I was sitting in a bar the other night, talking with two girls I know who work there, when this old drunk guy stumbles over and makes a comment telling me to “stop drooling.” And my response was this:
“I beg your pardon sir, but I am a happily married man!”
In all the excitement, I nearly dropped my monocle in my brandywine and had that happened – good heavens – would my face ever have been red at the next salon!
Madame H______ would have deemed you incorrigable at such a sight. Her wrath would shortly cloud her ability to don a corset, and an unbound woman brings nothing but rain.
OK, so maybe I need to stop reading French novels.
Poppycock!
Then longen folke to gone on pilgrymages.
Where’s the translation that’s supposed to be on the opposite side of the page?
Are you challenging the veracity of my statement, Madam J_______?
Pistols at dawn!
Ladies, ladies, please stop bickering. We all know your delicate nature prevents you from actually harming each another anyway.
*sobs inconsolably*