Until earlier this week I had a dream of running away to Buenos Aires, but even the foreign office advises against that now. In that case, perhaps the traditional thing to do would be join the foreign legion. Perhaps they have an artist’s squadron I could join, where I can sit around drinking espressos and smoking gaulette’s with fine-honed military precision, drilled into me by fierce sculptor-sergeants.
Gaulette? Is that a cross between a Galette and a Gauloise? Biscuit flavoured smokes, yummy.
Rather like a lounge lizard version of the Concert Party, without the concerts, hmm?
You must resist the biscuit-flavour cigarette! Re-sist! RE-SIST!!