It’s Friday morning and I’m enjoying my coffee and looking forward to a long day of work followed by a weekend of more work because I overbooked myself this month and have so much shit to take care of. UGH. Freelancing has its downsides. I definitely lied in the post one or two back where I believed the rest of the month would be easier.
But before I go do work to pay rent and survive in capitalism (you can help me write more and suffer less!), I’m going to treat myself to some Dracula.
Today is our first day in Mr. Lobotomy’s diary. The book notes that it is “kept in phonograph,” so this is an audio log? On a phonograph? It’s never occurred to me that a phonograph would be used for such a thing.
Mr. Lobotomy is depressed today and the only thing he can think to do to cope is work. He picks out a patient he finds interesting and…
I questioned him more fully than I had ever done, with a view to making myself master of the facts of his hallucination. In my manner of doing it there was, I now see, something of cruelty. I seemed to wish to keep him to the point of his madness—a thing which I avoid with the patients as I would the mouth of hell.
I guess the first step is recognizing you have a problem.
This patient that Mr. Lobotomy is fixated on is apparently named R M Renfield, in case that comes up later. He appears to be a big, physically intimidating man which, by description, appears to be bipolar. Mr Lobotomy dubs him “potentially dangerous” and comes to some conclusion about him that I can’t figure out is relevant to us or not (I don’t care and decided I didn’t need to).
The second letter of the day interests me more, as it’s from our cowboy Quincey to Arthur, closing the triad of Lucy’s three suitors. He invites Arthur to join him for a campfire and their bro Jack Seward will be there too!
My dear Art–
We’ve told yarns by the camp-fire in the prairies; and dressed one another’s wounds after trying a landing at the Marquesas; and drunk healths on the shore of Titicaca. There are more yarns to be told, and other wounds to be healed, and another health to be drunk.
We all know what cowboys get up to on the prairies dressing each others wounds and drinking healths. They mutually know Jack Seward from “the Korea.”
Quincey’s letter is very affectionate and he promises that as sad as they may be, they are thrilled that Arthur has earned the hand of the woman they all loved.
In other words, Lucy could have maybe married all three. She could have had it all.
Man imagine being the main slut in a queer marriage with three dudes who have jerked each other off. They all seem to get along so perhaps the drama would be minimal and it would just be non-stop sexy.
I’m really so sad for Lucy.
The Dracula Daily for today, it turns out, is two sentences long.
Count me in every time. I bear messages which will make both your ears tingle.
Art, darling, I simply cannot wait for the stag party.