Monday, 31 December 2018

New Year's Eve. Christ I am going to have so many chances to look for M-- (or S--) after Friday 5th

New Year's Eve. Christ I am going to have so many chances to look for M-- (or S--) after Friday 5th. A whole week of London pubs. Starting with Sunset Strip that Friday night.
Standing at Victoria barrier as I came through, black hair, black eye make up, black fake lashes, red lips, brown fur coat over black party dress slit to stomach and ENORMOUS TITS on full display in middle! Saw inside half of both tits on clear display, beautiful beautiful voluptuous fat tits, best tits I've seen since L--. Sensational. Made my New Year's Eve.
On train in thinking yes nice to do something with S--, but oh how much better if M-- started to happen! Got erection straightaway at THAT thought! Spend more time in Calcutta, and if M-- is there NEVER leave. That moment when she giggled shyly "You confuse me! I don't know why!" is pretty much the most incredible moment of year. But at almost the same time these incredible looks and actions from S-- are also pretty extraordinary. I must be blooming & blossoming right now.
Excited for 2018? Intrigued what may happen with S-- or M--. Yearning to return to Brussels for Ibis, L'Orient Express and Le Coin this time; but really that must be a way off. My bank will hit -950 before payday as it is! Still -500 by February. That is WITHOUT strippers. Hope I hang on to my job and manage to keep getting my --- each month. I have published six paperbacks in second half of this year, THERAPY, A SEASON IN HELL, AUTISMUS, LOTTA, THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS, and THE MORNING AFTER. To come in 2018 CASANOVA (LOST WANDERINGS), MARRIAGE, TWELFTH NIGHT.


Sunday, 30 December 2018

They keep attacking because I am still hurting them

They keep attacking because I am still hurting them. My very existence and my thriving is hurting them so intensely.

Saturday, 29 December 2018

GENT magazine. Huge boobs smoking

GENT magazine. Huge boobs smoking.
Suddenly I am thinking Monday,  New Year's Day, on way home Monday morning I could either go straight out hang out in pub or rush home and come back out early, for few beers then look for Romilly Laura (have I seen her before?) and 2 Lisle Street Veronica laughing short Bulgarian. Then Friday 5th will be Sunset night. I knew it, I HAVE seen Laura, back in August, pretty and quite busty, but I did not stay, as she did not have that soft shyness that I like. A hint of soft tenderness. Still, would be nice to have a glance at those boobs again, but more interested now in checking out this tubby young smiling Veronica at 2 Lisle. We shall see.


Thursday, 27 December 2018

Two things I realise: Sunset Strip is closed until New Year but so of course is Charing Cross and Cannon Street! That surely increases chances of me going straight to -- this afternoon

Two things I realise: Sunset Strip is closed until New Year, but so of course is Charing Cross and Cannon Street! That surely increases chances of me going straight to -- this afternoon. Unless I get off 38 and go to C-- instead. Listening to all this Youtube music tonight made me crave some naked striptease. After my big Christmas dinner tomorrow I think my temptation more than anything will be to stay in all day and that will be it then till 2nd January.
What I achieved over Christmas at work was realising CASANOVA finishes at end of December 2006, with those final elegiac visits to Sunset Strip, Queen Anne and Scotsman after Carmen. Also downloaded about 40 new songs onto the -- playlist, and tonight onto my computer as well.
I could get 38 to C-- and only if really boring carry on straight to -- after 5. If C-- nice, stay there only. ****  820PM A brief visit to C-- but quite revelatory. S-- on her own, no specs, Dutch manager. At 5 -- and Tongan came in TOGETHER prompting much sniggering with S-- and Dutch, he wanted to know everything, every second. S-- put coat on at 5 and came around this side to drink her Baileys, and clinked glasses with man next to me reading his phone, a regular, but then reached out and wanted to clink glasses with me as well, and looked deep into my eyes for a long time. Going to be there NEXT Friday all day 10 to 10. Perfect. I feel close to asking her.
She just makes me HAPPY when I see her. And erection on way home thinking of her. And my music on my phone sounded AMAZING. Glad I resisted -- today. S-- was more exciting.

Tuesday, 25 December 2018

So horny when I woke this afternoon but it is the first of the twelve nights of course, the first of the twelve "hairy nights"

So horny when I woke this afternoon but it is the first of the twelve nights of course, the first of the twelve "hairy nights". If Zara too skinny now, perhaps Greek Street Mary if I could find her? But like I say I only have Wednesday anyway. Just as well, keep me out of trouble and reduce my spend, before the long eight days off in the New Year.
I am starting to wonder if Casanova (Lost Wanderings) is JUST 2006 and has to stop at December 2006. After that is TOO sad and painful and fragmented. There really seems nothing of any body after that at all. So then the silent gap becomes 2007-2010. Four years of non record. Because, of course, four years of no travelling. And it twas during that period coincidentally all my favourite places closed down, all of Berlin Stuttgarter Platz and Vienna Pour Platin for sure.  *** Amazing to think CASANOVA is now going to finish December 2006 with those final three visits to Sunset Strip Jolanda, Queen Anne Redd, and Flying Scotsman after Carmen when I got thrown out. I then fall into silence for more than THREE YEARS, not a word will I publish from 2007, 2008, 2009, until second half of 2010. By then Queen Anne will be closed, Stuttgarter Platz closed, Pour Platin closed. The world will have changed. That last chapter of CASANOVA then really feels like an epitaph for that whole world, whole way of life.

Monday, 24 December 2018

So Saturday I forced myself to -- with no enthusiasm whatsoever and sure enough felt no desire for anyone

So Saturday I forced myself to -- with no enthusiasm whatsoever, and sure enough felt no desire for anyone. S-- pretty enough but nothing special. But it is good because I think I will never go to -- again. Maybe if -- comes back with those enormous tits, but other than that, never. That too should help reduce my expenditure even further in the New Year. NOT going to Brussels already puts me one up on last year, and cutting out the -- will help even further. In these -- constricted times.
Just Sunday and Christmas Monday night to get through then two days off. Presume I will stay in Boxing Day Tuesday, with my two cans of  Belgian Lager and snowballs. Then I can return to -- and Calcutta on Tuesday. I did well in 2017 reducing my debt by £4,000 and my goal for 2018 is to reduce it even further, by at least £4,000 again if I can. Always reducing it by between £335-500 every month. No more -- will help. And refraining from a New Year Brussels.
Also in 2017 I have published AUTISMUS, LOTTA and THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS in paperback, and added to them THE MORNING AFTER, A SEASON IN HELL and THERAPY. Six books now published in paperback, recording my journey through life from December 1996 up to December 2005. Press on with CASANOVA (LOST WANDERINGS) 2006-2007 now, then MARRIAGE, then TWELFTH NIGHT, and all the TRAVEL DIARIES that follow that.
Press on with the incredible -- in Calcutta, and -- in --. Perhaps a Brussels trip in February. We will see. 2018 is all about ACCELERATING my credit card debt reduction if possible. And carry on with my publishing.

