GOOD ADVICE FOR VALENTINE # 11
by Valentine Deluxe
When I speak to you the harmonious world where the Great Mother Approved frolics, and wherein the vagaries and glitches facing the common man (the one that stagnates at the bottom of Style) have as much control over it that a butterfly frass organdy petticoat, my comments still call a severe reserve. For such
African elephant, whose tonnage is equivalent to the ego of a Grande Dame of middle age, it can indeed frolic as a territory in line with the amplitude of the rampant megalomania.
A Great Lady Approved during "high tonnage of the ego" .
Question "public", it is never a problem as no two strolling player, the more abundant, the better it is doing, all flourishing and shining in front of this audience dumbfounded by so many up and charisma.
But even then it has to be the only of its kind to stroll in the green pastures the variegated bombast ("emerald green", the acres, it goes without saying!)
That another lady enters the arena and it is the clash , the singular and bloody battle that will last word. A bit like pre-negotiations between government trainers in a small kingdom quite flat, with cathedrals unique mountains, and I dare say the name of fear of being more in tune with the current political community in recent hours. Plume but, alas, there is no issue with these animals. For
if two conditions sine qua non tease you for the bun (with plume) - and God knows it is sorely lacking in politics - what are the range of your vocabulary (and any bitter marmalade arsenic), and the lightning speed of your repartee!
Ready for the demonstration?
We come to the bar Kim Novak and Elizabeth Taylor in one of the most enjoyable scenes (and hilarious camp, it goes without saying) the Mirror Crack'd . Directed
of as flat a Guy HAMILTON absent subscribers, it enables us to find our two damsels in full terminally hasbeenization , just before they go away in a few cachetonner soap-operas the small screen.
Kim's face is like a re-tensioned drumhead, if by chance she had the unfortunate idea of forcing his smile, the stitching loose and ears fuseraient at the speed of a sputnik, risking to three deaths in the audience .
Miss TAYLOR-WARNER it - already ex-Mrs BURTON (2 times) / FISHER / WILDING / HILTON and widow TODD - then travels between two comings and goings at Betty Ford Center , where she keeps following year and where one has the good taste to match the color of the curtains with straps bed. The troublemakers
never comes alone, it is also in the midst of rampant bulimia (due to her constant movement to follow her husband senator's presidential campaign) and two fingers of the effect of "popcorn." The effect
popcorn ?!? ... But yes, you know, it's when the fat pads begin to protrude from the casing so uncontrollable, like a blob phase "conquer the world!
A fat bead of Liz Taylor, in phase "world conquest" .
For good measure the two hussies are also abused by a costume designer visibly addiction ethyl (poor Phyllis DALTON, though a little bald-winning gold for the suits Doctor Zhivago) , transforming in the first Easter egg decked out and the other a pot of forget-me as a head covering.
Fortunately for them, the plume is also a matter of language ... and theirs is that flowery bibi Liz:
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