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ABRaquel
Say what you want, but the famous silver-tongued French Jacques Chirac certainly knows how to gussy up a phrase, doesn't he? I can see Jacques making the moves on one of the tarts on the Champs d'Elysee, running a hand through his thinning pate, leaning in to fill his Gallic nostrils with sweet Parisian parfum, and whispering, "Ah mademoiselle, your lips are quite average and your legs, your legs, zey are joost like a any uzzer legs. Dunt get me rrrong, cherie, your breasts are like zees morning's puddings, only wis zat skin on top, zat skin zat, fwankly, I could do wissout. But no matter, mon amour, I would like to take you in my harms and make adequate love to you until you beg, or razzer, you request strongly zat I, a man of good technical organization, bring you to a satisfactory climax."
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