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Athletic family genes but don't play sport these days.
Seeking respectable white wife and children ... before it's too late.
All I need is one woman and if I can protect her from runaway buses and aircraft disasters, she should hopefully last quite a while in functional condition. For this reason, please don't be accident prone. It will be extremely hard to find a replacement given how hard it already is to find the original. The last thing I want is some doofus falling off the back of the horse-drawn carriage after the wedding ceremony and cracking her head on the cobbles, never to be heard from again.
I'd be furious, believe me, and probably do one of those primal screams. The horses would spook, knocking two in-laws out cold and trampling my nephew's latest transformer. His counterattack against the steeds with a nearby pot plant would put them to flight and before I knew it I'd be clinging desperately to a runaway carriage across the countryside.
Three miles later we'd be tearing through woodlands and hunters, mistaking the horses for stags, would open fire. As bullets zipped by, I would then be forced to return fire with the coach-gun we'd stashed behind the carriage seat on the off chance highway robbers had ambushed us on the way to the honeymoon B&B. Firing the gun, tears would pour as I catch glimpse of the double barrels engraved with our names, entwined with roses and turtledoves, a gift from my father-in-law!
And now, finding themselves in a deadly gun battle, the hunters realise this is no party of stags, and spotting the 'Just Married' sign half hanging from the back of the carriage, decide that I've murdered the bride and groom and made off with the wedding gifts. They call in the law and minutes later a police chopper is on my six, the sniper taking potshots through the tree canopy. One by one the wooden carriage wheels are shot from the carriage in a burst of splinters, as I instantly regret ordering the Renaissance replica and not the iron clad Victorian model.
Rounding a bend, the carriage slides out of control and crashes into a gushing river, smashing to pieces upon an ill-placed group of rocks ... and all goes black, and cold, as my lifeless body washes down stream like a discarded ragdoll, head bashing into branches and boulders, before finally being lost in the raging waters, never to be seen again ... until it bobs up a few days later and some scavengers pick it apart on the bank.
Here are some interests lists, see if we share anything.
Visual artists >
European sculptors in general until the 20th century
Top famous frauds to avoid: Picasso, Van Gogh, Matisse, anybody from New York (except cartoonist Percy Crosby).
Euro folk and art music ('classical') mainly
British folk song
Purcell (Dido's Lament)
Chopin (Op. 64 no.2)
Chesnokov (Eternal Council)
Rimsky Korsakov (Song of the Indian Guest)
Elgar (Cello concerto)
Bulgarian singing is also intriguing
I played guitars for many years, then picked up some piano, then a little woodwind, a little less cornet/trombone ... these days I'm focusing on violin/viola and vocal technique. Then I got given a cello ... so ... bloody hell.
Medieval/Ancient European texts and political material mainly.
History of the Kings of Britain
I am trying to learn Welsh off and on, but it's hard without somebody to speak it with. If you're a Saxon conqueror still in possession of a Welsh slave, I'll pay for shipping.
Vids of my drawing studies this year >
Just started posting studies again >
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