I’ve long maintained that “Baby Leopard” should be someone’s nickname. And now that the following daguerreotype has been loaded down onto and into my Internet computer keyboard and attached reflective screen, I am even more steadfast in that belief …
You can often identify a Great Man of History by the pearl-handled revolver he keeps tucked in his spats or the unfailing fact that, when posting for photographic images, he places the fingers of his dominant hand, which are sturdy but conclusively not hot-doggish, just within the lapels of his camelhair topcoat, between the fourth and fifth gold lamé buttons. In the absence of such evidence, you can identify a Great Man of History by the heirloom chalice in his grasp, the baby leopard on his arm and the brassy paid whore in his memory. That right-wise John McGraw, he was a Great Man of History!
The lesson, lads? One does not simply walk into Mordor. Unless one is John McGraw.
H/T: The lot of you, really.
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