Curious

It occurs to me that I talk with...converse is maybe a better word...with lots of people here on Blogger on a regular basis, and I don't know what they look like. Well, some have pictures of themselves here, but for the most part, they have symbols. And, of course, nor do I---no, I am not really a roach...physically, that is. Way back on Journal Space, I had my photo posted for a while, and then decided it was just too...something...id(me)(ish)? But, I've decided to share an image of me, once again. Don't feel that you need to reciprocate, unless you are female, and the photo is dans le nu (butt naked).

Anyway here I am:



Oops, no that's the "Beav" me, at eight. Cute little devil, wasn't I? WASN'T I??

I know, what you want is the manly, manly me of today. But I refuse to take off my clothes, so we'll have to compromise with a bust shot---don't go there, Punch. What that means to you non-artsy media types is, a head shot---AND, definitely don't go THERE, ANYBODY.

Here I am, all grown up and in my Sunday stay-home-from-church outfit. It was given to me by my mother-in-law, and maybe now you can understand why I have a contract out on her. Nevertheless, the clothes do not make the man. And I think you can see why my wife does not want me to go to church with her.



You'll have to agree that I've aged well.

Cute big devil, aren't I.