I guess it would be marginally appropriate to bring forth a witty ass explanation, as to my disappearance from the 'blogger-sphere' for the last quarter? But the darn truth is, im just far to busy kissing the whiskers off my amazing Mr.Maximus.
*Edit... wringing out of his slobberfied wrinkles, and
chasing him around the fort, aiming to prise my slippers out of his chops and back onto my frost-bitten feet.
But if you too, have been lucky enough to have witnessed his friendly furrowed face of recent, im sure you'll agree, it be a pretty damn good excuse. :)
But just in case you may have forgotten (since his last, every 15 minutely FB upload)... here's a quick reminder of what landed on my lap this October 4th.....
Yes.. the most beautiful blue pooch any man has ever seen.
.....And amongst the month of gorping at his lovely mush with with sheer admiration... there's been the good old modelling to keep me busy every God given day; covering every last inch of the Great British Isles and beyond, WHILST attempting to renovate the home-sweet-home, all with a teeny-weeny ball of
barking/snoring/peeing cuteness, in tow.
Life has never been better. :)
So much so, im going to head back out there now and enjoy it....
Yes, it may not yet be December and I may usually be hailing "Humbug" into megaphones and shaking fists at shoppers with their 'bird of pray' like, shopping bag wing span. BUT incontrovertibly it appears to be someone's 1st Christmas, here at the
Raphaella residence. :)
So feck it! The evergreen's going up tonight!
But not to fret; Ill be leaving you all with this scrummy selection of Nudeography's captured by the fantastical
Pino Leone, taken in a heatwave clad Roma, earlier this Augusto.
So whilst my mind fry's, to the mentally infecting sound of GTA-5...
That's the lame-brained game of the moment, 'Grand Theft Auto', for anyone whom doesn't know... has a life?
Yes that right, 2013's latest installment, of misogynistic, megalomaniac massage, has hit planet Raph.
If you still don't have an inkling as to what it is, that Im carrying-on about, you've clearly and creditably been rocking this seasons must have blinkers. And thus, have avoided every billboard from here to Papua New Guinea, containing the animated mugshots of these seemingly post-apocalyptic, rabies ridden, once were SIMS.
Grab yourself 1 hyper-homicidal Mark Wahlberg, a handful of narcotized Chris Brown's and season lavishly with weapons of war. And hey presto you've got yourselves a multi billion dollar grossing, minefield of girlfriend mass suicide.
Best Served: Not At All
Alternative recipe's include:
Take 1 Disc, remove from its unevolved, pre-millenia graphic clad packaging, frisbee said disc onto the roof, and leave till doomsday. Meanwhile, grab your half salvaged man and get him straight to work on your soon to be, Garden of Eden, mural amaze-balls hallway.
So whilst some form of ill seasoned attempt at Florentine cuisine sizzles in the strove behind me, I thought it be rather apt, to pull out of life's hypothetical hard shoulder and back onto the 16 abreast social-network highway.
And whilst no soul saving, road side assistance came to my rescue; a month of 'me time' and a handful of Worthers Originals, is seemigly enough to doctor your inner grinding, gear box, back to its usual smooth-like-chocolate self.
But the damn truth is, I never 'actually' dialed the darn Automo-soul Association at all. ("Cue orchestral Tut-Tut"). In facto, silly old me, drove approximately 16,000 miles, in a soft top poached of its top, supporting an exhaust that's playing homage to the Great Fire of Rome. Such transportaitonal attributes generally don't transcend into a Conde Nast speacial on Ultimate Road Trips. In fact the billowing black trail of destruction you leave in your trail, is more likely to see your sorry ass face on page 43 of the Daily Star, now starring in a Wicker-Man prequel; as your offend-ies and new born enemies, clad of their ceremonial robes, prance around a roaring inferno of you.
You follow me?..
In layman's terms, I suck.
But in less breaky down self-esteem car news, I was rather lucky to spend some of this Settembre zooming around the heavenly Tuscan countryside in this little Fiat number...
Yes, given my global latitude and oscillating state of mind, it would of been a wee witless, not to take advantage of the weeks office wearbouts and extend my stay on the beautiful boot shaped peninsula.
4 Days, 2 Lovebirds, 1 Vineyard, 24 Scoops of Gelato, some guy called David and 1 Leaning tower...has proven its self to be a highly recommended, chemical blend of feel good components. And thus; a slightly more socially exceptable alternative, to its bargain bucket competitor, Happy Gas.