Lady Dalston Presents : 'Le Monstre Productions

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OOOH! BURLESQUE? is the love child of the pure adoration of the Burlesque scene and the desire for it to be recognised for the art form that it was, is and will be! Say OOOH! for BURLESQUE!

Saturday, 12 November 2011

The Guardian of The Drug Eaters- MARY JANE by Lady Dalston (Chapter 2)

'Hours can be spent looking at the same thing...hours
Hours can be spent laughing at the same thing...hours
Hours cabn be spent musing at the same thing...hours
Hours can be spent smoking the same thing...hours
Hours can be spent falling for the same thing....hours
Time consuming hours can be spent with the time consuming Mary Jane

At first it is very exciting.  Borderline legal, borderline illegal.  The equipment is new and makes young tactile fingers twitch.  Rebellious, even if everyone you know already dabbles.

Watching your companions drop one by one, like sleepy bumblebees on a warm hot summers day.  What had started as civillised, witty and slightly intellectual conversation slipped ever so subtely to immature giggling.
Gradually movements become slow and cumbersone.  Conversation dropped to a minimalistic state rotating amongst the same topics.  The room becomes foggy, the walls swirling, people become unfocused and time becomes irrelevant.  Time could stand frozen or accelerate at an alarming rate.

As a Gaurdian, this world was most tiresome.  the once entrancing bits and pieces seems messy, the stinging eyes uncomfortable, the conversation tiring, the empty snack packets strewn clumsily seemed to spread and the lack of movement, words and life was stifling.

And yet, the Drug Eaters consumed and consumed.  More and more.  A never ending cycle of rolling on and on. 

Take a bit, grind, grab a paper, add tobacco, add weed, tear off a roach, roll roach, add roach to paper, roll, lick, admire, light, inhale, hold, exhale, smile and descend into highness.  
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

As a Gaurdian you watch.  Always watching.  The endless cycle.  Amid curiosity and defiance.  Someone has to offer to go to the shop and feed the munchies.  Someone has to want to get fresh air.  Someone has to be able to get up.

However one cannot be defiant forever.  There comes a time when the joint assumes it can pass you but because you are a Gaurdian, not a Drug Eater.  Anyone would be tempted but a Gaurdian?  At that point your hand is outstretched, taking it from the air and taking a puff.  Casually, as if it is a regular thing.  Easy to pull off due to the careful observation over time.  Ignoring the raised eyebrows, grateful fo the lack of verbal acknowledgement from the Drug Eaters and embracing the descent into highness.
Before too long the Gaurdians are able to settles into the Drug Eaters rountine.  On repeat, On repeat. It is a welcome break from keeping a watchful eye open. Now everything is cloudy. A different kind of safe. Safe from responsibility.  For a brief time a Gaurdian wandered in the Land of the Drug Eaters.  Taking in everything, good and bad.  There was no hostility from the Drug eaters or the Lands itself.  No pride, no shame and no regret of having been the circle that had enticed a Guardian from its post.  A line had been crossed but the world hadn't ended.

Sometimes everything was hysterical. Joyful.  Nothing could be more funny than what we could see.  Everyone was witty.  A change of octave in a song was beautiful.  Nothing tasted better than when it was feeding the munchies.  The room had never spun so gently.  The smoke hung delicately in the air.  Hours became minutes.  Seconds became weeks.  Silence could be so peaceful or happy.  The senses came alive and were dullled simultaneously in that someone stroking your neck felt incredible but to tray and focus your eyes became impossible.

As a Guardian it was entering the unknown.  Finally to experiance what the Drug Eaters did with such ease and familiarity.  Finally to understand why this process was so delightful to repeat.  To master the art of creating a joint.  To become proficient at rolling.  Skills, emotions, experiences, knowledge that no Guardian has dare lean before.  To learn to judge the quality of the herbs, how to convince a dealer to lave the house and meet you because you could barely stand up, to know you've got a good deal and when you've been ripped off.

  Oh to explain the excitement of a Gaurdian treading through the world they had been convinced they had to watch over!

As a Guardian you look back at the time spent watching over the Drug Eaters who spent their evenings, afternoons, nights and mornings in the company of Mary Jane with  hint of remorse.  Time wasted surely?  These drug eaters were safe.  Even without their Guardian nothing happened.  A false mission? Or run thorugh? Or a test? A rehearsal, training a preperation for the future missions that were coming?  If that was the case it was tempting to believe that I had already failed.  Or, and by far the more appealing, this Guardian had learnt a valuable lesson.  Delving into the Drug eater lands had opened both eyes and mind, given valuable insight and an enjoyable experience.  
But a Guardian can always say no right?  A Guardians is always ready to watch over a Drug Eater.  To that we can never say no.

