A short by Paul Cabon in which, at dinner with his father and uncles, a lushly coiffed young man begins to suspect the destiny that lies in store for him. To wit:
Être chauve ça craint, savoir qu’on va le devenir c’est pire.
But are things really so grim?
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Relaxez vous!
‘Janice, my dog ate my homework’ will be along ‘toot-sweet’ to explain EVERYTHING.
(Je suis desolé, Jeanette.)
I haven’t watched the video yet, so you might have to.
Merci.
Well worth a watch. Très dark.
ne t’excuse jamais bébé
‘Uhhhuhuh!’
Or as they say in the France, ‘That’s Life’.
Je suis le Pėre* de la delinquent sous. (Ref:The previous comment. Try to keep up, please.)
Pardonéz Moi, Lady Ninja Teenage Turtle Hunter, or whatever you call yourself. I understand loads of French*, mains my paroblě past bėin Francais.
J’habitte en Marseilles (political joke… most of you won’t get it.)
*I learned all my French with my tongue. Licking a Teenage Mutant Teenage Tortises DVD. It was ages ago.
Now I have eleven kids… count them… 12.
Fupp!