I have owned my 20" Box Canvas Print of Paul Ross for several years now. Somehow, no room in my home seemed quite large enough to accommodate the incomparable awesomeness that is radiated by this magnificent image in all its 20" of high definition greatness. So I put it in the loft, where it has remained untouched since new.



Imagine my shock, horror and indeed terror the other day when I ventured into said loft to seek out the receipt and guarantee for a Teasmade that I had purchased in 1973 which has broken-down after only 43 years of VERY LIGHT use and the Maglight torch - which I had gaffer-taped to the top of my head - penetrated the gloom, illuminating the now HIDEOUS countenance seemingly oozing from my previously GORGEOUS 20" Box Canvas Print of Paul Ross.



What had once been the image of a man in the full bloom of youth, virile, attractive (to both the fair, and the not-so-fair sex if I may make so bold even in this age of open-mindedness and understanding of such matters), had now transformed into the portrait of a ghastly, bloated fiend, His once-fine features ravaged by debauchery, indulgence and excess, radiating menace and loathsome decay, whilst at the same time serving as a dire warning to any who might be tempted to stray down the path of hedonism.



Thank goodness that unlike my 20" Box Canvas Print, the real Paul Ross has retained his fresh, untainted youthful looks.