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Day 65: Gadgets, Aston Martins and Cyanide Pills

I would like to be a spy. Or a detective. But there are a couple of conditions. For the first, I can only be a spy if everyone (and that is no-one because no-one can know you are a spy) calls me by the preferred title 'Covert Operative'. That is what I would have on my card. Also, I am not comfortable to be an agent of my own government. That seems a little bit too much like dobbing. I would prefer to work for the KGB or the French Foreign Legion. (If you are, please stop taking me seriously about now. Now. Yep, now. Now. Okay? We good?) But seriously. If they could move Canberra up out of that crater and put it by the beach, I would be there. I can't tell you anything, and you have to be prepared for the fact that if I am captured, the Government does not negotiate, but if you see Canberra move, you know. You understand what I am saying. [Eye twitches, head jearks, nods, winks]. Don't make me spell it out. For the second, I would need to graduate from the Academy and start the following Monday on the Homocide Squad. I would not be able to do my time in the ranks without going stark-raving-mad due to the general stupidity of the criminal population. I would need to work with the top of the criminal chain. Like Clarice. Alternatively, I would be happy to be a shoe-maker or a writer of Country and Western lyrics.

List_Addict               Irene

This is what my poor colleagues heard from me today: twelve hours until my holiday; ten hours, forty-eight minutes to go; Everyone, nine hours exactly; oh my god, serious? four priority one accidents on the freeway at the same time?; Hey Bob, I have seven hours and four minutes to go until my holiday, how are you?; six hours to go, six hours to go, hi-ho the merrrrryyyy-o; What's this shit? (only kidding); four hours, twelve minutes, fifty-six, no fifty-five, no fifty four ... the seconds won't stop. Obnoxious. I am sorry. But aaaahhhhhhhhhhh, aaahhhahhahhhhh, oh my goodness, joy. I am on holidays. Sorry B——.


The Outfit
Shirt: Target
Top (Over Shirt): Vintage Southern Chinese Hill Tribe Bra (have no idea how it works but it is not designed with occidental boobies in mind I would say, beautiful fabrics and hand-dyed with locally made dye)
Skirt: Op-shopped
Shoes: Irregular Choice 'Daisy Dayz'
Photographer de Jour: B——



Who wore it better? Celebrating linking today with:

pleated poppy




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