forensic football
Observed today in the Sydney Morning Herald- front page pic, sports page pic.
You have to be forensic about this, like the pale faced orderly looking at the spread entails of a man disemboweled; laid out in a glistening array on the steel table he had already washed three times this day. Like Eastern Suburbs, the latest in a number of serial killings this season.
In the first photograph, the same forensic examination applies. Here are three men – Greg the superb Inglis, Big Sam Burgess, and young George Burgess, all coming out of the sheds to handshake the fans. In the second picture Sam has disappeared, and Roy from security is in the shot.
– Roy is smiling, and looking a little protective about his sensitive areas. You know why?
Because Smiling Sam Burgess is giving him a Moroccan Handshake as he passes by, and Roy has gone all coy.
That’s one big fucking hand down there by his wedding tackle, and I, for one, would be seriously flinching.
Like all good things, you have to look close; there’s an orphan arm behind GI, and a cupped palm down by Roys’ personals; that’s Sammy the joker’s big hand gone for a gonad tickle – I have it on authority.
The sly pommie bastard.
Thank you Brendan Esposito for the shot (today’s SMH)
go bunnies
petebowes.com 
That’s a rabbitoh for you . . .
that’s a photographer for you …
PK .. you’d know about the photographer Edith Tudor Hart, I’ve got a question about one of her photos.