Eddie is playing his guitar, as usual. I don't recognise the tune. "Did you make that up?" I ask admiringly. "No, I WROTE it. I COMPOSED it."
Silly mother.
Check out this post, from Stompergirl. "If Victoria Beckham chooses to turn herself into a toothpick in designer threads, I suppose that is her prerogative. But how dare she pretend to also have a rounded luscious arse?" He he he.
Go visit, and click on the links to some great clips from Dove. It's a fine bit of marketing...they got me.
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3 comments:
Well, I suppose writing and making up are two different things. I mean, it's all semantics. Right?
Thanks for the link, Pixie. Enjoyed your blog too but have had trouble getting in to comment so pardon my lateness and let's blame Google.
Hope your son is still making up I mean composing lovely music for you.
Stompergirl. (can't link. Blogger hates me today)
Your own Composer ...that's a priviledge.
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