Monday 24th November 1665:
6am: Did rise a five that day to perchance to market to seek sweet fruits and potted anchovies for a soiree at my residence with Lord Sibbery, his lady and his two cozens, Emma and Elizabeth. Sweet bitches alright.
7am: Had an altercation with a rogue market trader, for he wanted in exchange for 2 guineas, a half fladgeon of mead and barley confectionary. Had to stand on the motherfuckers head so he could hear me properly.
9am: So to court, and a meeting with Rear Admiral Marchonbury. Oh, to hear of his wretched antics and roguerys. Popped a cap in his motherfucking knee for his cheeke.
11am: And so to home, whereupon I found that Cook had failed to prepare brunch in a timely fashion. Fat Ass Motherfucker did reeke of wines and ales. Dipped his fat head in boiling water to perchance.
1pm: Lord Sibbery arrived with his good lady and more importantly, his two young cozens who had titties to beat the motherfucking drum.
2pm: After lunch, Emma treated us to songs from her fair voice for our utmost entertainment. Elizabeth sat next to me and rested her hand on my breeches and therein my dick.
3pm: Lord Sibbery and his lady retired to the Study to purvey in Port and to eat of fruits. I joined Emma and Elizabeth in the Drawing Room to watch them sew of tapestries. Luckily they also smoke the brown owl without my barely asking.
3.05pm: Suddenly in comes Lord Sibbery, alight with anger and his face like a ruby red strawberry. The language was that matched of a commoner in the gutter and I did take offence.
3.10pm: Shoved my goddam flintlock in the motherfuckers mouth to stop him talking. To my surprise, the old man swathed in shock collapses to the ground. Lady Sibbery comes into the room and commences wailing like that of a possessed banshee. Had to slap the bitch to quiet her goddam mouth.
3.20pm: Whilst his lordship slept, I advised that he may want a short bathe in my moat to enlighten himself. Helped the motherfucker into the moat by thrwoing out of the window. Oh, to hear Lady Sibbery's continued wails and screeches like that of many a cursed creature. So I shot the bitch out of goddam principle.
3.30pm: Obviously Emma and Elizabeth were upset at this wretched behaviour however when they learnt that if hung with a G like me, they would be the richest bitches in Southwark, merriment soon began.
And so to bed..........
Diary of Samuel L Pepys
London, 1666. After a math of great tragedy being the Great Fire and the cursed blight that of the Great Plague, London of old still remaineth at its epicentre, and Samuel L Pepys diarised all events while toking some real mean Grade A shit......
