Okay, John, I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Have a closer look. Seriously, it’s a picture of me in a bikini in Cabo… And…nothing? Right, that’s it, it’s a trip to the opticians for you, young man.
Skilled in: Eye-lowering. Pretending not to notice your mistress. Crying silently.
We guarantee our maids will not murder you as you sleep*.
*227 days without a hushed-up incident.
Don’t be silly, Roger, you don’t look undignified - the ladies are going to think this is hella hot. Cecilia is practically overcome, look, she’s having some kind of hysterical fit on the beach. Let me go first when we get out though, I want to make sure she gets the full glory of my swimming leggings.
Why, of course I’ll try adding paprika, Ma’am, and I’m sure your version will taste much better than mine. After all, I only have the benefit of 30 years of experience, whereas you - well, you have that book. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go into the pantry for six minutes to prepare my special sauce.
"Well done, m’dear, after 38 hours, you have finally produced my first son and heir. You delaying did cause me to miss my golf outing with the chaps, but credit where credit is due and all that…"
"Oh Reginald, I do love you!"
"No need to get emotional Margaret. You had a baby, you didn’t come back from fighting the Hun."
I appreciate the gesture, Mother, I do, and I can’t say that I hate the notion of the fair. The other stuff though… the last time you put me in a dress, the other boys beat me quite badly. I still can’t see out of my left eye.
Or… she may be the goddamn woman of your dreams, soldier! Sure, she can’t open her eyes too good. Heck yeah, she’s got the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen. But she’s a dame, ain’t she? Hell, you could die tomorrow, son!
Oh no, no! My sweet baby girl! You have to lie on the tracks! The insurance company was quite specific.
Oh hang on a mo. I’m terribly sorry, I’m afraid the newspaper got my personal ad wrong. It was meant to say I was looking for a man with his own ROOM. For sexy daytime fun, away from prying eyes? That bit didn’t tip any of you off?
We sure will, honey. Your problems won’t start until Spring, when the Rapture comes and Daddy and I go to heaven. Remember that game of Spin the Bottle you played at Susan’s house? Well, Jesus saw and now you’re off the list of the Chosen.
Honey, come quick, it’s doing it again! Look at those bubbles! Wait, I’m going to go away and come back and see if they’re still there.