Stretch pants.
Oh la la! Ici un jersey magnifique, que l’equipe Stade Francais porte! Ma tete est fou!
Ma femme mange souris pour petit-dejeuner! Aruya!
I have a lot of thoughts about Metallica but refuse to share them with you now.
I have one thought about the Coldplay. I know it is cool to slag them off, I think, but Jesus, what is going on? How mad is their singer? The stylised comeback thing. The ridiculous clothes, yet people eat it all up. I’m not sure I get it. My idea of hell would be waking up one morning and being Apple Martin-Paltrow.
“Good morning Apple. Here is an apple, eat it.”
How does that work? The amount of times that child hears its own name and looks up only to find that people are talking about a fruit or a large computer manufacturer. I know other people have names that cause this kind of problem, but they are usually not rich fur-supporting freaks.
Anyway, I will not talk about Coldplay’s music and maybe they will go away.
Go away Coldplay! Go away!