Monday, November 05, 2007

Bobby H.

Julie's out of town again and as so often happens I use my "spare" time pretending to be literary.

Take a good look at the face in the etching here. Now read the following lines.

Whenas is silks my Julia goes,

Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows

The liquefaction of her clothes.

See, if he had had a pretty face, he wouldn't have the need to come up with such smooth lines, even if he had the capacity, which, with a pretty face, he wouldn't have in the first place. Or would he and we wouldn't have known because the need had never arisen?

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