Sunday, 23 December 2018

I swear to God I thought it was Saturday all day yesterday (Friday)

I swear to God I thought it was Saturday all day yesterday (Friday). On train in to Charing Cross I was thinking I hope all the football supporters are not in the pubs, then I was thinking oh -- is never there on a Saturday. -- WAS there, looking stunning in blood red tight blouse over those huge boobs. But after one I went to --, and slim brunette was behind bar and pub was packed, why so busy on a Saturday I thought, but of course it was packed, it was Friday afternoon, so I went for one in Comedy Pub, then came back in to -- and there was --, hair wild and long and beautiful, "She is trying to impress someone" said slim, --'s blouse undone really low as well so I could see top of white vest holding those boobies in place. Bought her a drink, she asked for a half cider and I said no Baileys? so she changed to Baileys. I had three then was going to leave but Tongan appeared as well! So stayed for fourth, but next to -- Tongan seemed so small & slight. Back to Calcutta for at least one more so that is seven or eight, home on 630pm train I think.

Friday, 21 December 2018

To think I have been in the room where Heroes was conceived and given birth to. Song and album. Musically that building, that room, is the holy of holies

To think I have been in the room where Heroes was conceived, and given birth to. Song, and album. Musically, that building, that room, is the holy of holies.

Tuesday, 18 December 2018

I got on last carriage of course and following me to get on very pretty brunette girl

I got on last carriage of course and following me to get on very pretty brunette girl, sat in seat in front on other side, soon looked back over her shoulder and our eyes met, Getting off at London Bridge with her friend standing at door she turned right around so she could look at me again. Really big meaty thighs and hips but such such pretty face and straight brown hair.
The amazing thing is A SEASON IN HELL is now my favourite book [soon to be re-issued as GRAND HOTEL], it is so good, so intense, so powerful. And to think there wasn't even an idea for such a book until December 1st and by December 9th it was done and published! THERAPY will be almost as good I reckon.


Sunday, 16 December 2018

Yes financially it would be stupid to go Brussels on 9th January for two nights

Yes financially it would be stupid to go Brussels on 9th January for two nights, but £50 Eurostar and £119 Ibis, plus say £200 spend is only £369, and for the high pleasure of L'Orient Express, Ibis bar, chicken & chips, Le Coin, Cine Paris and Fifth….? Last trip for several months? Or why not just postpone it until March, say, and instead enjoy --. Yes Brussels, but the burning thought of being able to pay off £500 a month off my credit cards is strong.

Saturday, 15 December 2018

Whole -- family on train to Charing Cross tonight

Whole -- family on train to Charing Cross tonight (7 minutes late again by time we arrived), but just through gap in chairs I could see one of them was stunning peroxide blonde voluptuous ponytail girl, in red Xmas jumper, beautiful, slight Asiatic features and accent, and once she mentioned the word Japan, so reckon half Japanese-English. Beautiful. Just my type. Stunning.
Stunning new young cleaner, shy, no English, M-- Zapata, stunning beautiful cheeks and bone structure you would expect from a Zapata, so pretty.

Friday, 14 December 2018

Listening to Million Reasons on walk back home this morning I felt I have got one more really big C-- day in me before Christmas

Listening to Million Reasons on walk back home this morning, I felt I have got one more really big C-- day in me before Christmas. Where I go deep. Maybe Sunday.
"There’s a theory — first put forward by the British writer Lucille Iremonger — about the drive for power and control among children who were abandoned at an early age. Writing in 1970, Iremonger noted that 67 percent of U.K. prime ministers from the start of the 19th century to 1939 had lost a parent before the age of 16. Others have remarked that 12 U.S. presidents, including Bill Clinton and Barack Obama, lost their fathers while they were young. Theresa May lost both parents in her 20s. Davis not only fits this pattern perfectly; when the theory is mentioned, he’s immediately familiar with it. “It’s called the fight-on complex,” he says. “Lucille Iremonger wrote about lots of orphaned, or illegitimate children.” Does Davis have this fight-on complex? “I don’t know,” he says. “I think people are what they do.” " ** Going early you see SO many sexy young girls. Stunning black ponytail girl, exotic olive skin, looked like with English mother and Asian/Persian father waiting to get on train at Victoria, blue & white stripe sailor jumper over lovely knockers, could see outline of bra under it as well. Big black made-up eyes, stunning, one of the all time great beauties. Bit like A-- or those M&S girls.


Tuesday, 11 December 2018

Woke 5am with window open to sound of rain or snow falling outside, ice cold, but naked and mostly uncovered and loving the coldness

Woke 5am with window open to sound of rain or snow falling outside, ice cold, but naked and mostly uncovered, and loving the coldness. Desperate for piss, but then started to think of Tongan and then got erection that just would not go away, Thought of being in my own flat now cuddled in bed with her, watching TV, f**king. Long for her. But today more snow and ice. Trains to -- surely out of the question. Anyway start 1pm with Calcutta and --. Then decide whether to press on to -- or --.

Monday, 10 December 2018

SNOW! Proper thick snow everywhere as I came home. I yearn to see C-- today

SNOW! Proper thick snow everywhere as I came home. I yearn to see C-- today, whoever she is or isn't working with, just to see her. I need to lie down, but I am conscious if she was on the afternoon shift today she would be leaving home and starting her journey to the -- now, so I want to be as well. If no names I think I will probably stay home today (Charing X closed). *** Christ even THERAPY is brilliant now! I am loving it! Splitting THERAPY from A SEASON IN HELL has absolutely worked [the latter now rewritten as GRAND HOTEL] Woke 245pm and saw C-- and I-- after 7, but with --/--/--/--. Not enough in this ice cold snowy icy weather. Well done.



Sunday, 9 December 2018

One other thing from -- on Thursday while I was huddled in corner talking to -- she was in that little side bit apparently taking selfies but noticeably the phone was pointing in MY direction

One other thing from -- on Thursday, while I was huddled in corner talking to --, she was in that little side bit apparently taking selfies but noticeably the phone was pointing in MY direction while she was taking her selfies, so she could just as easily have been taking pictures of me. And then when I ended the call and approached the bar that is when she confessed she only gave ME wrong change, as I confused her, she didn't know why. Funny how she stood there facing me with camera though, flicking her hair when I looked to make it LOOK like she was taking selfies; similar to that grey coat blonde on -- platform two nights earlier who stood facing ME the whole time while we waited for train. The smiles from Tongan, the desire from S--. I am feeling very attractive right now.  *** 437am A SEASON IN HELL is published. Just in review now. My fifth book. Suddenly realise the preceding diary entries 1996-1998 in the THERAPY period DO look quite interesting now they stand alone!

