And off I go back to France for another five weeks of exile.
[This statement accompanied with a lot of melodramatic sighing, tearfulness and wistful staring into the distant distance, in the manner of Elijah Wood at any given point in the Lord of the Rings trilogy.]
See you all on the other side...
About Father Christmas
2 days ago
10 comments:
Can't you turn the French saga into something Joanne Harris-esque?
*wistfully stares out to France after Patroclus*
à bientôt, mon amie
Don't get so wistful you want to cut your legs off, alright.
Oh, poo. I remember when Rob and I could only see each other once a month, and it made us very grumpy. Sympathies.
"... wistful staring into the distant distance, in the manner of Elijah Wood..."
That's not wistful. That's mad, goggle-eyed gurning from the new Marty Feldman.
I'm good at melodramatic sighing. As long as there is semi-regular French updates, I will cope.
You should try being very short sighted. If you stare into the distant distance, everything looks like cream of mushroom soup.
Oh well, au revoir. Sigh ...
In the manner of Elijah Wood in LOTR? You mean you're all tortured and conflicted due to feeling the irresistible allure of evil/ultimate power? Cool.
Spending enforced time away from somewhere/someone usually results in near-irrational joy and squealing happiness when I/they return, so wishing you that.
Aye, but he was terribly good in The Ice Storm, wasn't he?
I'm off for an invigorating stroll around the Misty Mountains, listening to some rousing euro-punk-pop.
Buck up, old scout. Absence makes the heart and all that.
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