This is not even a contest between languages. This is a weapon of choice, thank you very much. It’s the show in the slaughter house. It’s what I choose to let others see. Mind you, it’s just a blog. My therapy. And you don’t know me just because you’re sometimes reading my writing. I am not a blog. If, however, you know what I am, do comment. I’d be happy to review your suggestions.
There was this joke that a true lady would rather be separated from her husband than from her bag. I now have a question. What happens with the husband when the lady meets with these bags?
(before you click you should know this is a pro-bono post)