She be here, reading my clumsy words - any prose I attempt on this "blog" can never do you the justice you so richly deserve. Like all great Beauties on this earth, you are to be felt through ones heart and ones soul - not described through the inadequacies of language.
Trying to describe you in words merely debases someone pure like yourself to a mortal level, something for simple men like myself to consume and comprehend as best we can. And you are far from mortal, my darling Angel. You are Heaven on Earth. You are shooting stars across the London skye. You are the smell of a fox to the moist nose of an Irish setter. You are the juiciest fruit, and you get me going.
Yes, ye be many things to me, and I am - and can only be - one thing to your magical self.
Unworthy!
Lord Randolph Forphington III xxx
Please, make yourselves at home.
My sole existence in this magical world you call The Blogosphere is due to one reason and one reason only - love. Yes, she is a magical mistress, Love - she guides me places I never imagined I would find myself and yet here I am, on some sort of "screen" and pressing lettered buttons on a "keyboard".
All rather amazing for a Victorian era gentleman such as myself, I am sure you can imagine.
Dearest heart's desire - if She be here, reading my clumsy words - any prose I attempt on this "blog" can never do you the justice you so richly deserve. Like all great Beauties on this earth, you are to be felt through ones heart and ones soul - not described through the inadequacies of language.
Trying to describe you in words merely debases someone pure like yourself to a mortal level, something for simple men like myself to consume and comprehend as best we can. And you are far from mortal, my darling Angel. You are Heaven on Earth. You are shooting stars across the London skye. You are the smell of a fox to the moist nose of an Irish setter. You are the juiciest fruit, and you get me going.
Yes, ye be many things to me, and I am - and can only be - one thing to your magical self.
Unworthy!
Lord Randolph Forphington III xxx
posted by The Ghost Of Lord Randolph Forphington III at 3:19 PM
8 Comments:
*swoons*
*giggles*
*swoons again*
The sound of your laughter makes me swell with love for you...
*bows charmingly-but-erotically*
*curtseys coquettishly*
*cheques spelling of 'curtsey'*
*and coquettishly*
*butts in*
this foof fest is getting me all hot and bothered.
*feels gooseberryish and leaves*
Oh my beautiful dove, you do so make me laugh with your great wit and charm!
*chortles in a friendly-and-not-creepy manner*
Heh heh haha heh....
*though still manages to keep a twinkle in eye which is frankly rather saucy*
Welcome, Fluffy. I see that my Heavenly One has friends who are nearly as beautiful as she...
Your slim legs, blonde hair and ocean blue eyes ought to ensure that some young man, from the Victorian era or perhaps another point in time, falls as deeply for you as I have for the spirited and stunning Nadine.
Well, almost as deeply...
xxx
Dear Lord, he knows how to italicise and use photo shop! Marriage worthy indeed
thank you for my virtual flower, randy!
you forgot to mention my insouciant expression and my dainty splayed feet.
what's with the only being here a few days? i think you owe it to your beloved to stick around a little longer no?
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