Magnificent Photo.
There's a lovely story told by my husband's ex-boyfriend. He was out cruising for trade on Clapham Common one night, and caught the eye of an obliging and very beautiful chap with gorgeous shoulder length blonde hair. This adonis among men proceded to... do what the Lemur is doing.
So L, the H's E-B is leaning with his back against a tree, having... attention lavished on him, when he sees a very large gentleman walking down the path towards them. As this gentleman approaches, LtH'sEB sees more and more detail: the Pit Bull. The Shaved head. The bomber jacket. The stare.
LTHsEB is torn. He's obviously at high risk of being queerbashed, but his... lemury chum is *completely unaware* of the slow-approaching peril. Duck season... rabbit season... what to do? Break off a perfectly lovely encounter, and run for it, or hope the very large skinhead passes them by?
LTH'sEB prevaricates. with every passing second the skinhead draws closer, as does LTH'sEB.
... and decides that he's having far too much fun, and blow the consequences. As it were.
So... the very large skinhead draws level with the tree, looks LTH'sEB straight in the eye and says 'Nice one, mate'. As he walks away, he glances back over his shoulder, looks down, smiles, and says:
'Good Girl.'
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