black bart wrote:Will I have to disguise my Welsh Accent?
I suppose you might mistake me for Anthony Hopkins if I knock back a bottle of Chianti first!
Don't you mean if she
knocks back a bottle(nebuchadnezzar) of chianti first?
I shouldn't talk, though.
After nine hours of crawling through attics, ripping my scalp on roofing staples, tearing my shirt on truss-gussets, sweating balls(it was 96F outside today), I stopped for gasoline at a Circle-K, (everyone else was stopping on their way to halloween parties)...
There I was, torn shirt, smelly, dirty, covered in sweat-crusted bits -and-clumps of cellulose insulation, dried micro-rivulets of blood on my head and neck....
A cute 20-something girl in line ahead of me did a double-take, turned around, and said, "I like your costume."
*I mugged the camera. a'la Inspector Clousseau, and then looked back at her*
I asked, "What costume?"
She replied, "You're dressed as that body that turned up out at the county landfill last week, right?"