Goldenshowers, Celsea, Hymen, and Me.

Last night it was party time. Oh yeah, oh yeah. Some little bobbit, Goldenshowers I think her name is, was organising an event to raise money for some little babies, or something. It was all rather unclear. And then people went walking off through the woods somewhere, for no apparent reason. Weird.

It all started badly when that moron Tom Bombadil wouldn't stop his inane skipping and treehugging. Damn he's an annoying little twerp. La la la la, tripitty skippity puke. Hug a tree, recite some doggerel, and all of a sudden people think you're just fabulous. Ridiculous, if you ask me. He's got a cute wife, I'll give him that, but as for the rest... well, he's a waste of space.

Then Goldenshowers made everybody walk down to the riverbank for the concert. I mean, hullo? A riverbank?! Have you never heard about mosquitos? Hullo? Anybody home? Honestly, it's gotta be that bobbit brain size is proportional to body size. Not impressive. How can a talented musician such as myself be expected to play stupendous music while being eaten alive by the damn bugs?

Not that the rest of the band was affected, but then nobody would ever expect them to play stupendous music, would they? Nope. Right first time. Hole in one, baby, hole in one.

But hey, who cares about them? More about me!

And more about the lovely Celsea of Rohan, who stole the show and stole my heart right along with it. I think she was supposed to have a horse, because she's from Rohan, but I didn't see one. Maybe BBB ate it before the show. Barbecued horse and beer. Mmmm..... tasty. Well, moving right along, the lovely Celsea of Rohan and I danced together all night, almost arm in arm. Not quite actually arm in arm because she kept moving away for some reason, no idea why. I think maybe we were dancing on a slope or something, which would explain it. I guess she just kept sliding downhill, which was, coincidentally, in a direction away from me.

Perhaps if I'd gone around to the other side of her we could have become quite intimate.

Our romance has been immortalised for posterity by the infamous Cennwyn, whose name also begins with C but who isn't nearly as nice as the lovely Celsea. That stupendously handsome man is me, of course, and the lovely lady in the background, with a very nice blue dress, is the lovely Celsea. You can see clearly how she is looking at me with admiration shining from her eyes.

Well, of course. I can hardly be surprised.

And talking about blue dresses, there was another lady there in a blue dress, no idea who it was, but I think her name was Hymen. Pretty strange name for a lady, I suppose, or at least for any lady that I know well, but hey, there's no accounting for taste. She was visiting from foreign climes, and there were whispers going around that she's quite the celebrity. I didn't see anything great about her, to be honest, but I did catch her looking at my lovely Rose outfit with admiration.

I thought her own fashion sense left a little to be desired. I mean, her colour choice was rather dull and stodgy, kind of boring creams and poofy blues, but I guess she was pretty old. Didn't want too much excitment in her life.

If she ever needs fashion advice, she knows where to find me.