Don't say it. I know. The fucking hands have got fucking jaundice.
In my defence (I seem to say that a lot), I was rushing a bit, since Tilly and I are off up the Lakes for a few days. Personally, I can't see why we don't fuck off somewhere warm for a week, but that's me being selfish, apparently.
Whatever. If we survive the thousand-hour drive up there without killing each other, there's the remote possibility that we might enjoy ourselves. We could maybe do a Withnail and I-inspired visit to Penrith. At least we're not camping, because that would be truly shit.
Anyway, no pics for a while. I'm hoping to get a bit of drawing done while we're there, so I should have something to post when we get back.
Wish us luck. We may need it.
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4 comments:
Gotta love the double guns... sorry about the cold sore- put some cream on it.- but it does bring out the blue in your open eye.
Hope you and Tilly don't kill each other and have a grand time.
"Personally, I can't see why we don't fuck off somewhere warm for a week, but that's me being selfish, apparently."
That sentence is really funny.I can actually hear the conversation that sprung that statement.
Women have agendas. Even ones we are not aware of.
Mrs. Hall
Did you get eaten by some sort of lake monster?
selena: Hello! I'm not dead! Hope to have something new posted in short order. I'm still drying out right now.
Mrs Hall: You came back! I have this pheromone thing going on, so I understand completely. Tilly's agendas have five year project plans attached with Gannt charts and everything.
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