those pigs of men I suppose never dream of
washing it from I years end to the other the most of them only thats
what gives the women the moustaches Im sure itll be grand if I can only
get in with a handsome young poet at my age Ill throw them the 1st thing
in the morning till I see if the wishcard comes out or Ill try pairing
the lady herself and see if he comes out Ill read and study all I can
find or learn a bit off by heart if I knew who he likes so he wont think
me stupid if he thinks all women are the same and I can teach him the
other part Ill make him feel all over him till he half faints under
me then hell write about me lover and mistress publicly too with our 2
photographs in all the papers when he becomes famous O but then what am
I going to do about him though

no thats no way for him has he no manners nor no refinement nor no
nothing in his nature slapping us behind like that on my bottom because
I didnt call him Hugh the ignoramus that doesnt know poetry from a
cabbage thats what you get for not keeping them in their proper place
pulling off his shoes and trousers there on the chair before me so
barefaced without even asking permission and standing out that vulgar
way in the half of a shirt they wear to be admired like a priest or a
butcher or those old hypocrites in the time of Julius Caesar of course
hes right enough in his way to pass the time as a joke sure you might
as well be in bed with what with a lion God Im sure hed have something
better to say for himself an old Lion would O well I suppose its because
they were so plump and tempting in my short petticoat he couldnt resist
they excite myself sometimes its well for men all the amount of pleasure
they get off a womans body were so round and white for them always I
wished I was one myself for a change just to try with that thing they
have swelling up on you so hard and at the same time so soft when you
touch it my uncle John has a thing long I heard those cornerboys saying
passing the comer of Marrowbone lane my aunt Mary has a thing hairy
because it was dark and they knew a girl was passing it didnt make me
blush why should it either its only nature and he puts his thing long
into my aunt Marys hairy etcetera and turns out to be you put the handle
in a sweepingbrush men again all over they can pick and choose what they
please a married woman or a fast widow or a girl for their different
tastes like those houses round behind Irish street no but were