The random, but sometimes surprisingly connected (but not necessarily lucid), stream-of-consciousness thoughts of an optimistic, heavy drinking, cantankerous, iconoclastic, foul-mouthed, devil worshipping misogynist who gets into fist-fights and lived in a damp barge in the arse end of the Thames and now lives in a caravan and loves to slaughter cats by the flinty light of a full moon while reading poetry.
I do hope you were discreet with you camera or she may think she was being talent spotted for a top modelling agency.
ReplyDeleteObviously a vowel mixup at the printers...
ReplyDeleteGift from hopeful husband?
ReplyDelete