Nice relaxing morning looking up some knee length Steampunk boots. Well, it was relaxing until I saw how much they'd gone up in price. Then I went quite, quite pale.
Between you and I, I have no problems paying for the right product. But she who glares does, and Steampunk ain't her style. Particularly as a lot of online searches throw up shops that also sell, ahem, 'ladies and gentlemen's toys'.
I suspect the Bear also believes I should behave myself at my age, and stop drooling over knee length shiny black boots with floor to ceiling even-shinier buckles. She mutters strange incantations like 'haircut', 'new glasses' or even 'Bill'. Can you believe it? Bill!
Haircut indeed. That's like visiting Santa's Grotto, and finding out he's actually a dapper, clean shaven 11- stoner, wearing a grey suit, a diamond check yellow and grey jersey, and a yellow tie.
Who hands out healthy eating leaflets.
Mind you. I often wonder why I get satsumas, sultanas and walnuts in my Christmas Tights. Mmm. Walnuts.
By the way. People who wear glasses all the time?
How you do "The Glint Of Disapproval?" It's an impressive ability. I use reading glasses. I managed to work out the looking-over-the-top bit, with impressive effect, but the Glint?
A slight twist of the neck, a tilt of the head, a raised eyebrow, and there it is. The briefest flash of light, and bingo. Roberts y'mothers brother.
Do you practice in front of a mirror for hours? Is it a genetic ability? So many questions, so much to learn.
I have to say though, when you change to contact lenses, it just looks, well, nah. No, please.
It's looks like you need an Osteopath, urgent like.
Right. Boots. Dribble. I'm off.
Cathya Laters x :)
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