Ceci n'est pas un Blip..(une Blip?)

Now, Im no expert on the language of The Gauls, but,

Is a blip Masculine, or Feminine?.....

(A little help,please, Raheny-Oeil?)

Anyhoo, back at the nebulous point of this whole exercise....

The pic is of a punter at the Food Market in Temple Bar, Dublin, today.
I dont really know her, but she looked cool, her husband is cool, her kids even had that almost indefinable pre-teen sang-froid allowed only to the spawn of impossibly chilled parental units.

I liked the look of her hat, her entire ensemble, the cut of her jib, and the fact that her purchase almost paid for my daily wage...
And she didnt object to me pointing The Beast at her.

Just to explain...

My current pecuniary flotation device, for those not in the know, is peddling organic fruit and vegetables for my homey D, in food markets all around Ireland.

And the craic is ninety...

The multi-leveled, chaotic, laughter-infected, acerbic, and utterly mental pre-sales set-up five-way confab at seven am this morning included.......

What she was like, sur duvet....
Quantum Theory (including the S.s "Cat In A Box Bit".....
The squishy mechanics of the making of octopus stew...
Why the fuck you would really bother with scozonera....
Evolution, Expansionism, and The End; Entropy....
Whether the brussels sprouts were fit for consumption, or is it T.B......
The amicable ethics of infidelity.....
The crass notion of Intelligent Life In The Environs Of Mullingar....

All this, before our first coffee of the day, between a Wicklow Hoor, An Italian Reshead, An Irish J. Depp Clone, and An Erudite But Inexperienced West-Brit Lothario.

Wouldn't you have to love it?