S-K-R-I-I-I-T-C-H! Fwop. Fwop. Fwop.
S-K-R-I-I-I-T-C-H! Fwop. Fwop. Fwop. By the time the strange cadence began a third time, I was up and out of my seat - curious to see who was disembowling a woodchuck behind my live van. Imagine my delight when instead I found a lovely TV reporter I'd yet to meet.
S-K-R-I-I-I-T-C-H! With a practiced flip of the wrist, she unrolled a length of purloined gaffer's tape and dabbed (Fwop. Fwop. Fwop.) at the all but invisible lint on her black slacks. I stood there in admiration as the reporter do what it took to feel comfortable on-air. I was thinking of
a similar vista when she looked up, saw the digital camera cradled in my hand and begged for mercy. "Don't take a picture of
THIS!" she said - never breaking away from her unauthorized fuzz hunt ... She should know better than to to say THAT that to a photog.
4 comments:
Where have you been? This is COMMON practice among women in any field. Packing tape works well too. In a pinch, I've even stapled a wayward hem in place.
You clearly don't remember me “vacuuming” the house on Cotanche Street. Duct Tape; is there anything you can’t do?
Of course, I'm not as pretty as a one of dem der TEEVEE womens.
HP
Ouch, gaff tape is a little expensive to be using like that.
Nice pants though.
Can you get me an 8x10 signed by the reporter?
;-)
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