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The often dubious, politically incorrect and mainly humorous musings of Ms Jane Turley, (Ex) Housewife Extraordinaire.

A Personal Picture Post

Well I don’t normally do these kind of intimate posts. But today is an exception. This is because I was up in our loft room having a bit of a tidy-up and came across some old photos of me and thought Yippee-Do I can make a quick blog post of this! (Sincerity is my middle name.) 

So folks, this will be a deeply revealing pictorial post about me rather than a written one which really is rather lucky for you lot cos normally deeply revealing blog posts from writers involve hideous tales about depression, failed relationships and fifteen-year struggles to publish debut novels after twenty billion rejection letters and amputation below the knee.

Or something like that anyway.

So lets get on with it!

One of my more flattering shots taken at Halloween around 2006/7. Not many children come
to visit me anymore. I am so sad about that.
Evidence that my ability to burn anything started a long, long time ago. This was me on my birthday which fell on a Shrove Tuesday in around 1984.
Me and Mr T at a New Year’s Party back in the early 2000s. I made the masks which drew favourable comparisons to
our real selves….

God I look good. This one was taken in about 2004 when obviously I still looked hot and had pert breasts.

I’m on the left in the leopard skin. Pulling faces is second nature to me. Here it was at university
in a production of The Country Wife in about 1984/5

So there you have it. A deeply revealing post featuring some of my most photogenic shots.

Ho hum.

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2 responses

  1. It works, Wendy. It works! After about 3/4 years of scaring you will never get any trick or treaters as they are all too terrified to come near your house.

    I chased some trick or treaters down the road in my blood-swamped costumes and knife once (okay probably more than once) I think that accelerated the fear factor. Now I get to eat all the Halloween chocolate myself. That's what I call success.

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