Poste la dixième, dans laquelle there exist(s?) cheating, lying, and KITTENS! (that were not inspired by KITTENS!), or, thank goodness I no longer have an expander because for a while there I couldn't make a long "ee" sound ("deee-zeee-ehm")

Here is the cheating:

I am too tired to tell you real things right now so I am giving you this: As I have mentioned at least once, the French do not hug. They prefer to kiss--not even each other, just the dirty dirty smoke-filled air around each other's faces. POUR QUOI?? Je n'ai aucune f***ing idée. I miss you all and I miss hugs. HUGZ and KUDDLEZ, especially aggressive Molly-cuddles when she wakes you up in the morning to pet her. So, in lieu of (#franglais, oh god I really hate hashtags, no seriously. what is the point? this is not twitter. I also hate twitter. Not even capital-T worthy, here in my blerg.)...what was I saying? OH, in lieu of tangible hugz and cuddlez, kitteh or otherwise, I give you this. Pretend you are one and I am one, and not only will we be the cutest things ever to exist, we will be CUDDLING!

And without further ado, KITTEHZ:

Smoke rings in the shape of hearts*,

Clare

* Just to clarify, I do not smoke. These are French people's smoke hearts I am offering. I spend my time filling my lungs with albuterol so I can then fill them with oxygen, which unfortunately is smoke-flavored and thus requires more inhaler timez. Albuterol-y exhales in the shape of hearts!

Also, I lied. There was no lying. (Are either of those statements true?)