More and more Stormy stuff, I should have had an unboxing video:
Picking up the bag in the "drop zone"...
Don't go anywhere, Nola, there's a picture in there for you. He's insistent that I frame it and send it off, I'm thinking this is a pretty good compromise...
But first, to get through all the accompanying rubbish:
Spice jars, the world's filthiest T-Shirt (probably from his own collection) and...?
For my son, Norma Jean's lighter. Yep. I'm pretty sure it was her favorite...
Xmas trash...
More trash, with dedications...
Yep, he forgets no one. Suffice it to say that it continues in this vein for an interminable length of time, unwrapping what could most generously be described as "trash". I don't think he ever takes out the garbage, he just bags it up and gifts it to me. So - on the the Art for Nola - Miss Weedy Iberia, which made me laugh because it's such a plausible Nelson Name...
And, finally, the mandatory Easter Food Treat. I don't eat the food treats.
***
Now, Nola - he knows your birthday and wants me to provide his some pictures of you so he can start working on your Birthday Present. I suspect it will be very good. Unfortunately I don't have any photos of you handy. So - small request - could you possibly send me 5 or 6? You know his favorite poses by now, if you're using a coffee mug as a prop don't fill it with coffee, you'll burn yourself. And I wouldn't get a Stormy Tattoo, merely draw his twin lightening bolts on your thigh with permanent marker.