To Win the Hand of a Celebrity Cheftrix
which was met with competition from one of my friends on twitter.
Naturally not wanting to back down and be seen as feeble I accepted the challenge. The gauntlet had been thrown down as they say, and as the challenger had issued the competition, so as not to appear uncouth I followed protocol and chose the weapon. My choice wouldn’t be something so barbaric as pistols at dawn, or whiskey fuelled fisticuffs. It was something refined, universal in practice and application: art.
Which I thought was fair… Everyone does three years of art school, two of Graphic Design and has a lifetime of practice up their sleeve, right!?
But what to draw? Only something majestic, at thing of purest beauty which would inspire fear and desire in the hearts of all who look upon it would do…
So obviously there was only one possible subject; a unicorn T-Rex with a jet pack that shoots out rainbows. This would show Nigella which of us truly deserved her.
Apparently my competitor was taken somewhat by surprise;
i wasn’t going to let this absurdity fly in the face of the great and respected tradition of art-duelling.
Unfortunately the subject of this piece (whilst being beautifully rendered) was some kind of terrifying polymorphic techno-chimera, which was primarily the wrong species (being that it is mainly a comprised of the body and features of what appears to be a Ceratopsian – decidedly not a Tyrannosaurid) This seemingly deliberate artistic choice not only flew right in the face of the standing rules of the duel, but also technically disqualified the artwork. i felt it my duty to inform my opponent of this in a curt but still intimidating manner – in the hopes that i might throw him off his game.
And just as quickly as it began it had finished, some might say that the better man withdrew upon seeing both the fruitlessness of the endeavour and noticing his efforts would be better spent elsewhere ensnaring a newly single actress/model, i prefer to say the scoundrel slunk away in a scoundrelly fashion to ensnare a newly single actress/model, like a scoundrel.
Either way here is my entry, which by the merits of sportsmanship and master artistry (and mainly default) saw me triumphantly claim something parallel to victory.
… i am yet to hear from Ms. Lawson.
Here’s a clean version with no swears in it, because think of the children.