Purveyor of Bollocks to the Crowned Heads of Europe
She is one in a million tomBut then...you know that
Trouble is, she knows that as well.
Well the fact that she drew you rather than cover you with the remains of the dinner speaks volumes
That hand is the one that feeds her.
But only literally...
You look buff. Does that translate?
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Yes it does translate and I know what it means because of all the young girls who stop me on the street to say just that to me. It looks as though John had an opinion about it, but decided not to air it.
i thought better of it x
That doesn't mean I think any better of you as a result.
Very nice drawing.You've reminded me of Pete Smith (remember him?). He was so busy working on a painting, in our bed-sit, that he failed to notice that it was on fire. Luckily I arrived home just in time to throw a few buckets of water around. His response was that he couldn't understand why he couldn't see his canvas too well. SMOKE, you idiot. I told him. The bloody place was filled with SMOKE.
Yes, after all these years, I now remember him again - I think he was truly a nutter. It doesn't help that I know someone here in Bath with the same name, and he is definitely not an artist, unless you count 'piss-artist'.
Tell H.I. that I love the picture! You will enjoy it so much longer than a profane meal.
The meals I cook are usually verging on sacred, unless they burn in hell while I am asleep. I will tell H.I.
Beautiful picture - why not auction it off on your blog (it would pay for a wasted meal)? The farmer and I often play Rummikub in the evenings and last night he fell asleep and knocked all his tiles off his rack - insisted his hand had slipped - didn't believe a word of it. Incidentally falling asleep at the table is a sure sign you are getting on in years (sorry).
Rummikub? Knocked all the tiles off his rack? Hand slipped? Are these innuendoes? Have I lead a sheltered life?Q: What do you do with a Wombat?A: Play Wom.
Considering a beautiful woman sketching, oblivious while her dinner burned, is another nice image to draw from the post. Did you wake with a start, or did she poke you and mention it was past time for dinner?
She has learnt - the hard way - that it is best not to poke me as I sleep. My old SAS training kicks in, and I cannot be held responsible for my inhumanly fast reactions.
SAS? You? Aren't you confusing your Tom's?
Maybe, but I'm not allowed to talk about it. My lips are SEALed.