Fame and fortune (well...fame at any rate) has paid another visit on 'Your's truly' and it's brought yet another disturbing photograph along with it, to adorn the cupboard doors of female archaeology students everywhere. This time it's my acqualine profile that's on offer. (And for your information, the 'chiselled' look is out...the 'slightly jowelly, a little bit podgy' look is in.) I deliberately chose the 'staring hard into a force ten gale trying not to let the fact that my eyes were watering phase me' expression, because it's bound to make the ladies go weak at the knees.
Actually, we covered the potential Roman columns bit at this site a few weeks ago, although, I have to admit, Tom Halstead followed up on the research a bit more than I did by actually contacting Walter Scott Jr. in person. (I will get in touch with him myself at some point...it's just that I've got excavations to organise, fans throwing their knickers at me and other important stuff to sort out right now.) Tom also spoke to the treasurer of Ribchester Historical Society, which I should have done really, but, come on, I'm doing the best I can:
Actually, we covered the potential Roman columns bit at this site a few weeks ago, although, I have to admit, Tom Halstead followed up on the research a bit more than I did by actually contacting Walter Scott Jr. in person. (I will get in touch with him myself at some point...it's just that I've got excavations to organise, fans throwing their knickers at me and other important stuff to sort out right now.) Tom also spoke to the treasurer of Ribchester Historical Society, which I should have done really, but, come on, I'm doing the best I can:
Once again, cheers to Tom Halstead at the Evening Gazette for running the article and giving both Wyre Archaeology and Fleetwood's local history another boost. (I'm just waiting for the television contract at the moment.) I can only assume Carol's off sick from work today because I haven't had any phone calls consisting of twenty minutes of maniacal laughter yet...
13 comments:
Oprah beckons.
And I gesture crudely at her in respone.
You'll need to have everything monogrammed with M.W soon, Brian :P
Seriously, well done!
The more exposure, the better (fingers crossed) any future grants/funding might be.
Jayne,
Monogrammed with M.W? The estate of Mortimer Wheeler would immediately sue.
Jayne, you should not mention exposure and Brian in the same comment, he's on probabtion for his little problem.
M.W = Media Wh*re, Brian :P
Ahh ok, thanks Jenn, I thought the padlocked mouthguard had fixed that little issue but obviously not :P
Jayne (or to be more formal, Miss Mansfield) our Broyann is known to most of his friends (and more especially to his victims) as the Hannibal, the Lecher of Fleetwood.
Ahhh thank you for the clarification Lord Sedgers.I'd best watch myself else I lose my head :P
Just for the public record, I'd like it known that the incident involving the goat and the Ramblers Association was massively blown out of proportion. (Watch it Sedgwick. I know you can't resist responding to any 'blown out of proportion' comments, but just remember this is a family site.) I was simply helping the aforementioned goat out of a gully when my trousers fell down and Mrs. Tallywacker (leading the Carlisle Over 60's All Female Rambling Club) unexpectedly turned the corner. Nothing more than a confusing situation, that's all. Certainly not something that required the 16 page pull-out special in the Lancashire Chronicle, that's for certain.
I've known many a goat who belonged to Rambling clubs...
Not the Over 60's Rambling Club though Jayne...this one was Billy the Kid.
Isn't that Michelle's hat?
Bella,
That's my hat. Michelle's got her own. Actually, the hat I had on in the 'Indiana Hughes' photograph a couple of weeks ago was Michelle's hat, which I was asked to wear because it looked more like Indiana Jones's than mine did. The one in this particular article is my proper archaeology hat, an old and valuable friend that's been licked by more cows over the years than Bill Clinton has.
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