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He had an accent – French, maybe. He pronounced his J like in Jacques.
Girls moved around in football huddles, the way they always do, wearing lots of makeup and spaghetti-strap tops and brightly coloured trousers and shoes that looked like torture devices. Every once in a while they’d surround some poor guy like a pack of piranhas, shrieking and giggling, and when they finally moved on, the guy would have ribbons in his hair and a bunch of lipstick graffiti all over his face.
Un livre écrit par un homme, c'est donc ça...
all young maidens for whom I am patron, before they go astray.’ ‘Go astray?’ I asked. ‘Grow up. Become smitten with boys. Become silly, preoccupied, insecure. Forget themselves.’
Décidément
Then Grover had a brilliant, totally Grover-like idea. ‘Burrito fight!’ he yelled, and flung his Guacamole Grande at the nearest skeleton. Now, if you have never been hit by a flying burrito, count yourself lucky. In terms of deadly projectiles, it’s right up there with grenades and cannonballs.
‘The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation,’
