Oh Lordy, it's The Return of Samuel Pepys
More Pepys, because I can't leave it alone. And do you realise how hard it is to come up with this stuff when auto-correct keeps taking over? What I really need is MS Word Olde Englishe Version for Windowes Reformation Edition.
6th September 1666: Up betimes, and I can now safely emerge from my cellar, as it appears ye Greate Fyre is extinguish'd. Tis good fortune for Newton and myselfe that the conflagration should be blam'd on some baker's oven, and not on Newton setting fire to his owne fartes for a drunk'n wager. And woe, for it appeares that even Madame Pomprey's Slattern parlour has been raz'd to the ground, and her floozies are forc'd to ply for business in ye smould'ring ruins. Newton and I gotte six, as it appeares there is a fyre sale on.
8th September 1666: Up to the dockyards at Chatham in myne fynest carryage, where I did avail myself to the services of a comely sailor whom I buggr'd quite joyously in the presence of a fine artist called Taylor. I was most pleas'd with the results of his pen-and-ink drawings, and paid him a crown to buy his silence. Mrs Pepys accompanied me on this trip, as part of her worthy campaign for the welfare of this nation's sailors. I am told that her meeting was well attended by several dozen visiting matelots &c, and she is now much fatigu'd by her efforts, having the greatest difficulty walking the few yards back to our coach, remark'ng that she had "never in such tymes enjoy'd such seamen". It is g'd to think she shares the same interests as I.
12th September 1666: Up betimes and to my offices, where I signed several papers concerning the debts accrued on our country estate. Happily, this sad state of affairs was resolved when I found young Honourable Thomas Carr in the arms of the visiting Prince of Ludwig in some seedy den of vice I was visitynge as part of my surveys for the rebuilding of this fine capital, and not, I muste point out, to take advantage of the many buxom younge wenches who have fallen on hard times. Both Ludwig and the less-than-Honourable Carr entreated me with shock, tears &c not to tell their respective fathers, for fear of losing their allowances, and I heartily agreed, on the proviso that I should be allowed to watch their manly luste, and that they paid me a tidy sum for my silence. After my debts were paid, there was still a pretty penny to spare for much wenchinge, drunkenness and a kebab on ye way home.
13th September 1666: Mrs Pepys is still much wearied by her exertations in Chatham, and stay'd abed this morning while I visit'd my offices. I am grateful that her hand-picked footman and butler both stay'd behind in her attendance, to ensure that my beloved is eating properly. In fact, she enjoy'd a bountiful spread, as I heard both Wilkins and Fowler agreeing that Mrs Pepys had enjoy'd a "ryght olde stuffing" today, and particularly enjoy'd the "Cleveland Steamer" which form'd, I presume, the dessert.
15th September 1666: Awoken at some ungodly hour this morning by a hammer'ng at my door, with a voice without declaring "Alas! This is the ende of ye worlde" Fearing for my lyfe, I ran out into the street, wearing nothing but my baby-doll nightie to fynde a flaming mass on my doorstep. Thinking not, I stamp'd out ye flames, only to discover to my great woe, it was merely a bag fill'd with a dog turde. I'm going to fuckynge kill that Newton.