If Life is a beach for Pete’s sake sit on a sandy one

Of course I am back home in France. I’ve been munching the molluscs, philandering with the fromages and crunching the crusts. I’m lost in an allegory of alimentary alliteration.  I tell everyone that I’m on a diet – well I am. It’s the French diet and it’s so easy that it’s gonna be the next Rockbuster. Before every meal you run upstairs and put on a beret and stripey jumper. The extra exercise compensates for those few additional calories. For best results you need to live in a lighthouse.

Oxytocin is the formula for love. You can.cook this up this at home!

The diet only works if you take a vitamin D and serotonin supplement in the form of sunbathing. Charente-Maritime usually obliges with plenty of hot sun even at this time of year. The endless sandy beaches, the muscular young surfer dudes and dudettes put on a live show for us serious health freaks on the serotonin highway. As the sun shines through the top of the breaking waves you can feel the pulse of life all the way through to your oxytocins.  Oooh – it’s a real shudder in your rudder just to be alive here. 

This is my mo-man

You will have noted my intense interest in technical hormonal matters. Recently I’ve been involved in a secret project very much concerned with health consciousness. Today I am not able to reveal too much. I can’t resist a little tease. I took the hair cutting tools to my man and created a special Mohican style. I’ve called it the Mo-stash. Can you guess why?



Emma thinx:   Femme is fatale. Sistas get whiskas.