Manolo says, the Manolo loves these witty vases. Perfect for the house in the county.
Manolo says, here are the few links which may perhaps amuse…
It has become common practice among the self-righteous burlap-and-sandals set to indict a woman for being too perfectly turned out. Interest in fashion, at its highest and glossiest level, is seen as shorthand for self-absorption, vapidness and thoughtlessness.
Manolo says, daily readings from Don’t Hassel the Hoff. Today, page 140.
I had been home in Sherman Oaks for a few days when there was a knock on the door and a man introduced himself as the new neighbor who had just moved into the house next door.
‘I understand you’re famous in Germany,’ he said.
‘Well, yes — how did you know?’
‘There are Germans in my trees.’
‘We walked up the driveway and there were shouts from the trees on his side of the fence.
‘Hi David, this is Fritz!’
The neighbor was right; there were Germans in his trees. I invited them to come down on to my side of the fence to meet me. It was quite common for fans from Germany or Austria to trek all the way out to Sherman Oaks to pay me a visit and talk about my popularity in their country.
The Word of the Hoff!
Manolo says, yes, it is again Monday morning and you are back at your desk, once more in thrall to The Man.
But in your heart you are Diana, Goddess of the Hunt, and you long to run through your sacred oak groves, bow and arrow in hand, and beautiful golden shoes named in your honor upon your graceful feets.
It is August, the month when your votaries celebrate your feast by setting up shrines in the forest, adorning their hunting dogs with wreaths, and feasting on wine and cakes served on green-wood trays. What better way to render sacrifice to you for the natural bounty of the season?