Monday 14 May 2012

Inky thinky

I've got an inkling you don't wash.. Is what a boy would say to me if I ever went near one.
Lucky I don't, as I've had an ink stain the size of Bob's whole bruise collection dimpling my thigh for an eternity.
This is what it looked like on Sunday.











This is what it looks like on Friday. Two weeks later.







What am I to do?



It took at least five minutes to take a photo of it that didn't look like porn or cellulite*.

p.s I can't remember. Is this blog meant to be about cooking? I think I only ever have recipes for disaster. Don't replicate.

*disclaimer: I have neither.

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