Lord Byron...

Lord Byron was kind of a jerk.

You can read about him in this book:

He lived in the 19th century and wrote poetry in England and abroad.

He also traveled, fought in a war, took banned substances and broke hearts. 

His mom complained that "he suffered from the worst of all maladies - love"

He ruined many a ladies virtue and was prone to overspending and wild mood swings. 

He loved Italy. 

He also wrote one of the greatest love poems ever. 

Here is a stanza from "She Walks in Beauty."

"She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright 

Meet in her aspect and her eyes."

I have no clue what a 'cloudless clime' is but I think I want one. 

Dude, could write.

Dude was a philanderer.

But, dude could write.

I'm not a romantic.

You know what I think is romantic?

Unloading the dang dishwasher.

Putting the dang kids to bed. 

But that poem...

Its got something.

Its got something I like.

He lived in Venice with his mistress for awhile.

Venice...

Venice...

Venice...

Venice...

Venice...

Its got something too. 

Its got something that I like.

Maybe Byron was on to something. 

You're forgiven Lord Byron.