Blimey!
Remember when chavscum shops were hiding their vouyeristic clerks in laundry baskets in babes bathrooms on the offchance that the Pretty might need shampoo?
They've gone one better now, and brought it out into the open!
Forget shampoo - as the sultry siren slides from her bath, a-glistening with essensual oils and wearing naught but a dreamy smile, she naturally reaches for the mouthwash...
...when a pervy pianist whose been ogling her amusing herself in the tub, suddenly strikes up blues tunes. Blues tunes? Blue movies, more like! And how come she didn't notice a big black bloke and big black grand piano in her bewhitened bathroom?
Perhaps she was blinded by the brightness of his BLUE shirt!
And, just like the knickersniffer in the linen basket, she doesn't bat an eyelid at the unannounced presence of an all seeing Ray Charles tinlking in her bathroom... but if I snuck into some pretties bathroom with me Casio Keyboard and started ebony & invorying away as she nudily slids out of the shower, I'd get a slap in the face and made to sign some sort of register.
As usual, it's one rule for a blues brother, and another for me...
