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Sunday, 8 June 2014

In which One is howling at things various…

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I know, I know!  One did say that One would be starting the new Brixham painting this aft (having dined out on ‘Brixham Sunset’ for FIVE YEARS…

BUT…

‘Beaches’ was on TV and One couldn’t bear to miss it, so, kleenex clutched, One settled down for a massive howling session.

AND…

In homage to the wonderful BM: here is a pic of Lovely One from the Bette Midler lookalike years.

That size ten, Chelsea Girl Top wouldn’t fit up me left thigh now, Oh cruel, cruel time. 

TOMORROW, twixt mercy dashes, One shall resume normal output.  It seems almost obscene that One should make, an albeit meagre, living when One has done feck all in the work depot for the past three weeks.

                                     ~

AND…

To be rewarded by the universe for such errant behaviour with delicious days of unbridled bliss seems decadent in the extreme.

One has been positively romping through life, smelling the flowers and devouring long forgotten delicacies.

Just when One had pulled up the drawbridge, organised One’s grey, second-best pants drawer (if any of those Sloggis get to see the light of day they will become radio active) and generally begun withdrawing into the confines of the Underground Lair, One has been poked from above by a divine digit.  One has been positively singled out and sprinkled with stardust, picked out by a silver moonbeam and given the starring role. (And you know, Dear Reader, how One simply adores showing off!)

However, ‘tis actually rather difficult to recount One’s fabulous life with a WN throwing up an entire tub of Ben and Jerrys in the bathroom. 

THAT BATHROOM WAS CLEAN ENOUGH TO LAUNDER A PEER OF THE REALM IN!

                                          ~

And as if all that wasn’t bliss enough, Lovely Gordon is putting in an appearance up the passage tomorrow.

One expects more tales of the Ottolenghi catered soiree where LG regaled Peter Cattaneo (google him, Dear Reader) with tales of Baumatic washin mashins and how washing under 60 degrees can render one’s shreddies veritably toxic.

Oh how the rich and famous mwa mwa up the smoke!

GIVE ONE A BLISSFUL AFTERNOON IN DULVERTON ANY DAY!

No one has shouted One’s name that loudly since One inadvertently hopped off the kerb in front of the Stopsley School Bus!

 

1 comment:

Michael said...

I clicked through to the photo; it looks like you're eating with no pants on. The "Bette Midler phase" must have been some wild days indeed!