Saturday, 8 December 2018

Some incredible little things have been happening actually

Some incredible little things have been happening actually. First I got that clear sign that -- was attracted to me, because she was all jumpy that week day I went in and bought her a drink, but then Sunday I saw her next and she said thanks to me so coldly with hatred in her eyes. Then last time I saw Tongan she was smiling at me so sexily and I felt a spark between us. Then Tuesday on way to work that blonde in grey coat stood on -- platform eating her crisps but standing facing my way the whole time as I walked up & down platform, when there was no reason at all to be facing my way. Then that INCREDIBLE out of the blue comment from -- yesterday "You confuse me! I don't know why!" which gave me an instant erection, the meaning behind the words seeming so clear.

Friday, 7 December 2018

Got 12 o'clock train to Calcutta, -- there looking beautiful in elegant bow-tied black blouse and red lipstick

Got 12 o'clock train to Calcutta, -- there looking beautiful in elegant bow-tied black blouse and red lipstick. Shortchanged me again by one pound which I pointed out. Early to packed -- and new girl Sophie. -- was packed and no girls behind bar so straight back to Calcutta for pints 3-5. Took call from Gavin as I came in so was huddled in corner talking to him before finally going to bar, whereupon -- was shyly grinning as she poured my pint and said "I only give wrong change to you! You confuse me! I don't know why!" What a stunning thing for her to admit! What was she really trying to tell me? Surely that was her letting me know I affected her and she is attracted to me? Later she came up and gave me my card as I had forgotten it haha. I told her she must confuse me as well. Very very interesting. -- just came back to life for me.


Tuesday, 4 December 2018

Well went in to -- for two pints on way back to Charing Cross after work Sunday

Well went in to -- for two pints on way back to Charing Cross after work Sunday. S-- and lesbian. A completely cold, unsmiling thank you from S-- as I left, cold as ice, contempt. Which of course just proves that she DID want me to do something the other day. Calcutta was closed lucky for me, so home by 945pm. Woke up this morning dreaming of --, finding me at party, angry that I never did anything with her. I pulled her back, "give me another chance". Woke with iron hard erection. What memories -- gave me, how I lusted after her.

Monday, 3 December 2018

That incredible moment Friday night when that beautiful girl at -- Station followed me from front of train to the very back

That incredible moment Friday night when that beautiful girl at -- Station followed me from front of train to the very back. That incredible moment Saturday when -- Tongan was smiling and laughing with me, and I am sure caught her looking at me from the side. A SEASON IN HELL has just been born. It is fantastic. I realise I can suddenly claim back £2,100.
When I really want something, like wanting my own little nest now, I always find a way inexorably somehow to make it happen.


Friday, 30 November 2018

Christ THERAPY now seems fantastic putting all that Season of the Flesh 1998 stuff in. Now it has to be called A SEASON IN HELL

Christ THERAPY now seems fantastic, putting all that Season of the Flesh 1998 stuff in. Now it has to be called A SEASON IN HELL, and now suddenly it can only be set in Brussels, not Munich! Yes this is my own Rimbaudesque Season in Hell in Brussels 1996-1999.
Discovered I need to go to Leopold Park in Brussels, where Lemaître approached Einstein and tried to persuade him of his "Primeval Atom" theory of the birth of the universe. This breakthrough on A SEASON IN HELL makes me yearn for Le Coin, and the Ibis, and L'Orient Express more than ever; also to see C-- and E-- on Saturday and have their naked bodies writhing against my iron cock. ** What an EXTRAORDINARY record I am creating. Has any man documented their journey through life as minutely as me? Longing suddenly for C-- and E-- on Saturday just pushes back Le Coin even further. A £100 spent in -- is £100 I could have put towards a £50 Snap ticket and perhaps £50 a night hotel room in Ibis.

Wednesday, 28 November 2018

YES LET THERAPY BE A PROPER NIETZSCHEAN ZARATHRUSTRIAN SUPERMAN RANT. SOMETHING ECSTATIC ON ONE LONG HEIGHTENED NOTE OF HYSTERIA

YES LET THERAPY 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 butterfly pinned to board" stuff.

Tuesday, 27 November 2018

There is so much great stuff in that late 1998 sexual rampancy defiant against the war against me; such powerful polemical stuff. I HAVE to use it

There is so much great stuff in that late 1998 sexual rampancy defiant against the war against me; such powerful polemical stuff. I HAVE to use it. Maybe cut the worm in half like I did with The Morning After and Casanova, suddenly instead of one book that does not work, I have two similar books that work fantastically well already! Perhaps I will find that THERAPY and A SEASON IN HELL will have to be split, two very small monographs. Set in Munich still, I still feel that. So curious to see C-- again, to see what I immediately feel; at same time have A--'s arse to enjoy, and I--'s sad prettiness, and V--'s enormous arse!


Monday, 26 November 2018

With my financial situation being what it is I can never get involved with anyone again

With my financial situation being what it is I can never get involved with anyone again; especially with my yearning to return to Brussels and Le Coin and my yearning to return to Vienna and WSK. I need all my money for myself, and all my freedom for myself.

Sunday, 25 November 2018

I finally opened my eyes 752 am this Saturday morning to do a wee

I finally opened my eyes 752 am this Saturday morning to do a wee. Wanting to do this wee made it a tossing & turning night, in and out of sleep. Dreamed I was in big big house with -- and butler but the man of the house was away. Then me and -- naked, I rubbing my cock against her back as she was on top of me masturbating herself very quickly to orgasm. Then I naked with erection about to get into shower and she takes knickers off and is naked too, but the butler naked with erection comes in and apologises and steps into shower ahead of us. We went out again and then I woke I think.
God knows how much I drank, I don't even remember. I got the 725pm train home and got the 205 to Charing Cross. One in Calcutta, sexy -- in black spiderweb top, tight, lacy top half showed the line of her cleavage valley and shoulders. One in --, my girl was there but MONOPOLISED by boring young beardy non stop talking sitting at bar, off duty staff I am guessing but just talking non stop to her the whole time. Off duty staff should never be allowed to be in pub talking to barmaids. Because of that I left after just one instead of staying all afternoon. One in -- but already packed and it wasn't even 4pm yet. Beautiful brunette behind bar in long black dress with sparkly black top bit over lovely tits, but then I saw the bottom half was in fact trousers. But those tits great. Not sure if this is the brunettte I keep seeing but she keeps looking different. Then black girl turned up and white face girl from Halloween but it was far too busy so again left after one. So back to Calcutta and started only my fourth pint. But I was still there THREE HOURS LATER? No memory. Don't remember seeing any pretty faces either, I kept drifting off inside my head, and had to keep telling myself, refocus! refocus your eyes! but of course then drifted off again.

