All Milt's Fault

That's not fair. Milt is an innocent man. This time. Relatively speaking.

If truth be told, this is all my husband's fault, because he found the clip and shared - even if he then decided it was too daft even for his own blog.

No, the only connection to dear Milt is that this lady bears a striking resemblance to his beloved Miss Rosebury, or whatever her name was. I have unsuccessfully surfed his site today looking for a link and shall slap his wrists - he needs one of those Technorati search thingies so I can find the specific post easier, to humiliate him with less effort.

So, before you attest to the fact that you are over eighteen and click the link below, here are a few things to take into consideration (because, as I discovered, if they cross your mind as horrifying thoughts after the fact, you end up watching for hours, twisting your head sideways and cricking your neck, to confirm or deny them):

1. Yes he's alive and real and not inflatable. At one brief point he actually moves his arms voluntarily. Blink and you'll miss it.
   
2. No they're not - he's in shorts and she's in panties (but it takes a few odd head angles to work that out)
3. Yes, the furniture is on legs, but they are very small legs and it is doubtful that any small furry mammals (cats, guinea pigs etc) were hiding underneath and accidentally killed in the making of this clip.

OK you have been warned. The only questions left:

• Milt, is that really you?
  
• If not, is that really her?
  
• If she flapped her arms any harder or carried less, erm, ballast, would she take off? Answers in the comments, please.
  

Oh, one last thing. Turn on your speakers. It's the Birdie Song and it kind of goes with.

HERE.