Monday, 5 September 2011

The Fool and The Whore

The Fool and The Whore by Lady Dalston

A pale young man
In a waistcoat and cap
Wound through the streets of London
By a flimsy hand writ map
He was strictly brought up
Believed the words of the church were true
If only he knew what was coming
O' God if only he knew
'Head to Mrs Warrens'
His friends had declared
But nothing more was revealed
No, nothing more was shared
Suddenly there it was
He could hear ecstasy and din
For there lay Mrs Warrens House
In all its splendour, glory and sin
Corsets and skirts were all he could see
As well as breasts and thighs
He could hear the heavy breathing of men
He could hear their lusty sighs
Out of the door came a beautiful creature
All laced in the right places
Never had he seen such a form
Never seen such a face among faces
Under her eyelashes she looked
At this young man, pale and thin
And her voice floated over to him
'My dear are you coming in?'
His body instantly tightened
He felt  full of indignation
How dare she embarrass him so
With her games of sordid flirtation
'No you whore' he muttered darkly
Instantly regretting that expression
For she was a beautiful creature
Though shamed in Mrs Warrens profession
'What was that young man?'
As if she hadn't heard
'Don't you think to insult me
You simpleton, you nerd!'
'You heard me you tart
I won't follow you inside
Not where its demeaning and degrading
To one's pride'
'You moronic imbecile
You cretin, you jerk
What's it to you
Where I choose to work?
I'm a member of the oldest profession
And yes I do walk the street
But this cat-house young man
Will never be obselete
Oh you can can call it shameful
Sinful and betraying
But what about those men in there
Who for my 'love', they are paying?
So you can call me a tart
Or  a slut or a whore
But our houses of ill-repute
Will always have men at the door!'
The young man hung his head
He didn't know what to say
But then she leant forward and whispered
'Pick me and you won't have to pay!'
'So what do you say?'
She said with a wink
And kissed him hard
Before he could think
He ran behind her
Hunting her up the stairs
Forgetting all in his mind
His beliefs and his cares
They didn't sleep a wink
Filled with joy and delight
By morning they were exhausted
For he'd shagged her all night
Together they lay
He rested on her chest
But as he woke up
She was ready and dressed
'Farewell young man' she said
As she tightened a lace
Then she stopped and giggled
At the horror on his face
'Oh you silly young moron
You love me now don't you?
Well come back with some money
And then I'll love you too'
She put on her gloves and hat
And she swept out the the door
And the fool comforted his broken heart
Betrayed by the whore

Thursday, 1 September 2011

The Guardians of The Drug Eaters by Lady Dalston (Chapter 1)

The Guardians of the Drug Eaters
Chapter 1

Everything requires something...or someone to function.  Whether that is oxygen, water, petrol, ink, life-support, religion, soil or heroin.  Some are merely part of your biological makeup, others are self inflicted and some are just the cards Lady Luck dealt you.

Within the world of the affectionately named Drug-Eaters everything requires something or indeed someone to function.  Mary Jane needs attention to grow and flourish.  Charlie needs someone to find his friends, old and new.  The brown horse needs a faithful friend with a life to share.  A grower, a supplier, a distributor, a buyer, a seller, an opposition, a researcher, an experimenter, an old hand, a regular crowd, a testifier, a worrier and a Guardian.

A Guardian.  Whose role it is not to say no to drugs, not to scorn, not to taunt and not to condone.  It is simply to be present, to protect those who are most precious to them.  To watch over and protect.  Like a child exploring on a beach, they are invincible and almighty under a watchful eye.  If they start to stray too far they can be called out to.  If they get lost and scared they can be comforted, kissed and held.  If they discover something amazing and incredible they have someone to tell , who will be thrilled for them. That is the Guardian. Not always because they understand why the story is so amazing but because they love the lit up eyes and the passion telling of an unforgettable journey, and they cherish every moment as much as the one telling the story.

It is not the Guardians job to go on these journeys but to be where the journey leaves from and returns to.  During the  journey itself a gentle eye takes in every dilated pupil, deep breath, smile and word.  A Guardian cannot help but take in every detail.

Imagine the chaos if all the Guardians gave up their posts and ventured with the Drug-Eaters!  In fact maybe they would be incapable, at first, of letting go and giving into the enjoyment?  Who would look after them?  They have seen it go awry too many times to go into the Drug-eater playground without apprehension.

The Guardians rarely journey with those they are with and when they do it is to get a better understanding of the experiences they have heard.  Someone has to be able to get water, a cold flannel,  blow out a candle, feed the munchies, wipe the need;e, wipe the credit card, wipe the sick off a face, find the way home, hold the hair back, reason with the unreasonable and wait patiently and happily at the end of each high with a smile for the safe return.