Journals Volume 1 (1996-2001): A Soho Golden Age by Ernst Graf Reviewed by Jad Adams


Journals Volume 1 (1996-2001): A Soho Golden Age by Ernst Graf
 Reviewed by Jad Adams
NB: Mr Adams submitted this review to Amazon and Amazon perfectly understandably removed it as two days earlier I--with customary bad timing--had made significant changes to the structure of the book, completely removing the parts entitled 'Therapy' and 'A Season in Hell' which Mr Adams alludes to below. These two parts will shortly be published under separate cover as THERAPY and GRAND HOTEL, containing 95% of the text that was formerly in my JOURNALS VOLUME 1. Mr Adams has kindly allowed me to print his review here. Only my ex-wife (bless her) understands just how much Ernest Dowson means to me, and that is solely thanks to Mr Adams, which is what makes his words below so emotional for me. I thank him for them.
In the 1880s the Norwegian writer Knut Hamsun roamed the streets of Christiania (Oslo) and wrote a book about what he felt: Hunger (1890). That is what is in the book: an account of his famished wanderings. In a work widely described as being the foundation text of modernism, it introduces stream of consciousness, interior monologue, it has no background or plot, his human inter-actions are misunderstandings, his logic for his actions (such as it is) is bizarre and personal.
 Reading Ernst Graf’s journal made me think again and again of the starving Norwegian. The narrator, guided by nothing but habit and eroticism goes to strip clubs, porn cinemas and prostitutes. He remarks, ‘Any day out in London that does not end in me getting my cock out, or being completely naked, is an incomplete day.’ This is Knut Hamsun with a hard-on.
 He feels superior in his exuberant sexuality, ‘I feel strong, relaxed and powerful because I am indulging my polymorphous perversity.’ He nurtures a wish ‘to see how far I can push my priapism till it destroys me’ which is not an ambition shared by a great many people.
 He is not without introspection: he examines his behaviour and worries that he is not being extreme enough. His introduction to treatment is not explained, but he does go to therapy sessions, ‘where ‘I was able to talk about my greatness’ which is perhaps not what the therapist (also an object of his lust) had in mind.
 The lack of conventional literary structure in this book is highlighted by its construction. There are no page numbers, no days are noted though sometimes a chapter has a date which shows it covers a clearly defined period such as ‘Chapter 10, October 1998, I live on a sea of scented bosoms.’
It is in three sections: Therapy, A Season in Hell and Autismus. This is a very literary book, referencing Frank Wedekind, Oscar Wilde, Sarah Kane, Henry Miller, Emile Zola and others along with artists Egon Schiele and George Grosz. Even in his wide reading the narrator has an original standpoint, talking of getting a ‘fix’ of literature and treating Fu Manchu and Dracula as characters as real as their authors or as people he sees around him.
 The conflict here is between his desperate need for intimacy and his inability to bring it about, ‘People who have no relationships are haunted by sexual desires,’ he says, ‘I am so strong against all the attacks I must face but totally defenceless against friendship.’
 This is not to say there is no character development. In later years, with the decline of ‘the glory that was Soho’ the narrator begins to examine his autism (which to my unprofessional eye looks like high-performing Asperger’s syndrome, at the ‘soft’ end of the autism spectrum).
There is a relationship referred to here, but it is filtered through the prism of his single mindedness, ‘The moment I met the most desirable Queen of my life was the moment I completed my journey to monsterhood.’ Not many interactions are recounted, but what there are seem like those of a Samuel Beckett play, ‘whenever I forget I am not a real person and try to engage with people, it ends in disaster.’
 There is also a sense as the pages turn that this is near the end of something – the end of the century was when porn cinemas were being closed because of the widespread use of videos and then DVDs; conventional strip clubs were closing as old-fashioned entertainment; the redevelopment of Soho because of high real estate prices meant prostitutes could no longer afford the rents of their apartments. The narrator does not concern himself with such financial or technical explanations, all that matters is their effect on him. It is what he calls ‘The Demolished Eroticism.’
 I started looking at his book and noted clues as to the author’s identity – he lives somewhere, near but not in London, he has a job but we don’t know what it is, he has had a girlfriend, he comments on having been bullied....then I stopped playing detective and let the flow take me. This is not a conventional book, but it is the most original book I have read all year. Its virtue is its moral courage to say the unsayable, its exalted language and its view into a world which is repellent, fascinating and in the end, revealing.
JAD ADAMS @JadAdamsAuthor

Friday, 23 November 2018

Published my FOURTH book The Morning After (2005)

Published my FOURTH book, The Morning After (2005), pleased with that. Working faster than ever on the fifth book CASANOVA (2006-7) now.

Wednesday, 21 November 2018

Woke up this morning after brief little dream where I bumped into --

Woke up this morning after brief little dream where I bumped into --. In white summer dress coming in to the paper shop up by -- garage, I said morning madam, she smiled vaguely hello, then I went out and got in my old dark blue Rolls Royce.
I DO love this body of work I am creating, with my paperback books. Charting my journey through life in such detail.

Monday, 19 November 2018

Now so longing to be back in Ibis Brussels and L'Orient Express now I know it is so close to Le Coin where I want to go REGULARLY

Now so longing to be back in Ibis Brussels and L'Orient Express, now I know it is so close to Le Coin where I want to go REGULARLY. That has brought Brussels back to life. A possible new Brussels Golden Age beckons !
Snap booking from 27 November to Tuesday 12th Dececember currently. But I need to be paying MORE off my credit cards, not travelling again.

Saturday, 17 November 2018

Wake up mortified again because of money spent in -- again yesterday, another £100 for sure. -- put everybody in the shade

