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It’s amazing to think that living rooms used to be organized around a carriage clock. Back when a 19″ TV was big and a 22″ considered nouveau riche, we’d all sit around staring at a painting waiting for time to pass.
What’s worse is that you can guarantee that clock’s not right. Time before cellphones was a vague concept. Every clock was slightly off by a random amount. Knowing if you were anywhere when you should be was impossible unless you could access CEEFAX, tune into Radio 4 or call the speaking clock.
Tula commands the room’s focal point with some skill. You can’t deny there’s some implied kink with her choosing to pose like a Labrador on a pillow in front of the fire. Her hair is long enough for it to be a “thing” rather than a missed haircut. Anyone lucky enough to court her is going to have stories about static I can promise you.
The downside is that you’re going to need a good job if you want to date her. Those tresses are a health and safety nightmare. She’s completely ruled herself out of working with heavy machinery or in food service (if she got a hair in your food you’d be trying to wipe it away and spit it out simultaneously).
I bet she’s worth it. Her parents would have asked her to cut it if her inheritance wasn’t secure.