It's all a pretence. These moths have been fornicating on my parlour wall since breakfast. It's only in the last hour that they've deigned to detach, and I've had the opportunity to photograph them without looking like some kinda arthropod pornographer.
It's not that I'd object to their wanton ways, except that I have a strong suspicion that it's not going to end here. I ain't seeing any prophylactics about their persons, and when I asked them ten minutes ago where they were planning to lay their eggs, Dolores (the moth to the north) looked sort of shifty, and Raoul (the moth to the south) tried distracting me with talk of interest rates.
2 comments:
You have a parlour?
What do you do in it, apart from watch live moth s*x acts on stage?
Oh, the usual. Serve lamingtons, foment revolutions, entertain next door's cats.
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