Wake up mortified again because of money spent in -- again yesterday, another £100 for sure. -- put everybody in the shade, I was thinking it still is possible something WILL happen between us after all, because that body is magnificent. And she was really happy and friendly again.
But oh Christ the music sounded good yesterday. So many great pounding tracks, music turned up loud the way it's meant to be, no bar staff keep turning it down all the time. Great music system. Starboy sounded more magnificent than ever. The Hills. And it was a funny day of eye contacts. Coming up  -- steps, a BEAUTIFUL little petite black-haired girl in black coat standing there looking me in the eyes fixedly, so I looked back fixedly and we looked into each other's eyes for a few moments before with a little smile she demurely lowered her eyes to floor, I looked back again and she still had her eyes lowered with that little smile. We both had to wait ages, then she gave up and walked off. I think maybe she was worried I was waiting just so I could follow her onto bus?
Then -- was very very funny. All three collections she just took pound with a quiet thank you and eyes down, no eye contact or kisses, then danced to Noah Cyrus Again, I want to be Your Lover. And something else similar. One time I turned and looked back over my shoulder and she was on that seat looking at me fixedly. And again a bit later. Singing along as Starboy was playing between dances, she took to stage and put Starboy on again as if she had seen that I really liked it. Then she sat sadly on that seat at end of shift waiting for --. But I felt something between us, that memory of last time when I asked did she have a boyfriend and she laughed yes, no really, really I do. Perhaps now she is regretting it ? Or just wondering wondering if she is doing the right thing. I feel she is attracted to me, that is why she never said a word just collected with eyes down.
Then at end I looked up two or three times and found S-- looking me in the eyes. She has lost weight, I hardly noticed her tits, almost thought she has had them reduced, but I think it is just lost weight, but her arse should too be huge and now it is just normal. Huge bottom V-- also looked sad, like she is not making any money. Really sad but beautiful face. But like I say once again -- just left everybody else in the shade.
I remember feeling a HUNGER for it though. Every time I come back from Europe I feel a hunger to see fully naked strippers. I DID enjoy it and the music as I say sounded fantastic. And that incredible electricity I felt between me and --.
I felt ATTRACTIVE yesterday. Those incredible eye contacts from -- station girl, -- then S--.


Thursday, 15 November 2018

What was the sexiest moment of my holiday? Those last two days taking the beer up to my room and w**king in front of my computer WHILE drinking

What was the sexiest moment of my holiday? Those last two days taking the beer up to my room and w**king in front of my computer WHILE drinking. How much sexier that felt! Immediate full powerful erections! Felt fantastic. In Cine Paris watching My Daughter-in-Law is a Whore was not bad either.

Nice to be back home. 418am Wednesday morning now. Not been to sleep yet

Nice to be back home. 418am Wednesday morning now. Not been to sleep yet.
Best memories were discovering Le Coin is better than Fifth and it is the Ibis I need to stay at next time; discovering it is better to drink my beer in my room while watching pornography to keep me in the mood, that is SO sexy. Like the old days in the Berlin Plaza and Dorint bedrooms. I realise I need to stay out of the Max lounge AND the Dorint bar. Go straight out from room with Priapic rod in my trousers, in Brussels and Vienna. When I can see a massive knockered girl like S-- completely naked, opening her pussy for me as well, why would I waste 10 euros on a topless only place like Empire? Good decision.

Wednesday, 14 November 2018

410PM Pretty sure I’m the only customer in the Dome and have been for quite a long time

410PM Pretty sure I’m the only customer in the Dome, and have been for quite a long time. Mystifies me a bit—it’s a lovely place to hang out in, and chill, drink, smoke, chat, whatever. If it called itself a Caffe Nero or Starbucks or Costa it would probably be packed all the time. Berenice again I’m Proud—Brussels 2001. Ur. Joe Dassin again; I really need to put more songs on my phone but I’m very selective, and there are very few songs that mean a lot to me at any particular time. 414 and my train leaves 556; surely time for one more? OK 415 I’m going for my 6th. So well done, I’ve avoided Le Coin, AND Brussels Grill (as well as Cine Paris and Fifth), and the shoe shops as well. So finally we are here! Adieu Bruxelles! Adieu mes jeunes filles! Bonjour tristesse! Bonjour darkness my old friend!


350PM I start my fifth—final—Stella in the Dome. Oh but now the maitre d’ is killing me; replaced the empty peanut bowl with little slices of sausage with dabs of mustard!

350PM I start my fifth—final—Stella in the Dome. Oh but now the maitre d’ is killing me; replaced the empty peanut bowl with little slices of sausage with dabs of mustard! Gorgeous! Oh and now he’s given me chunks of cheddar cheese with pepper on top! You are killing me, monsieur! But it certainly precludes the need for Brussels Grill! I have to force myself not to finish these all in one go even before I’ve started my beer, otherwise he will just bring more and as my mother always tells me, cheese is the most fattening thing you can eat. So no, let me slow down on the cheese and stick to the beer. Mavi Phoenix Longtime again, tempting me back to Vienna in the New Year. Like a Pill again. My ur-song. Kylie Can’t Get You Out of my Head (Brussels, circa 2001 or 1999? Even more of an ur-song, if so).

The Cine ABC and California Peep Show & videokabins next to it both STILL horrible empty shells

The Cine ABC and California Peep Show & videokabins next to it both STILL horrible empty shells; the people campaign to close down these disgusting sleazy places, but what takes their place? Nothing. Complete lack of any life at all, or in Stuttgarter Platz’s case just more bars, more drinking establishments. So much better? More life, more life-force, more passion, in the naughty places. 345PM. My Eurostar departs in 2 hours 11 minutes. And let’s hope I’ll be on it. Pink Like a Pill (Brussels, 2001, proper proper old school). One of my ur-songs.

Rue des Bouchers

Arnold Schoenberg (so redolent of Vienna. Viennese eroticism). I tell myself every time but I never learn—no point booking a late Eurostar on my homeward day

Arnold Schoenberg (so redolent of Vienna. Viennese eroticism). I tell myself every time but I never learn—no point booking a late Eurostar on my homeward day. I always do it thinking at least it gives me a last few hours to enjoy the naughty jollies of Brussels, but in reality I NEVER want to do ANYTHING on my homeward day so it is just a complete waste of time, energy and money. Please, NEVER do it again. A lunchtime Eurostar is perfect, so I can at least lie in and stay in my hotel room till 11am checkout time, 1pm-2pm at latest, but no more 556PM homeward trains! Another lesson I have to keep re-learning. Joe Dassin again. 335PM. Getting there. And all my life-force still intact pretty much (i.e. all my sperm). There’s been a few girls passing the Dome while casting their lascivious eyes in at me, trying to tempt me to give up some of my life-force, but no chance madames! No chance, mes jeunes filles! Me too strong! I’m too bloody strong!

Fourth Stella in the Dome

Fourth Stella in the Dome. 316PM. After this, and one more, I reckon that will be 415PMish and perfect time to get my taxi to Midi, and get TWO lovely Panos baguettes for a change (if they’re still open). The thing about the Ibis Gare du Midi coming back into play is it also brings back into play L’Orient Express, and the lovely little chicken (etc) LATE NIGHT restaurant next to it. And a constant all day source of food from the station (and NEWSPAPERS!). Yes, suddenly the thought of staying in the Ibis again has excited me about a quick return to Brussels (which I cannot possibly afford, but never mind). Just to feel the excitement, the eagerness, is a thrill in itself. Anticipation is everything. Anticipation is the fuel that keeps me going. If I really feel like it, I could forego one more Stella here in the Dome and walk to Fifth for a last 3 euro Maes; just to check the place out one last time. Little enthusiasm for it though. Does anybody record their travels, and their imminent homeward journey, as meticulously minute by minute as me? No, and yes why bother? I can almost hear my ex-wife saying. Always a great force for bringing me back down to earth and bursting my little bubbles. Bless her.
323. I wonder if I will be treated to a sexy barmaid here at the Dome, or does the lunchtime boss go all the way in these cost-cutting days? Would be lovely to see Aisha again as a final treat before I go home. Still a source of many erections/fantasies for me, even when back home in London. Rohff Qui est l’exemple (Brussels c.2003. FIRST Golden Age! Proper old school).

