The Earldom Of Arran

Welcome to my home weary traveller. Ignore the border guard; he's been a bit funny ever since the floating teapot incident. Put down your bags and stay a while, I'll fix us a cup of tea. In the meantime allow my subjects to entertain you with their musings.

[earlofarran]

I fell down the stairs this morning. As I was falling down my long and magnificent marble stair case I smelled the smell of a moustache outside my kitchen window. After replacing my hat and clicking my left arm back into its socket I threw open the window to find this angry little man sulking beneath the windowsill. He was clutching a rather fine flag, a red one with a pretty little hammer and sickle in the top corner. I reached out my hand to him but the little bugger bit me, calling me "bourgeois" (which I always thought was a shade of brown). However when one of my servants came through to give me my copy of the Dandy the little man became very excited and told the fellow all sorts of marvellous stories about workers rising and equality. I found these stories quite hilarious, as did my dear servant, and we have put the little man in a box (much to his chagrin) so that if I should need a tale or several I can get him out. Also on an unrelated I have noticed an influx of hats with ear flaps, red clothing and general excitement amongst the servants in my kingdom. I even noticed a few of them have got these pretty little hammer and sickle patterns tattooed on their bodies. I must admit the fashion choices of the youth today confuse me, but who am I to judge?

[foolfool]

[earlofarran]

I cannot lie, this startled me when I came across it. I know one can buy a great many weird things these days (why just the other day I saw a product which resembled butter in all ways: taste, colour, scent and texture but was in actual fact not butter: I could not believe it!) however who would choose to bathe in someone's blood, even that of a countess? What a strange world we live in. I thought that time I bathed in goose blood was the height of fashion but evidently one can do better. Also does anyone out there know if the Countess has a daughter, or perhaps a younger sister? If so I'd love to send her a fax sometime.

[katharinerobinsonswanthomson]

Can’t WAIT to go back <3

[earlofarran]

If you needed proof that I am a mighty fine Earl; this intrepid explorer has found an island and named it after me. I will be heading over there soon to plant my flag upon its shores. I’ve never had an occasion to use a flag before, so I may just leave one of the village boys there with a placard: “this belongs to Arran"

[earlofarran]

I was walking round the grounds this morning (I had a new tweed jacket which needed airing) when I came across this little fellow lurking under a vegetable cart. After coaxing him out with a gum drop he proved to be a greatly likeable, if somewhat odd, creature. He called himself Samuel Davey (or something like that) and upon taking him to see my playroom I discovered he was a great lover of arts and crafts. He painted me a lovely picture of some melting timepieces which I have stuck on my fridge. I was hoping he’d paint me on the moon but it was lovely all the same. Alas upon my return to the playroom with a bowl of assorted cereals I found the window open and the creature gone. I do miss him so; if you do find him please place him an envelope and send him my way. I will of course be more than happy to pay the postage.

[howtotalktogirlsatparties]

[earlofarran]

The Earl of Wessex wore these at our last tea party. Even with a sizeable yogurt stain on them (those fromage frais are tricky fellows) they made him look rather dapper. I shall have to source myself a pair.

[earlofarran]

Wallace

As I walk down up and down the streets of my kingdom I spy many a beautiful woman. In my efforts to get these women to approach me (after all every good Earl needs a Countess) I have tried many things, ranging from my trademark slightly rapey grin to an awkward grunted compliment. Whilst these antics are perfectly good at attracting women in their own right they pale in comparison to Wallace. Wallace is my greatest wingman, fourth butler and closest friend. When he stands tall he towers over any man and his moustache is a thing to be feared. Despite the fact he often smells faintly of anchovies his magnificent tusks and fun loving nature are remarkably adept at attracting females. As walruses go he is definitely my favourite. I never have to wait long with Wallace before women are fawning over us. Just the other day I was perusing my favourite tea room for some fine bottomed ladies when Wallace, the joker, began to aggressively gore a small boy causing not one but two beautiful young mums to come rushing over and I totally would have sealed the deal and be eating apricots off their bosoms by midnight had I not had to politely explain to animal control that Wallace meant no harm to the boy, and if they tazered him again they’d be shot at dawn. So to all you confused casanovas, struggling suitors and perplexed pick up artists I can offer only one piece of advice: get yourself a walrus. You won’t regret it.

[earlofarran]

Starting a new blog feels a lot like owning a new home. On that note I shall hang this virtual picture above my virtual doorway in the hope that it brings me some good fortune. If you were curious as to who this fine lady is, it is Gabija, goddess of the hearth and fire in Lithuanian mythology which makes her as good a guardian as any for this little homestead. She's not on Facebook, but she might have Twitter should you want to contact her.