Quant à moi, peu dormi, vidé, brimé

C’est le 14 juillet, et nous célébrons les déesses républicaines françaises telles que Marianne et… euh…

Liberté, Egalité, Sororité!

Bon, je pense que ça suffit pour la langue française aujourd’hui.

Captions with a vaguely French connection, anyway.

Paris is famous for its stylish leather goods.
One from my ‘advice to a US sub visiting Europe‘ occasional series, obviously. The caption is deliberately misleading: the French insist on following their own local food customs, so you’ll probably find yourself swallowing butts from unfiltered Gauloises, rather then some mild ‘low tar’ cigarettes.

As the label might indicate to even the most male-brained reader, this is of course the magnificent, elegant and beautiful Ibicella, who can be found, worshipped and, ideally, donated to at the address shown. And here she is being adorable.

You might not learn many words in French, but you’ll be really good on everyday (and every hour, minute and second) politeness.

And do I really need to mention this is Mistress Eleise? Look, I like maple syrup as much as the next slave, but I can tell you: it is not Canada’s greatest export. I’ve tried both.

Her dungeon doesn’t actually have a view of the Tour Eiffel, you understand. It doesn’t have a view of anything.
There are actually plusieurs esclaves, but they are all much the same.
Or maybe they’re just trying to make things more interesting for the ladies.

P.S. Allez les Bleus! Mais aussi les lions anglais…

P.P.S. OK, so the Bleus didn’t really allez. Or not as much as the Spanish went ándale ándale ándale anyway. So to cheer up any depressed frenchmen – or heterosexual males of any sort, I imagine – here’s the lovely Ibicella, being patriotic.

Lap dogs to a slip of a girl

It’s funny: in a few weeks he’ll probably be complaining it’s too hot, staked out there on a lovely summer day with the honey and sweat running off his skin and the ants tickling his face.

 

 
 

 

I tried a self-help book once.  Apparently my feelings of inadequacy aren’t real.  Oh right – so what have I been paying all that tribute for, over the years, then?  Silly book.
Good thing she decided not to wash her hair, as she hates saying no to people.

 

 

A survey of the male employees found 82% of them consider the new dress code unbearably humiliating.  Management are working hard to think of something they can do to respond: 18% of males not feeling constantly mortified is simply unacceptable in a truly inclusive workplace.

 

 

Just don’t leave your used jodhpurs lying around.