|J'ai une secret
Mon dieu, that Sir Lionel, 'ee is a bâtard magnifique! And his little boy is so....
bald. No matter! He is small, and adorable, and doubtless will one day be rich; and thus I shall attempt to encourage a friendship entre our two houses.
I don't care what Jacques says, if Sir Lionel can help us keep our adorable little boy, I shall be forever grateful
. I admit, it was awkward when les gendarmes sont arrivés. J'etais toute confusée
! And I meant to name the petit garçon after mon père. But Secretaire will do.
Secretaire Le Duc. Mon fils extraordinaire! My darling little cabbage. And he will grow up big, and strong, and hopefully without any tentacles or disturbing tendancies towards having extra limbs; despite the IFO dans le basement.
Today on the way home from the market, a tres bizarre thing happened. The sky became filled with fire balls! At first we thought it was les Americains misfiring their missles again, but it was a meteor shower.
Mathilde and I were in the Peugot and we were forced to pull off the road. When we did, we heard a sound from the field. It sounded like a wounded animal. But non, it was a petit garcon!
Mathilde insists we must take him home... Current Mood: quelle surprise!
|quelque personne rescuuuuuuuez-moi!
Toto, we're not in Kansas. I seem to have landed somewhat east of my intended destination.
Twenty five light years, and you always end up asking for directions. And you know, *damn* that hurt. I mean, sure, breaking up is hard to do, but man, you haven't broken up till you've scattered your component parts across fifteen miles of -- where the hell are we anyway?
The Stork isn't answering. Figures. Guess it's changing the brat's diapers.
Oh, hey. Check out the guy at twelve o'clock in the skeezy truck and black beret. Current Mood: confused