tits

Not a word I particularly care for, to be honest, but I'm using it here to describe people rather than to refer to those objets desires which I prefer to call breasts (oh, now that is a word to relish. Like piccalilli). No, tits here is used in its most derogatory sense, to refer to the individuals who collectively make up the Moronista. The masses of people who would make me feel superior were it not for the terrible thought that the next generation of our species is going to resemble them more than it will me. And folks, we all know that is not really the best way forward. So evolution is, then, just a terrible accident. (That's one for both the scientists and the theologists to discuss.) Anyway, a day endured in the presence of some invariably stupid people who, for some reason, have chosen today to behave in a particularly dense manner. Unfortunate, but there we are.

Relief, however, provided by some excellent exhibitions of bust. Grrrr. Lordy, Miss Clawdie, straight out of the V&A some of the offerings today, and I'm assured that there's more to look forward (tee hee) to tomorrow. For some reason the v-necks were out of the wardrobe today, and that has to be a good thing. Anyway, as I say, there is a reason to get up on a Monday. Although it was a fine, fine balance today.

But Breasts is best.