Cannes, on the Croisette, the Burberry shop

We had to inspect our car, I mean (talking a bit like Dolly), we had to have our car inspected, and during the car-less hours we took a stroll on the Croisette, and here's one of Chang's results: 

French for beginners --- Ikea

(Maud sends us this cartoon:)

Crush the elites

The best Trump comb-over you'll ever see (updated)

(Update:) Und hier das Buch zur Frisur:

Hat tip: Michael Brown

Is it true that the United Nations will move to outlaw comb-overs worldwide?

Philippines (2)

"Lying with your beard" would be a more appropriate header, perhaps...

Friday matinée (Glenn)

(Click here for a bit kulturkritische assistance)

Find a caption

"My fellow Americans, let me say to you: Stand witness to the death of the red tie!"

Find a caption

The royal wedding: it's not over until the fat lady sings

Tara Palmer-Tomkinson

Yes, and it's her, Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. She made a documentary about the Cote d'Azur, which included our house, in 2004. We had never heard of her, of course, but were informed that her fame rested on the fact that she had bared her breasts in front of William and Harry for educational purposes --- her father ran Prince Charles' stable. She brought semi-pornographic postcards, which she signed for us without being asked. Later, our neighbours Jenni & Bill, who followed her every move at the time, assured us that her cocaine consumption had led to a complete breakdown of her nose. She's been on "I'm a celebrity, get me out of here," so her case must be hopeless. Like ours. And, yes, she isn't fat at all.

We're not making this up.

Communist swimwear

It was 1985, before the Berlin Wall had come down, and I was visiting at the Rockefeller College of the State University of New York at Albany. They had arranged for an apartment for me, owned by a physics professor from Union College, Schenectady, who would go to CERN for a sabbatical (yes, click it, and click here, as well). What I did in Schenectady? I learned how to pronounce "Schenectady!"

There was a TV in my apartment, and on the TV, one fine evening, a commercial appears. It's a fashion show with a female man-eater (are all man-eaters female?) who pronounces the words "day wear" with a heavy Russian accent, while a mousy model comes on stage in a shapeless gray garment, and disappears again. The light dims, the man-eater flashes a torch-light, pronounces "night wear," and the mousy model re-appears in the very same outfit. The light comes up again, the man eater pronounces "swim wear," and the mousy model makes her last appearance, this time with a swim belt wrapped around her hopeless dress. CUT. A male person, with an unaccented voice, proclaims:"Wendy is better; Wendy offers choice."

Two days later, Wendy, a fast food chain, pulled the commercial, "because it had raised controversy." I never understood. I thought it was very funny, and very true. Especially the accent was very funny, Zwim-Weaarh,  Zwim-Weaarh. By the way, I forgot to tell, with each appearance of the model, the Stalinist man eater (obviously a member of the Tea Party) would raise her hands and clap enthusiastically while gazing triumphantly at the audience, that would then chime in, reluctantly.

But now I do understand why Wendy pulled the commercial. Because, you know, the swim wear under communism was much better that I (we?) thought---as the newly discovered picture from the former, communist Eastern Germany, published in Der Spiegel, exemplifies.

-"If only the Tea Party would know, it would change their outlook completely."

-"It could mean the end of the culture wars."

-"Communism is OK, really."

-"Moderates, independents, centrists, whoever is out there, draw your Tea Party friends to this post and see the world change."