Enjoy the existential adventures of transplanted Parisienne Mona Montrois as she chain-smokes her way to equilibrium in the City of Angels, armed only with the sage advice of confidant and adviser Monsieur Smokey, a lewd, chauvinistic stuffed bunny.
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Comments (6) (Please sign in to comment)
Sisyphos said, 8 months ago
No means no, once M. Smokey extracts it, painfully. Mona at least has been forced to admit the “Lucas” part of her problem(s).
Peabody-Martini said, 8 months ago
More like she simply has been avoiding thinking about it.
Tantor said, 8 months ago
why don’t you just give up?!
Shyygirl27 said, 8 months ago
Just don’t soak it in alcohol Mona!
AgProv said, 8 months ago
Ah, another Freudian slip… I am sure she can find a place and a time to soak it in, to her heart’s content, even though her liver is waving a white flag….
Nabuquduriuzhur said, 8 months ago
Good news! It was 27 last night and the zuccini leaves are wilted! YEEEHAAAA!