Friends, Chic ones, countrymen, lend me your...no, I don't really want anything from you anyway.
My "wing-women" told me to write a post about that new president fellow; but I think it's rude to talk about another country's president: it's like criticising the hostess at a dinner party.
Instead I'm going to have a bath in my suit and high collar, and sketch. And then I will toss the suit into a Chanel bag to be flown to my Paris apartment where it will be thrown out the back window, ready for the Le Skinny Jeans Society. They will then be rained on by my old sketches, which they will eat. My loyal little piranhas!