 The mothers are not trying to deny or admit what they do not understand.  The fathers are not proud or indifferent.  The friends cannot help them and they do not want to lose them.  This Guardian is not writing to explain, excuse or condemn.
So if you have an open mind, read on and listen to what I have to say...Welcome to the Drug Eater Lands.

Wednesday, 31 August 2011

The Lizard King & The Public Sheep by Lady Dalston

Based on David Icke's Talks : 'At the heart of his theories lies the idea that the world is becoming a global fascist state, that a secret group of reptilian humanoids called the Babylonian Brotherhood controls humanity, and that many prominent figures are reptilian, including George W. Bush, Queen Elizabeth II, Kris Kristofferson, and Boxcar Willie'.

Tuesday, 30 August 2011


Scum by Lady Dalston

So low I'm back at the top again
The smuttiest slut of the sordid scum
Don't give my body to science
If it's cut open, evil will spill out
It'll infiltrate your mind
Incredulously creating an intrinsic web across your mind
Leave me six feet under...put me to the stake
Just don't pity me...that would be your last mistake
Break my bones, burn my hair
I'll dance to the tune of death
Embracing each smoulder and crack
But don't you fret
I'll be back
Though I'd watch from behind closed doors
The live show tends to involve audience participation
So that's me
The sort that says hello
But doesn't ask 'How do you do?'
Your well being is not, as yet, my problem
Nothing personal, it's me, not you

Monday, 29 August 2011


Libertine by Lady Dalston

I'm going to Libertine my life away
But I have to work, so that I can play all day
There is something uniquely bizarre about I say
For work is for those who wish to toil away

But if you are finished, or can get off around five
Come and knock on a door to the house that is like a hive
Full of people coming and going, it seems alive
Though there are those that would call it a dive

But if you are daring, take my hand and follow me
To a land that is all utopias and free
Bring any spare, borrowed or stolen money
And leave behind normality
Forget that festering humanity
And return to a state of animality
And fucking brilliant abnormality
Where you can see the universe in its totality
And talk to God satanically
And play around with the stars of eternity
Have a chat with Jesus about his paternity
And mess around with sexuality
And flirt with yourself seductively
But when you think it is all going perfectly
And life is going so splendidly
It'll all end most disappointingly

But don't you worry, we'll be here
To tuck your hair behind your ear
As you vomit up your fear
Of living in the real world each day, each year

But don't you worry, we'll be right here
We're down here, waiting for you my dear
But you chose to live out there, not here
We like it in here, each day, each year

We sing songs of love and lust
Of flowers and clementines
Of tragedies and what we must
Of all the things we have seen

We'll wait for you, that you can trust
To go back to where we have been
We'll keep your place free of others and dust
Our lovely Libertine

Unicorns and Butterflies

Unicorns and Butterflies by Lady Dalston

Ginger beer, stationary and really old books
New clothes, favourite heels and retro, vintage looks
Familiar houses to go round for a cup of tea
Red London buses and hot days by the sea
Daisies and sunflowers and cuddly, purring cats
Cute feminine dresses and trendy trilby hats
Dancing because it feels good and smiling til it aches
Learning the words to a favourite song and kids birthday cakes
Clouds shaped like animals and brilliant TV shows
Someone pleased I came and a duvet when it snows
Laughing til I cry and the sun on my face
Big trees, rainbows and being in the right time and place
Unicorns and butterflies and fresh, crisp sheets
That wonderful bit where the sky and space meets
Someone coming round and a quirky movie
Laughing at myself and calling something groovy
A lazy day, merry-go rounds and swimming when its hot
Puppies and ponies and wishing forget-me-not
Eeyore, pizza, Wilde and the beach
Imaginary games and catching dreams that were nearly out of reach
And so many more thing that will have to go in Part 2
Though deep down we know that top of the list is...


by Lady Dalston - dedicated to Madre

Sunday, 28 August 2011


WOMAN by Lady Dalston

A beating a day
As the men say
Will keep a woman in place
But a woman can be more powerful
If she knows herself
And keeps a seductive smile
Slapped on her face

Friday, 26 August 2011

London Bus

London Bus by Lady Dalston

Great fat London bus
Lumbering around with all your weight
Like a gluttonous fat pig in the corner of a pub
Gorging itself on beer and swill
But that's what England is, that indulged man
That wanders around London, belly full of cans
A bit of kebab, ciggie on the floor
And the company of winos and possibly a whore 
By day it seems you have an honest profession
But by night your standards seem to lessen
And your comapny seems so sour
As time goes on, hour by hour
Great fat London bus
Your company seems so sour
So put on a new coat and your dancing shoes
And that way, dear fat bus
No-one can say a red bus has the blues
We'll take the bus and sing along
While the wheels on the bus...trundle along

Le Monstre & le chat

Le Monstre & The Cat by Lady Dalston