In my next life I’d like to be a woman with calves like duckpins.
I’m seeing a lot of such calves on this cruise that I’m on. The women who own them seem to have more stability and be more stable than the rest of us ladies here on board. More ‘planted’, sort of, like the legs of the big grand piano at the Schooner Bar where the red-haired Irish lady sings each night.
They kind of roll with the ship whereas the rest of us scrawny-calved gals skitter around like sandpapers on our drinking-straw legs. We seem plain doomed to topple, kind of like these guys below. (Go 18 seconds in to hear the soundtrack. Love it!)