Rue des Bouchers

Third Stella here in the Dome

Third Stella here in the Dome. 242PM. Pink Last to Know (Berlin circa 2003-4). Brollies are up but blowing inside out; no visible sign of rain, but a bitter Arctic wind (I can imagine). What little rain there is, equally cold (I am sure). My visit to Le Coin on my fourth day has reinvigorated my faith in Brussels the way the previous 3 days’ visits to Fifth had rather killed it;; so why then on my leaving day don’t I return to Le Coin and “do” something? No, I never want to have sexual relations on my home day; it completely knocks me out and leaves me weepy and emotional. Wanda Bussi Baby (Vienna c.2016). Amy MacDonald Run (recent). Mando Diao Sweet Wet Dreams (recent). Nazar/Falco Zwischen Zeit und Raum (Vienna c.2016). Mavi Phoenix Longtime (recent). I don’t want to do anything sexual on my home day, one reason I sub-consciously really recoil from it is because it is your life-force isn’t it. I need all my life-force just to get me through the long, tiring journey home with my heavy bag. Avoid sex, and avoid any heavy food too. Drink at least gives me that high that gives wind beneath my wings for a while.

I never realised Brussels has stolpersteine as well

Zoe Adieu. Rihanna Love on the Brain. Again reward for doing something DIFFERENT?

Zoe Adieu. Rihanna Love on the Brain. Again, reward for doing something DIFFERENT? By taking that long walk down to Le Coin yesterday I have revolutionised my future trips to Brussels (perhaps). The old Gare du Midi nexus suddenly regains pre-eminence over the Max Nexus. More than anything I look forward to getting back to the good honest butt-naked knickerless strippers of London. Topless only strip clubs are an abomination, and I take them as a personal insult. Joe Dassin Et Si tu n’existais pas. That song I only heard in Empire’s topless only strip club here in Brussels.

So 216PM and reluctantly back in the Café du Dome

So 216PM and reluctantly back in the Café du Dome. I would much rather have stayed in my room, but to pay for the whole night would have cost 79 euros! So now I try to kill time in the Dome, then perhaps Brussels Grill. Feel no desire for another Cine Paris or Fifth. Brussels has suddenly turned bitterly cold; feels more like snow than rain. Still, it is a pleasure to be sitting here in the Dome, listening to Berenice’s I’m Proud on my earphones, glass of Stella in my hands. Now Alcazar Crying at the Discotheque. Maitre Gims Bella. Memories of this holiday? Discovering Le Coin girls for the first time “came to life” for me and therefore that I really, really look forward to staying once more at my OLD favourite hotel, the Ibis Gare du Midi. That discovery will make it more likely I will return to Brussels sooner than I would otherwise have done. Junior Senior Move Your Feet.



It is only 1152 now. I really have until 1PM to make my mind up

It is only 1152 now. I really have until 1PM to make my mind up—at that point I need to go out and buy those new shoes, if I want to, and also get more cash from the ATM if I really want to return to Le Coin before going home. That means 30 euros to stay till 2PM, taxi fare back to Midi, PLUS locker charge to store my bag at Midi while I pop back to Le Coin, perhaps.

The wonderful eroticism of Le Coin yesterday makes me want to come back for an extended stay in Brussels again—basing myself down by the Gare du Midi this time

The wonderful eroticism of Le Coin yesterday makes me want to come back for an extended stay in Brussels again—basing myself down by the Gare du Midi this time. I was unkind for saying it had the atmosphere of a greasy spoon café. It has got lots of vases of flowers, lots of PAINTINGS of vases of flowers on the walls, a wonderful dark brown painting of some river surrounded by ferns and palm trees, and lovely dark brown wood panels, and unusual kind of trestle-type lamps suspended from the ceiling, all of which gives it a rather Bavarian, Munich feel; a real Carmina Burana feel! I’m talking myself into going back again before I leave, aren’t I! I suppose if I just went in for the last hour and just had a few beers, that would not be that expensive!

Another wonderfully varied & eclectic set of films at Cine Paris





Five Days in Brussels with Charles Baudelaire – by Georges Barral

I didn’t eat much yesterday—just the 530PM Brussels Grill steak all day?

I didn’t eat much yesterday—just the 530PM Brussels Grill steak all day? Well, if I’m only permitted to stay in my room till 2PM, let me go back upstairs and enjoy its comfort for every minute until then. Time to depart the Hotel Max lounge. When I’ve finished my second beer. When I sat down for my Brussels Grill steak last night I thought I’m going to have this steak then go over the road and take a Domino’s Pizza back to the hotel with me. Well, long before I even finished the steak I was struggling. So I will try to avoid it today—don’t want to be in that state and having to come back to the hotel and start the long journey home like that.


Well I was going to pay for the room for another night just so I could stay in it until I left the hotel at 430PM but it is 79 euros tonight!

Well, I was going to pay for the room for another night, just so I could stay in it until I left the hotel at 430PM but it is 79 euros tonight! Therefore I had to make do with 30 euros to stay till 2PM only. Now I have the problem what the hell am I going to do between 2 and 5? Yes, I suppose I could decamp to the Café du Dome again at 2, and maybe even endure the Cine Paris again, though it will still be the same films as I’ve been seeing since I got here I expect. Really feel no desire to return to Fifth Avenue which says a lot; I DO feel a desire to return to Le Coin but do not want the expense. I would not be able to resist the temptation and I would really rather not take out another 100-200 euros; not knowing if I have a job to go back to or not especially. 1130 on my second beer already. I’ll have to pour myself on to Eurostar at 556. I may make the effort to go look for some new shoes before 2. So do I go to Vienna in the New Year—which with my No Fly rule means staying nights in Brussels and Munich along the way? No. Unthinkable. We will see.

Drug Opera

Pleased on this trip that finally I did a couple of my pilgrimages

Pleased on this trip that finally I did a couple of my pilgrimages—to the site of “the most famous ball in history” that Wellington attended on the eve of the Battle of Waterloo, and as mentioned to the site of Baudelaire’s Hotel du Grand Miroir. Pleased to discover on my last day that Le COIN is where I should be going and that the Ibis Gare du Midi is the nexus where I should be basing myself (perhaps).

