(diaryland) January 18, 2005 - 3:54 p.m.

Today, I am writing a barrage of diary entries. This may or may not have something to do with me being at work and being too tired to actually work, yet not too tired to philosophise very strongly for a number of hours.

I just started reading a biography of Rudolph Valentino. So far, his dad died and he grew up. When he was a child, he threw stuff at his sister a lot.

I think that the lady who wrote the biography has a really big crush on him. She keeps writing all about how 'lithe' he was and such things. It's beginning to make me feel uncomfortable, and we're still only in the period where he had a hefty monobrow. I hate to think what's coming up next, like when he gets into movies and such things.

I read somewhere else that one time, Rudolph Valentino was wandering around on Mary Pickford's lawn, and her husband Douglas Fairbanks ran outside and told him to shoo.

I heard it was a very big lawn. It might have been easy to accidentally end up on it and accidentally look handsome at the same time.

I like Rudolph Valentino movies. Sometimes, he will dance the tango in baggy pants and sometimes he will swing his head around, cackling. "Mwa-hahahahaaa!" I AM ME! I KICK ARSE! SEE MY GROOVY HAT, SIDEBURNS AND PANTS! YOU CANNOT RESIST!

I don't know. They're cute and funny.

If I were you, I would watch Blood and Sand. It's excellently camp. There was a remake of that movie with talking, made in the forties, I think. It starred Tyrone Power Junior in that one, which I thought was a good idea.

Richard Barthelmess is my favourite silent movie actor, though.

OK. I should stop now.