TOO UGLY

Passeth understanding, I know.

Beautiful People have thumbed me down. Vous croyez?

I shudder for ces beaux-là.

Can you imagine how the Corfucian Irregulars will react?

The wrath of Puella?

By the Dildo of Aphrodite! The face that launched 1,000 attaques domaines  will know no rest until the honour of her Closet Adorer is avengèd. I feel so sorry for them.

The Spitfire? She'll be spitting. She'll rally the troops and a million Mean Gurl nymphettes will sign up, each heatier and pertier bosom'd than the previous.

The 'judges', not believing their luck, will cream their jeans and zap them thru for the delectation of the rest of the drooling beauté-challenged membership.

Dude! Once in, this Trojan Fille Jeroboam of Jailbait Jezebels will wreak such havoc that ... it bears not thinking on't.

From his Olympian heights, Mountain Man will whip off a tidy tool that will ... there is no God.

I feel like sending them an advance apology for their rejection.

SINBAD ALERT

That Badass! He sure keeps me on the run.

See his comment. Reads like a review in Connoisseur.

Quotheth lui:

"This faux poll of self serving clones would've turned down:

Helen

All three Graces

V de M (no arms)

Both Majas.

Velasquez' Venus (bottom's a bit big)

Manet's Olympia (no nudity permitted)

Gauguin's Manao Tupapau

And the Déjeuner lady in the park."

Nat Trust Trollopes: They know what you're thinking - but it's art, isn't it?

Phew! I think I got 'em all right.

Very messy but y'all sort it all out, good test.

But you know, that's the sort of thing I expected from my busking pupils:

"Surprise me - dare to boldly strum where the other gutter plunkers don't not even think.

Ayup, imagine I'm Lord Muck, here I come in my pin-stripes and bowler, furled brolly and FT.

Heard it all from you lot - whiney Dylan, folksy Seeger, calypsotic Kingston Trio.

I'm not even listening."

Mix it people: 'April in Portugal', 'Chattanooga', bit of Burl Ives, Lonnie Donegan, the Beatles they dont play like 'Rain' or a cover of 'Dja wanna know a secret?'; 'La vie en rose' instrumental, 'Spanish Harlem'.

No Free Munch: You think I wine dine n compline at Tonino's because I've got a cougar Mrs Robinson bankrolling moi?

I fucking get out there and I strum strum strum and I read the punters and listen and watch and I croon 'em what gets them tossing the pennies.

Elbow Grease: A little bit of work doesn't hurt"

(Ouch! Work, chief? Leave off)

Why not?

Look at this page: started off as a bitch abaht them Beautiful Peeps turning down my handsome mug.

The Cardinal comments in with a list of class-act daubers.

He's put some thought in, now it's my turn.

I do some links and some pics and b'boum!

Bloody good page.

Summat I could send to my kids with a

"Yo, daughters, gather round! It's not all gardening out here, I do art classes too."

Goya: talk about serendipity. All this hounding over Goya has reminded me of a poem I learned at school to annoy the English master who wanted us to memorise more classical stuff.

It was either Kingsley Amis or Ferlinghetti so I chose the Goya poem to read for the school poetry comp, judged by some flowing-locked aesthete down from the Smoke.

I did not win but the American dad of someone in another house stopped me after and expressed surprise that LF was even known "over here". I gave him my quizzical look as if to say He's NOT known "over here", he's known to ME.

Them Penguin Modern Poets, doncha know? Marvelous series for a young man going thru a heavy poetic stage. I wrote hundreds of poems and kept winning school comps because no one else entered or those that did copied and were caught.

Writing of wins, I now totally own Sinbad who didn't know of the LF poem and has just posted a cheery comment.

See for yourself - this Beaut Peeps post is starting to really rock.

Dept of If They Could See me Now: As I slouched around the school doing my Peng Mod Poetasting thang, there was one master who, altho' he never actually taught *me*, did teach English to others and was a pompous busybody no one liked.

It's all coming back. He'd make snide remarks about my choice of reading. I should have told him, "You can mock me now, sir, but one day I'm going impress the dickens out of Lord Sinbad of Kora-sur-Brum. Zounds, that'd've made him change his tune.

He always wore his Gonville & Caius gown on every occasion - the other masters thought he was a bit of a joke - and if we weren't mispronouncing it Kye-Us we were calling it Gonzo and Keys.

One boy was sent to his housemaster for disrespect for saying 'gonzo'. Apparently the house master (who didnt like Mr Peters) questioned him sternly,

"Now let me get this straight, you expressed disrespect for Mr Peters' Cambridge college. What exactly did you say?" "I called it Gonzo and Caius, sir?" "I'm sorry, come again? ... ah, you mispronounced it 'gonzo'. Hmm ... god god, man, I thought you'd been putting it about that he was a Sydney Sussex man! On your way - and how's the batting average? Keeping steady? Want you on form for Lancing. Cut along now."

STOP PRESS:

The power of bloggery!

Word clearly reached the faux polling self-serving clones because just this moment into my InBox has plopped:

"Dear Chris,

Your BeautifulPeople profile has been successfully activated.

During the next 48 hours your profile will be rated by the existing members of the opposite sex.

If the majority finds your profile attractive, you will be granted coveted membership ..."

So all that Out/In chart stuff was just to scare me.

STOP STOP PRESS

Sinbad was right: Looks Fail.

"Dear chris,

Unfortunately, your application to BeautifulPeople Network was not successful.

The members of BeautifulPeople did not find your profile attractive enough.

Please note, only one in five applicants are currently accepted into BeautifulPeople.com.

BeautifulPeople welcomes you to apply again, perhaps with a better photo or a more interesting profile text.

To modify the contents of your profile and resubmit it for rating, simply follow these quick steps: etc etc"