Site of the Hotel where Verlaine shot Rimbaud the first time


I enjoyed my brief stay back in the Café du Dome yesterday—just for 2 Stellas

I enjoyed my brief stay back in the Café du Dome yesterday—just for 2 Stellas, then after my first Cine Paris session (with several more beers, which is when the manager first started to get funny with me) I cut down Rue St Michel, across the Place des Martyrs, along the Rue d’Argent (I LOVE Brussels street names), up Wolvengracht, up Stormstraat and there once again to the Rue de la Montagne, where Baudelaire stayed in his famous Hôtel du Grand Miroir. This time I walked down the whole road but still could not see the plaque. Anyway I must surely have passed the spot where the Miroir once stood {yes, the Maison du Notaires], and that is good enough for me. Then on the spur of the moment I decided I WOULD press on all the way down to Le Coin—so down Zuidstraat I went, through the Place Rouppe—where Verlaine attacked Rimbaud for a second time! They had patched things up after Verlaine had shot Rimbaud the first time, and now Verlaine was accompanying Rimbaud down to Gare du Midi to bid him farewell as he left for Paris, when Verlaine’s jealousy got the better of him again and he attacked Rimbaud again! It was only after this second attack that Verlaine was arrested, convicted and sent to prison. I carried on to Le Coin and had that extraordinary surprise of so many gorgeous big, big curvy women.


Grand Place


 





After my Brussels Grill steak I waddled back to the hotel and it was now just after 6 and I thought I would force myself back to Cine Paris

After my Brussels Grill steak, I waddled back to the hotel and it was now just after 6, and I thought I would force myself back to Cine Paris. The same good film as earlier My Daughter in Law is a Whore (followed by Jessie, PA which I kept missing); upstairs film looked rubbish. I forced myself to have one more can of Jupiler but struggled to finish it, so knew it was time to call it a day. The cinema manager was becoming very surly with me by now as well, refusing to give me change when I bought my beer. Obviously, I couldn’t understand what his objection was as he steadfastly refuses to speak the Queen’s English so I just let it go. And now it is 11am I have to check out, and, alas, go home. My Eurostar home is not till 556! I will probably take up the 30 euros offer of a late check out till 2—the upper limit without paying for a whole extra night. I don’t want to go back to Coin now—I don’t like to go too crazy and get too drunk before my homeward journey, so I try to stay within my limits. I only have 50 euros left as well!


“Le Cygne”(the Swan). Grand Place. It was in this building, a restaurant, that Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels wrote the “Communist Party Manifesto” in 1847


Well the world’s been turned on its head—Le Coin was better than Fifth Avenue

Well, the world’s been turned on its head—Le Coin was better than Fifth Avenue. Four gorgeous voluptuous girls—I would have liked all four of them but by now I was too drunk and I only had 70 euros left—the exact cut 20 to house, and 50 to girl. One more beer and that was it, too late. Suddenly I think in future I will stay in the IBIS again, rather than the Max!

Rue de la Montagne where Baudelaire lived in Brussels




Well it’s finally 538 when I get back to Brussels Grill (Rogier)

Well, it’s finally 538 when I get back to Brussels Grill (Rogier). Gutted that Brussels Grill Brouckère was closed! Tuesday? What the hell? I was so looking forward to the Brouckère one.



I honestly think I will always go to the Brouckère Brussels Grill if I can; it is so much quieter and more peaceful in that one

I honestly think I will always go to the Brouckère Brussels Grill if I can; it is so much quieter and more peaceful in that one. And they gave me a MIXED salad rather just a pile of boring lettuce. I guess that’s random. Another thing I’ve learned on this trip is always buy a beer as soon as I arrive in Cine Paris—to FORCE myself to stay for at least a while. Only then do the films have any chance of working their effect on me. You have to sink into a porn cinema; I find its immediate impact is always repellent otherwise.
One more thing I notice on this trip is the incredible amount of bicycles on the roads; very noticeable—Brussels’ traffic-calming measures really working. AND that reminds me, the Rogier traffic junction MADNESS has really been cured. There is now complete separation of East-West and North-South crossing traffic, when before it all fought it out in a mad battle every second, 4, 5, 6 directions of traffic all fighting to get through the same central crossing point. They have cured the madness, finally!

Four beers in the hotel and two Stellas here in the Dome then off to Cine Paris I think

Four beers in the hotel, and two Stellas here in the Dome, then off to Cine Paris I think. Then after that perhaps a return to Rue de la Montagne; and maybe, maybe, the LONG walk down to Le Coin. Just to do something different, random, shake things up again. I can’t just go and sit boredly in the afternoon Fifth Avenue again.

Nice to be back in my Dome window seat; even a little splattering of rain out there to reward me as if to tell me “Yes, NOW you are back in the right process”

Nice to be back in my Dome window seat; even a little splattering of rain out there to reward me, as if to tell me “Yes, NOW you are back in the right process”. One’s erotic fetish is a process—a checklist of activities that lead one closer and closer inexorably to orgasm; and I’ve disrupted that for a long time now by drinking in the Max lounge just staring out the window; I made this mistake in the Dorint Vienna as well. I should always drink IN MY ROOM, with porn on my computer and music on the TV (having first established there are no sexy barmaids in the hotel bar, of course). To keep myself permanently on that priapic edge. Permanently on the verge of orgasm. So then when you do go out you feel as high as a kite and it makes everything you do feel so much more exciting.

I thought I’ve got to try something different to shake myself out of this torpor—so I took my fourth can of Jupiler back to my room and drank it while enjoying some porn on my computer

I thought I’ve got to try something different, to shake myself out of this torpor—so I took my fourth can of Jupiler back to my room and drank it while enjoying some porn on my computer. ALSO with the music channel on my TV. EVERYTHING suddenly felt more exciting. Porn on its own is boring; drink on its own is boring; by combining the two I felt so much more turned on; AND even the boring music channels sounded better. Everything suddenly started feeling better. I suddenly started to remember something of the old excitement I used to feel when staying in my Vienna or Berlin hotel rooms. Rock Star—Post Malone—the first good song of the trip. Now I enjoy my first Stella back in the Café du Dome and am rewarded by one of the pretty barmaids I remember from long, long ago. Not wonderfully voluptuous Aisha, sadly, but one of the pretty, slim, dark-haired Moroccans. So I’ve learned something today, or reminded myself of something stupidly forgotten—watching porn is no good on its own; drinking is no good on its own; I have to do both together, and if there is music playing as well even better. Why strip pubs are so addictive, of course.

