Likely's Whore-Box


Praise For Lord Likely

"A journal so exciting, I fear I soiled myself no less than fourteen times."

THE DAILY NEWS SHEET

"Utterly wonderful. Upon reading Lord Likely's diaries, I went out and set fire to a homeless wretch to celebrate."

THE LONDON LOOKER

"I ejaculated so hard, my library had to be closed off for an entire week."

LORD FISHSTICK'S NEWSPAPER

"Everyone should buy a copy of these diaries, then have sex with them."

THE ILLUSTRATED JOURNAL OF NEWS

"Hear ye, hear ye, Lord Likely is fucking ace!"

THE TOWN CRIER

Approved By Liberals

liberals

Advertisements & Announcements

  • adver_maid
  • advert_woman
  • advert_moustaches
  • The Crest of Lord Likely

    09 October 2011

    Likely vs Elemental

    AS A RICH, powerful, incredibly handsome and overwhelmingly male human being, I enjoy exclusive membership of London’s notorious ‘Bullion Club’ (motto: NIL PAUPERUM). ‘Tis a lovely, luxurious and opulent environment, where I can take time out from a busy day battering my man-servant (not a euphemism) or polishing my cane (a euphemism) and indulge in some raucous banter with my fellow millionaires, while lighting our fat cigars on unused bank-notes and mortgage deeds. Truly, it is like a home away from home to me, except with better service.

    It was a balmy autumnal afternoon, and I was enjoying a few drinks with the chaps at the club, while reminiscing about one of my many astonishing adventures.

    “And so there I was, surrounded by a dozen female pirates, with the captain demanding that I draw my weapon.” I paused, and thoughtfully swirled the whisky about in my glass, while simultaneously becoming faintly aware of some sort of dull, thudding noise emanating from the main hall down the corridor. “So, what else could I do, but drop my trousers…” Another pause. More noise. I pressed on with my story. “Needless to say, the entire crew were really quite amazed at the sight of my gargantuan…COCK IT!” I roared, unable to concentrate for the infernal racket nearby. “What in the name of Beelzebub’s blistering ball-bag is that unholy din?”

    “Oh, that? I think it’s the new chap,” replied one of my companions, Colonel Avery Mann-Phorrimself. “He joined the club recently, don’t you know? Believe he’s some sort of singer, rather popular in the music halls.”

    I pulled a face. “Ugh. An entertainer, eh? Heavens, they’ll let any old riff-raff in here these days,” I grimaced, rising up out of my seat. “Well, I simply am not standing for it any more!”

    “Yes you are, old bean, you’re standing right now!” the Colonel pointed out. I chose to ignore his entirely accurate observation, however, and made my way towards the main hall to give this bounder a piece of my mind; specifically the piece that said SHUT UP OR I SHALL PLANT MY FOOT FIRMLY IN YOUR BALLBAG.

    As I advanced nearer the main hall, the cacophony grew louder, sounding very much like a man yelling at a dustbin that was being kicked down some stairs. I nodded sadly. If this was modern music, then I’d rather have rusty needles thrust into my ears.

    “WHAT IN THE NAME OF GREEK BUGGERY IS GOING ON IN HERE?” I bellowed into the room, as I flung open the doors in a most dramatic (and rather impressive) manner.

    Alas, no-one could hear me above the tumultuous caterwauling that was coming from a rather scruffy-looking oik in a shabby safari suit and pith helmet, who was prancing about at the back of the hall singing (and I use the word in the loosest and wrongest sense possible) a dirgesome ditty entitled ‘Cup of Brown Joy’ to a group of rapt onlookers:

    Once the performance had finished, and the (quite undeserved) applause had subsided, the only sound that could be heard in the hall was my slow clapping.

    “Oh, bravo, sir. BRAVO,” I said, sarcasm not merely dripping from my voice, but positively gushing forth in a sarcastic waterfall. “I have not seen such a diverting show since I last visited the zoological gardens.”

    The singer – let us call him that for want of a better and much more apt word – smiled. “Ah, you must be Lord Likely. I have heard much about you.”

    “I wish I could say I had heard anything about you at all, Mister?…”

    “Professor. Professor Elemental, at your service,” said the man, doffing his ludicrous-looking pith helmet in greeting.

    “And what precisely are you a professor of, professor?” I enquired. “Perhaps you have a doctorate in Dressing Up Like A Giant Breast And Dancing About The Place As If Undergoing Electrolysis?”

    A shocked gasp rose from the assembled crowd. Elemental simply smiled again. ” I sir, am professor of the potent punchline and powerful, punchy pugilism.” He paused thoughtfully. “And alliteration. But what are you lord of sir? Have you a title and no purpose? Like an owl with no beak; very decorative but essentially useless.”

    More gasps from the crowd, as a dozen heads swivelled around in my direction, waiting for my riposte.

    “I am going to ruddy bash your teeth down your scrawny throat,” I rejoined. Possibly not the wittiest of retorts, but by golly I had an overwhelming urge to batter this arse-pipe.

    The crowd dutifully parted as I made my way toward the oaf, the smell of combat gleefully filling their nostrils.

    “Oh, so it is a scrap you want, eh?” Elemental said, lighting his pipe. “Well, in that case I shall need to don my fighting trousers!”

    “Fighting trousers?”

    FIGHTING TROUSERS!” affirmed the professor, and then the bounder burst into song again:

    “Well, sir,” I said, removing my topper. “In that case, allow me to put on my ‘pummelling hat’.”

    “I’d put up your dukes, if I were you, sir!” said Elemental, circling me with his fists raised.

    “Oh, you’d better be ready, sir, for I shall bring forth the pain!”

    But as we squared up to each other, our duel was brought to a standstill by a voice out from the doorway. And that voice said the following words:

    “Nobody move! I have a gun!”

