Swanning around

Stense is 'working from home' this week. On Monday, I sent her an email, accusing her of swanning around. This morning, she sent me a text message:

…Got in late last night to yr 'swanning around' email - I had just got in from seeing Swan Lake!

I am in league with the devil.

I met a retired ballerina once. Her name was Dame Margot Fonteyn. She was tiny, graceful and delicate—totally unlike a swan, in fact.

Swans aren't tiny, graceful and delicate; swans are HUGE, LUMBERING BASTARDS. It's common knowledge that they can break a man's arm with a beat of their wings. You wouldn't catch Dame Margot doing that. And, when they're not breaking people's arms, swans are pecking at you with their VISCIOUS beaks. But they don't call them beaks. Oh no, they call them bills. How bloody pretentious is that? When you think about it, swans are nothing more than oversized, dangerous ducks. They might act all innocent, but I half suspect swans actually eat people. They're supposed to live on weeds and gravel and shit off the bottom of ponds, but have you see the size of them? They're SODDING ENORMOUS! They didn't get that size by eating pondweed, I tell you.

Someone should do something.

See also: Bapera


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