The usual two rubbish music channels on my hotel TV—Cstar (French) and MTV VIVA (German). Not one single memorable song to take home with me

The usual two rubbish music channels on my hotel TV—Cstar (French) and MTV VIVA (German). Not one single memorable song to take home with me. Yes, a very low key trip to Brussels—fourth in a row. I may even walk back up to Rue d’Aerschot to check out the window girls again. Or down to Le Coin. 1131 Third beer. When I think of -- or the black duty manageress I always get strong erections, without fail; thought of them does turn me on every time. Not seen the black one for a long, long time. Feel like going to one of those hostess bars tonight—just to see some different floozies; not to do anything with them; far too expensive; maybe try Bellagio in Rue des Cendres (formerly Relay 7, formerly numerous other names), pretty much on the site of the hospital Baudelaire was taken to after his life-ending collapse, or that one just down from Cine Paris, Club l’Intime. Just to do something different on my last night. That is if I can wake up in time of course.

Tuesday, 13 November 2018

It has been four months since I was last in Brussels and in that time alone I have lost Gascogne, the little chip shop next to my hotel, the wonderful mural over the Cine Paris stairs, and Jean Rollin films from my hotel TV

It has been four months since I was last in Brussels and in that time alone I have lost Gascogne, the little chip shop next to my hotel, the wonderful mural over the Cine Paris stairs, and Jean Rollin films from my hotel TV. 1058 My first beer of the day. After my long, lazy session in Fifth, I brought my Domino’s Pizza back then passed out to sleep, and did not wake till 1AM. A new big voluptuous young girl in Fifth Avenue and I thought yes! This is it! The is the new girl to spark this trip to life! Bella—from Goiania inevitably. Why is it that out of all the Brazilian strippers and floozies I have met in my life probably 50% of them come from Goiania? A relatively small city in Brazil yet they supply a disproportionately high number of girls who work in these naughty places. “Because we are the most beautiful women in Brazil!” one Goiania girl told me. That may well be true but cannot be the whole story I think. It was Bella’s first day in Fifth Avenue apparently, or second; after four months working in some --------- retail shop. Maybe I would have been her first customer! But after about 2 minutes of sitting with me with the drink I bought for her & her two friends, she got up and abandoned me; as I did not want to go to the room immediately, even though I was quite clearly interested in her, which I demonstrated to her. A more experienced girl might have stayed and kept trying for a while longer as I am sure I would have gone with her in the end. Anyway, a beautiful girl, a good addition, but the way she got up and left me made me think she would not be the most warm and generous person in the bedroom which would discourage me completely in future. Not a stellar line up in Fifth right now, but as always I need to go there in the evening time to see if any big hitters turn up later; I limit my chances if I leave by 5PM every day.


So I got to Rue de la Montagne yesterday but now I think I made a mistake—I didn’t find the exact address that was site of the Grand Miroir

So I got to Rue de la Montagne yesterday but now I think I made a mistake—I didn’t find the exact address that was site of the Grand Miroir; I saw 31-27 and thought No.28 must have been here, and opposite is No.50; but now I think it must be further down. There is a plaque on the wall apparently; I didn’t see that. So let me try again today. Maybe start in Café du Dome for old times’ sake; maybe even down to Le Coin but that is a LONG walk. Definitely back to Cine Paris today and maybe even look for some shoes. A bright blue-skied Monday morning—I think I’ve seen the last of the rain unfortunately.


After my lovely Brussels Grill steak in Fifth Avenue at 322PM

After my lovely Brussels Grill steak, in Fifth Avenue at 322PM. Sleepy. Ready for bed. Two girls visible only. Maybe eight men. The demand is there; the supply is low. Let me drink enough and quickly enough that I feel the urgent need for a Domino’s Pizza before bed, to go with the steak I just had. These are my real desires on holiday these days. Any really really sexy floozies I am lucky to see will just get in the way of my eating.

Buster Keaton in a Brussels Grill steakhouse—so appropriate for mad surrealistic Brussels

Buster Keaton in a Brussels Grill steakhouse—so appropriate for mad, surrealistic Brussels. Loving this Keaton film—though I must admit some of what I’m seeing does not make much sense. Ah, let me force myself to Fifth Avenue, then back via Domino’s Pizza or McDonald’s to sleep the day away. Finally I have done it—walked the 50 yards from my hotel to the corner of Rue de la Blanchisserie and Cendres (Ashes) where the Duchess of Richmond staged the most famous ball in history—and the further 200 or 300 yards to the 28 Rue de la Montage site of Baudelaire’s Brussels home, the Hotel du Grand Miroir. Now let me drink some more, ogle a couple of floozies, then sleep.


Is this Brussels Grill at Brouckère really playing a Buster Keaton movie on their TV screens? And is my little blonde waitress really as cute as she first appeared?

Is this Brussels Grill at Brouckère really playing a Buster Keaton movie on their TV screens? And is my little blonde waitress really as cute as she first appeared? Yes, on both counts it seems. Reward for doing something a LITTLE bit different at least. This Brussels Grill has been refurbished since I was last here—the big chandelier has gone, and the kitchen is at the back rather than down the side, which feels more appropriate. I’ve gone a little bit mad this time and had a small beer with my steak—increasing my bill (with tip) from 18 to 21. Anyway the blonde is so cute, no problem. As always, this Brussels Grill is SO much quieter than the Rogier one. And—and—and! I get the mixed salad this time! Red onion, lettuce AND tomato! What a difference it makes. Glad I came here.


So many times on the bus or the train you see an incredibly beautiful girl you would like to f--k but coming in to the strip club or the brothel you see no one you like AT ALL

So many times on the bus or the train you see an incredibly beautiful girl you would like to f--k, but coming in to the strip club or the brothel you see no one you like AT ALL; this is where gamers like Mr Francis win over me. However, there are exceptions. You always occasionally find a jewel in the strip clubs of London or the floozie bars of Brussels or Vienna at least. Adelina, Lucy, Andrea, Diane, legends of my life. I love the OPEN sexuality of prostitutes and strippers. The completely OUT THERE sexuality of them. I love this world, this broken world maybe, but I love this world. I have no interest in teasing, coaxing their sexuality out of them (or ability); I want it all out there, in the open, full frontal, primal, BESTIAL.

My erections on this trip and my ejaculations have been forced and feeble. I yearn for a true unbidden unexpected erection, unexpected arousal and true joyous ejaculation

My erections on this trip, and my ejaculations, have been forced and feeble. I yearn for a true unbidden, unexpected erection, unexpected arousal, and true joyous ejaculation. If these are my last words on earth, god help me. I love my MOTHER. Risible erections, risible ejaculations. The story of four consecutive holidays now. I yearn for Vienna, but the last great night of my life was when I rushed BACK from Vienna to spend a last night in Brussels. So there is no easy answer. Eros comes when you least expect it so I sit waiting for what I least expect. In my experience, what really unlocks Eros is the LAST MINUTE changes of plan. On the trip back from Vienna for my last night in Frankfurt, I at the last minute decided to carry on to Brussels, and What. A. Night. You have to make last minute changes to unlock Eros, this is the lesson of my life.