...yes of course I mean you, you're the only Emmanuelle I (don't) really know...
...sorry about taking our relationship out in public with this more or less open letter, but then lots of people think I've made you up anyway, although David in Carrboro believes because you got your name in Braille from him, well - let them wonder longer. Plus, having a Friend with such a name, Emmanuelle, has a certain je ne sais quois to it and there's a pleasing cachet to the overall mystique of, well, of vous Ma Belle Ami!
I know, I know...moi French non too bon.
I only speak phrases of most languages, including this one (English), but I find it interesting that the few foreign words I know sometimes synopsize volumes into a quick phrase, for instance, I'm quick to toss off a bon mot, but at the same time such bon mots are at once ma bete noire et ma raison d'etre...
That may not make sense in French or English, nor neither Esperanto, ah yes, Emmanuelle, how I remember our days in Esperant, frolicking in the lianas and wafting to and fro in the ether...me Groucho to your Zelda; Fernandel to Brigitte, Woody to Diane; yes vividly I recall the Esparantans and how mellifluous and echolalian everything sounded when they caterwauled in their l'Esperanto tongue - o how we trembled when arose from the gloaming such a moaning, 'Mi divas skribi sed la tempon mankas...'
...I'll never forget that chilling moment...be still my heart!
...well I suppose you had to be there...
My Dear, are you still in Red Stick? Do you still play your drum? Are you well? Better? (Good) Worse? (Sorry) Hope things improve; sometimes they do, sometimes not.
TWard, half of two-person crime wave
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