    The voice belonged to a rather dishevelled looking chap, who was indeed brandishing a pistol which he held with shaking hands. His eyes looked wild and frantic, like those of a rabid dog.

    “Everybody put your hands up! And no funny business!” the man shrieked loudly.

    “I think he must have heard your act,” I whispered to Elemental, as everybody raised their arms, filling the room with a forest of self-preservation.

    “Well, well, well,” sneered the man, rubbing his grubby chin in contemplation, with an equally grubby hand. “Look what we ‘ave ‘ere. A room full of well-to-do gents, with wallets just ripe for pinchin’, I reckon! Yes, yes, I could make a pretty packet robbin’ this room! Heh-heh!”

    And so the fiend began walking through the crowd, prodding people with his gun and demanding they empty their valuables into his grubby sack. I was practically shaking with rage.

    “Don’t worry, your lordship,” whispered Elemental. “As well as being a most excellent musician, I am also an explorer and an inventor. I do believe I have the perfect contraption with which to disarm this scoundrel and…no, wait. I’m wearing my fighting trousers. The device is in my incapacitating felons trousers. Confound it!”

    I rolled my eyes. “Well, luckily, as an aristocratic adventurer and gentle-man of action, I have formulated a plan to apprehend this swine. All I need to do is to pretend I am going for my wallet, and then swiftly deploy a quick judo chop to the blighter’s gun-hand, and then -”

    But before I could reveal the full splendour of my amazing plan, there was a loud screeching noise and some unidentified creature dashed forth from the back of the hall. On closer inspection, the creature appeared to be an orangutan in a tuxedo, and I watched with amazement as the beast leapt onto the robber, and began clawing at the criminal’s countenance whilst shrieking wildly.

    “What the -?” I began.

    “Ah-ha!” beamed Elemental. “That is Geoffrey, my monkey butler! As punctual as ever – remarkably good time-keeping for an ape, you know.”

    “You have a monkey for a butler?” I said, somewhat surprised.

    “Absolutely!” grinned Elemental, proudly.

    “That is rather impressive, I have to admit,” I admitted. “And you mentioned that you are an explorer and an inventor, too?”

    “Indeed I am,” the professor nodded. “I have had quite some adventures, let me tell you!”

    “As have I,” I said. “You know, there is a possibility that I may have misjudged you, Elemental. I’m willing to take back at least two-thirds of the things I said about you.”

    “Likewise, your lordship,” beamed the professor, holding out a hand. “I like a fellow who’s not afraid to step up and get scrapping if needs must.”

    “Perhaps we should adjourn to the lounge for a few brandies, eh, and share a few tales?” I smiled, shaking Elemental firmly by the hand.

    “Splendid!”, said Elemental.

    “Splendid!” said I.

    SPLENDID!“, we said in unison.

    - Lord Likely.

    For more from Professor Elemental, why not visit his webbed-site HITHER, where one may listen to more of his ditties, purchase his recordings and keep up-to-date with his latest exploits.

    This tale is based on actual, real-life exchanges betwixt professor and lord, as originated on the Twitter device by @lordlikely @prof_elemental

    Splendid!

    Subscribe in a reader

    Comments

    4 incredible interjections thus far.

    The Mighty El Gavino

    That whole Pwn Greenland thing you have on your side bar is outdated. I suppose you could shoot me an email at some point Andy. I’d like that. Merry Xmas and stuff.

    - El Gavino

    The Mighty El Gavino, December 20th, 2011 at 5:02 pm

    Likelypedia

    [...] Professorship: a boat used for the deportation of unsavoury scientists, e.g Professor Elemental. [...]

    Likelypedia, January 20th, 2012 at 5:58 pm

    Lord Likely’s Wooden Jubilee

    [...] Craske and Mr. Jonathan Pinnock and formed an uneasy alliance with the bafflingly popular musician, Professor Elemental. I have even conquered the airwaves in the form of my own astonishing audio play, and I have even [...]

    Lord Likely’s Wooden Jubilee, February 25th, 2012 at 5:35 pm

    Taking the Pith

    [...] But worse still was yet to come, for this was not just a comic, but a comic centred around the exploits of one of my most hated enemies, that pith-helmeted pranny, Professor Elemental. [...]

    Taking the Pith, September 11th, 2013 at 10:53 pm

    Speak Forth to the Lord

    Further Excellence...

    Tags:

    Purchase Fine Wares!

    About His Lordship

    Lord Likely was a renowned member of the English aristocracy in the Victorian era. Tales of his exhilarating, enthralling and highly erotic exploits were legendary, but only now have his own, personal diaries resurfaced (found in a branch of Help the Aged in Swindon), shedding light on the life of this extraordinary eccentric.

    Warning: these journals contain material that some people may find terribly offensive, or incredibly arousing

    Peruse Further...

    Contact His Lordship!

    Send his lordship your letters, nude pictographs, declarations of love and wads of cash by clicking upon the most handsome stamp above!

    Teriffic Twitterings

      Follow His Lordship On Twitter

      Enjoyed the journals? Then why not donate a few shillings, by clicking 'pon the button above!

      All funds raised go towards his lordship's drinking fund, with absolutely NO proceeds going to the homeless or any other filthy wastrels

      Lord Likely's Favourite fellow web-loggers

      The Likely Empire

      Mingle

      Lord Likely's Incredible SUBSCRIBE-O-HAT subscribe-o-hat Click 'pon the hat and ne'er miss a single chapter of his Lordship's adventures.

      Letters To His Lordship

      Please use this form to direct all mail, cash bribes and offers of marriage and/or intercourse:

      Contact Form
      Message
       

      cforms contact form by delicious:days