I am grateful to the ubiquitious Mr D.
He has allowed a form of interaction to be observed and visually seen ... rather like a David Attenborough wild life documentary.
I wonder if he fully realises, as numbers dwindle in the little herd he so charmingly stalks, that he is revealing so much - that what is usually disguised, will be noted by the larger herd outside of the BB Gamepark.
Mr D's outer covering of charming witty urbane, sometimes disgruntled, waspish maiden aunt has become threadbare. What is showing through the worn bits is something he might have found wiser to darn.
Although I guess if you thought about it, in the realms of the nightmare world of Orwell's Big Brother, he would have found a nice office and pension plan waiting in The Ministry of ... ah ... Truth.
He has allowed a form of interaction to be observed and visually seen ... rather like a David Attenborough wild life documentary.
I wonder if he fully realises, as numbers dwindle in the little herd he so charmingly stalks, that he is revealing so much - that what is usually disguised, will be noted by the larger herd outside of the BB Gamepark.
Mr D's outer covering of charming witty urbane, sometimes disgruntled, waspish maiden aunt has become threadbare. What is showing through the worn bits is something he might have found wiser to darn.
Although I guess if you thought about it, in the realms of the nightmare world of Orwell's Big Brother, he would have found a nice office and pension plan waiting in The Ministry of ... ah ... Truth.