I was very tired when I drafted this post this morning, or should I say, yesterday morning; so tired I didn’t managed to get it published. So here it is . . .
I have been sneezing my head off, sniffling quite a bit and coughing. Allergies or have I caught Spouse’s cold?
Not sure, but I am going to curl up with fuzzy Puddie Cat with her V-8 engine purr and try to catch some ZZZZs.
But I shall not neglect you, my darlings.
Here is one of my favorite shots of Lucas in Action Man Mode. I wonder–does he hold his hands in such a manner when he runs in order to deliver a karate chop to anyone who gets in the way? Or possibly to fend off any crazed fangurls who get too close? Does it somehow increase his speed? He certainly looks focused and determined to catch the bad guy/defuse the bomb/rescue his fellow agent.
I always felt safer when Lucas and Ros, kitted out in their cool denim and leather, were out taking care of business. Yes, even though I am not British and they technically don’t exist–the world seemed in better order with the Dynamic Duo in action.
But I know what your attention is drawn to. The Prize Thighs. So muscular they are straining the material of his black jeans. Poetry in motion, ladies and gentlemen.
Lucas,you can come speeding to my rescue any old time you like. (I know the whole Bateman thing was just a very bad dream and you are still alive and well and as hot and heroic as ever.)