On our way to Paris just before the car broke down. Pepito was like “poetry not Peugeots, babe.”
So now I get to fix the fucking car. Fantastic.
Guys. It's grown-up Madeline, and where have you been all my life? I have a nose ring and live in a château now. I take my flower arranging sessions very seriously. And Pepito? Not a bad hat in bed. At all. We have visitors from two to midnight. In two straight lines, we break our bread and drink our wine and go to bed and have the best night ever, and COME VISIT.
Come be mon ami!
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