If I tell you that November 23 is the 3rd day of the month of frimaire (French Republican Calendar), known as chicory day, you'll spread the word throughout the galaxy that I've become fit to retire and make clogs in the Cévennes.
Which in itself wouldn't bother me, because I love the Cévennes, even if a little less since Antoinette, but it's a region I really like, wild, with wonderfully friendly people, and the absence of Linky meters. They don't want 5G, or if they do, it's to do with blood alcohol levels. In short, everything's going well for me and for them.
You know me, I don't want to rush you, but I also want you to have everything wrapped up by Christmas and not have any regrets.
Because Christmas isn't just for children, it's also for those who have worked hard all year to enable their children to go to school, do activities, eat, have a snack, play games etc... so Christmas is for mums, as is Mother's Day, and every public holidays.
We must be celebrated, because without us there would be no children, no world, no eternity. That's why men try to take power away from us. But they will never succeed.
Today is Vincent Crochon's, aka Vincent Cassel's, birthday. I wanted to say more about him before I realised that I couldn't. Because apart from La Haine and his little dance step in Ocean's Twelve, I didn't really know what to say.
I could go on and on about his new role in the Kooples advert that's been plastered all over the place, and about how beautiful his new wife is, but let's not advertise the advert, let's celebrate talent, let's celebrate sparkle, let's celebrate difference, let's celebrate feminine genius, Let's celebrate what makes us better, what makes us exceptional beings, proud and valiant women, great girls who celebrate life and its daily micro-victories. In short, let's celebrate the Patricias, your foot armour, the armour that raises you up and makes you invulnerable.