I hereby decree that my blogpostles will spend the next 5 minutes enjoying my holiday daguerreotypes.
God knows you don’t deserve it, you mercurial wastrels, you hulking boobs, you preposterous poltroons!
But I am nothing if not handsomely forgiving, and I can’t stay mad at you for long.
In fact I am so handsome, that when I tried to take a selfie on the beach, my camera shattered into a million pieces whose ethereal forms rose up in unison toward Heaven, thronged by angels strumming lyres.
God came forth and spake “NAY PROPHET DOUBTPUPPET! NAY! Your face is too divine for a mere human camera to capture. I won’t allow it! Take a picture of something else lest I smite you! And your little dog Toto!”
And that my friends(“Hey we’re not your friends!”(Well shucks – that’s just rude(incidentally if anyone knows what a shuck is, please leave a comment below))), is how I invented the bootsie! It’s a trademark which means I can have you shot if you use it, unless you pay me in gold bullion. Or 6 eagle owls.
And a bottle of Tizer.
(plus 3 Toblerones)
Saaaaay – this deal’s getting worse all the time!?
(OK NOW IT’S 3,000,000 TOBLERONES!)
(any more complaints? no? That’s what I thought you little bitch. You’re in MY JUNGLE NOW! And don’t you forget it!)
Now that my signature velvet smooth pre-amble is out of the way(I am available to write smooth introductions for a sickeningly high fee), here’s a couple of bootsies I took on the beach:
And for the bootcists among you, here are some boring sanitised photos for your boot-hating predilection(you footwear Nazis!):
The trouble with holiday photos without people in is they just look like postcards. Without the vanity it’s no fun.
One more boot-based photo for the road? I knew you’d say yes:
And here’s Patti Page to sing us out: