Disaster. One half of us (Sian) has gone away for the weekend. I’m worried. 21 stickers a day on my own? I think I might have to have a little cry. I also don’t think my employer will accept this nonsense as a valid reason for some emergency annual leave. Sigh. Groan. Weep.
But before I commence disintegrating into a burnt out husk of a man, here’s a little selection of today’s pictorial shambles…
What a pretty pair. Admir Mehmedi is one handsome devil, so why not lose yourself in his benign and benevolent gaze? And that smirk is adorable. I’ve just watched him chasing French shadows for 90 minutes, during which he looked much, much less happy. Thiago Silva is looking a little bit miffed about something… maybe he had money on England?
More wrong faces. De Bruyne looks about eleven years old (whereas in reality, he looks at least thirteen), while Candreva’s leer makes him seem like he’s trying way too hard to not look hugely threatening, thus achieving the complete opposite. Shudder.
Aaaah. This is never going to end, is it?
If you’re enjoying this blog, or even if you return each day out of sheer morbid curiosity, why not tell a friend? They might like to keep track of our slow but inevitable mental collapse as the deadline draws near.
Oh God, I just realised that I miscounted how many stickers we’d done yesterday. This is a worry. We’ve now done 185, meaning there’s 454 to go.
454 to go.
FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR TO GO.
Must. Go. Draw.