BBJane Warning: Valentine darling, I can not thank you enough for this article so obliging to my modest person. I am especially sorry for the outage that affects unfortunately my image server, and which forbids me to illustrate your point with consistency required ... I do not even speak of relationships, which completely shambles ... It's stupid, huh? ... (Your Rat, tonight, you want to grill or pan ?...)
GOOD ADVICE FOR VALENTINE # 10
by Valentine Deluxe
My children, the situation is serious!
I rapped on the knuckles by my editor.
If you've already faced BBJane Ms. Hudson when she is in one of his moods "chestnuts," you would know that "dictator-in-chief" is a title more in keeping with the fluctuating nature of this harpy. In its good days, she is haughty and odious, but its bad, it is worse!
The reason for these complaints? ... It seems I'm too long! ... J'vous requires some ! ...
Are we criticized BALZAC or HUGO to 15 pages on the description of a glass of water? Imagine you lay Tolstoi "War and Peace" on a piece of cloth? ... MELVILLE scribbling "Moby Dick" on a label can of sardines? No? ... Well then, let me be left in peace!
Honore de Balzac (left) and Victor Hugo (right)
But as she also takes care of stewardship, I'm afraid it has some negative impact on the canteen in the coming days.
In my opinion, I'll still have things that wriggle in the bottom of my plate and if it is only gaspard, I can already consider myself very fortunate to have meat!
In addition, she blames me a lot of stuff with big words: "syntax", "punctuation", "sequence" ... do I know? ... long as there's Panache! ...
Well, it seems it is not enough. I must get its act together, that I structure, that I breakfast robertise , lest the cantankerous out of his toolbox torches and boots, and I work diligently to fashion "Holy Inquisition".
That my faith, if it was done with taste (I dare not write "Panache"), and if I drank more than reason, I do not say no. It is further necessary that the har does not lace and faded in the toilet water lily!
Torture torquémadienne for Valentine
Come on, my indulgence is legendary and without limit, we will try to spare the poor dear old thing: Let short.
(I did say "try", eh !...)
That's Valentine ... Play yard ... it will be supreme ...
So, first, the method! Come straight to the point: subject, verb, object.
Finishes preambles, digressions, parentheses endless, let us stick to our subject. And he
tonight / this morning / this afternoon (you just when you want, you are at home here) could not be more pragmatic: The
ablutions.
Yes! You attend these columns long enough now not to make you fail as snow geese on something as basic, as I m'use health column after column you repeat that true Grande Dame licensed knows no rest. It must always be careful, do not sleep with one eye and ear alert.
And every day and every night of his glamorous life, to avoid the traps and vicious fangs-in-leg petty mediocrity that daily low-setting works the vital functions of our body gives him constantly. (Aside Jacques Mayol I do not see anyone capable of telling me this phrase on one breath!)
Thus, personal hygiene - like the other subjects already covered by your house specialist - can not endure half-measure.
In Valentine, the problem does not arise: I have no bladder or bowels, and I sweat of Chanel No. 5!
But everyone was not so lucky. You
example, imagine you're surrounded (e) of noisy brats trying to scratch the rind, the ass in a sink tub, in a scullery filthy fleet where a panel of subtle fragrances from the laundry musty rancid cabbage? ... Nooooooon!
So, to take a lesson from scouring cooler, I suggest you return to the Domus Aurea my previous column, to find our beautiful empress at the time of his toilet. It features
this time the features of the divine Claudette Colbert any decadent and pleasure, which is currently soaking in a tub like did not even have Esther Williams for his wanderings in aquatico-gymnastics 10-year career at Metro Goldwyn Mayer.
Claudette Colbert
Behind the camera is equally lavish, because we have the king of the epic and the cathode prudish hypocrisy, the hyperbolic Cecil B. DeMille, who here offers a curious adaptation unofficial QUO VADIS of SIENKIEWICZ (copyrights were still running in 1932 ...), under the pompous title of The Sign of the Cross .
And as usual, under the false pretext give us a history lesson on uplifting the lives of early Christians (he excised the passage and against all odds, the traditional happy ending), the undisputed master of the blockbuster St. Sulpice Made in Hollywood reconstitutes meticulously to our wondering eyes the most beautiful range of exotic and killing pagan orgies never daring on a movie screen.
If not this particular aspect of work I deal with today (do not worry, I will return to this aspect of the film in Pretties a forthcoming stammers), you can enjoy the passage to get an idea of what it was even allowed to set during this enchanted images, suitable for all bawdy most scabrous, known as the pre- code era.
Yes! because not only, ogled well, you can see a bit of tit surreptitiously his Imperial Highness - sublime vision as far as subliminal - but again, the same kind of Poppea is not prude, she welcomes in her bathtub ( notice, there's room) that one or the other ugly cafteuse of her friends who came to him to make his report venomous at the time of the toilet.
Less than 2 years later, alas, that damn code Hayes will make this kind of joy overflows Pellicula non grata in the western capital of cinema.
When the film emerged a few years later, the scene we'll see in a moment - the moment I'm determined to shut up for good, since, should remind you, I'm sworn to short today - moreover suffered the outrage of scissors avengers worshipers MPPC (the "Motion Picture Production Code" for those who had not picked up).
The censors will definitely never Friends of the Great Lady Panachée!
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