Lolo Page #5

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What happened?

I don't talk about it,

but it gave me new perspective.

So dating me is

better than having a coma?

Yeah...

I have to think it over.

And "nothing much" for years

was with or without condoms?

I am joking.

I hope so.

Without condoms,

obviously.

No, no, no!

Les Miz!

You mean Les Misrables?

- Yes.

You know your

French literature.

Victor Hugo is so up there.

What?

Damn it! She picked up

the spare key at Paulette's.

Is everything okay?

No, there is a problem.

We can't go to my place tonight.

Where are you staying?

At a small hotel in the 15th.

After the sauce,

buy a good chicken.

The important part is

the texture, the firmness.

Here, it should be firm.

It talks to me, it has

a personal vibration.

There's a bond,

a connection to the animal,

Even though I'm alive

and it's passed on.

Don't feel intimidated.

It's only a chicken.

You toss it whole

into the pot.

Meanwhile, you can

cut up the vegetables

to prepare

the basque side dish.

Coming!

Violets?

Isn't that sweet!

That smells so good.

I am making Basque chicken.

I thought it would please you

after a day of work.

I'm not a real Basque

but it's my favorite.

If yours is as good as Jojo's

in St-Jean-de-Luz, I'll marry you.

Someone there?

No, it's the iPad app.

Beigbeder's South-West Cuisine.

You're posh.

- You don't like that?

- I love it!

Stuff it with your red bell pepper

that you already stuffed

with one large onion.

Hey, buddy. I can't

talk right now.

I'm at a gala for the homeless

with stars everywhere.

Damn, it's you-know-who.

What's his name?

No, no, no...

It's not him after all.

Lots of pretty girls.

Guess what?

It's in the subway station.

I gotta go.

Lolo's here.

Lolo! Lolo!

Bah, Lolo!

Hou!

I like you to meet Karl.

Jean, my boyfriend.

- Delighted to meet you.

- It's mutual.

- I deeply admire your work.

- Too kind.

I follow all your collections.

They're simply darling.

Daring? Darling?

- Both, hopefully!

- Yes!

Jean just moved to Paris.

Karl, truly,

thank you for coming.

The pleasure's all mine.

Who wouldn't come for you?

Bravo for your N5.

Smells great.

- It was there before me.

- Yes!

It wouldn't have been famous

worldwide without you.

And without

Marilyn Monroe.

Well, Jean...

Karl has other people to talk to.

Sorry, we have a problem.

- Can't it wait?

- No, it's an emergency.

I'll be fine on my own

for 5 minutes.

Did I come off

too uptight with Karl?

Uptight, no.

Look, you were fine.

Go get a drink.

I'll be right back.

- It can't wait 5 minutes?

- No.

Did you pick

that stupid jacket for him?

He chose it himself.

Look after him

while I attend to something.

- So J.R. How are you?

- Lolo!

I waved earlier.

You didn't see me.

Cheers!

To health!

See? Not so scary.

Your mom introduced

me to Karl Lagerfeld.

- Karlito.

- I talked to him.

Really?

Go get a selfie with him.

You think?

Your daughter

will be so impressed.

No, no. I don't dare.

A drink will relax you.

Ha Francesca.

Gotta go.

Yes.

- Sir?

- Oh, why not?

- Thanks.

- You're welcome.

Seriously, Violette,

who's that guy you're with?

Look...

I know, he's not very...

- Check this out.

- What?

But no!

- Enough.

- It's gorgeous!

He dick saved my life.

Where's the electrician?

I gotta get back.

They are beautiful.

I'll...

8,000 euros.

Bid accepted.

They're a present

for Violette.

Violette!

Baby!

Sorry. Oh yeah,

that's better.

- It's for my daughter.

- Yes, that's what they all say.

Good evening.

I can't take anymore

I have to go. Where is he?

Thanks.

Hold on,

it's blurred, it's blurred.

Thank a lot, Karl!

- Gimme a hug.

- It's not possible.

Let's go.

Karl...

Karlito!

Jean, you're snoring.

I have a big day tomorrow.

Roll onto the side.

Onto your side.

Oh!

Damn.

Oh!

Excuse me.

- Yes?

- Bad time?

- Well...

I'm not cut out

for relationships.

Jean-Ren is

drunk, snoring.

One of your

magic moments?

I can't sleep.

I tried masturbating,

but I can't focus.

Ah!

Arr...

I think he just puked.

He's puking, you're masturbate.

That's a great rock 'n' roll.

Gotta go.

Ariane!

B*tch.

Violette?

J.R.?

Ha, ha,...

Great start to the weekend.

Want an aspirin?

I am fine.

No more champagne again.

Pretty beach.

Where is it?

It's a shoulder.

Really?

I need a right elbow mold.

Got a moment?

A right elbow mold?

It's a surprise for mom,

for my new exhibit.

Don't tell her.

Will it take much longer?

Last one.

Leave it to dry and we're done.

- Damn.

- Jean?

- What's she doing home?

- Jean? Lolo?

- Hold still.

- What do I...

Sit still and don't say a word.

Okay?

Where is it?

Jean!

Lolo, you're here!

I forgot my notebook

with all my notes in it.

I sent you tons of texts

to ask you to bring it over.

I left it here.

Where it went? I need it.

Sorry, I was busy.

What a nightmare

last night.

- What?

- Jean-Ren!

He made a fool of himself,

he got drunk.

I spoke with

Karl's personal assistant,

I may not get

the next show.

You kidding?

I am furious.

How could I think he would fit in

just because he's nice with a big dick?

Truth is, he's a

Biarritz bumpkin.

Don't exaggerate.

He looked so lame

with his biker jacket,

like Jeanny Hallyday with

his damn cocker spaniel...

The Biarritz bumpkin

says screw you!

Couldn't you tell me

he was here?

- Now it's my fault?

- Jean!

I'm sorry!

You're sorry?

That makes everything okay.

What more

do you want me to say?

No, I'm just an idiot with

a big dick and crappy taste.

- Your son picked out the jacket.

- Keep Lolo out of it.

Of course!

Lolo the untouchable!

What am I?

The chump who waits up

while you party with your hipsters.

- I said you were nice.

- Ah yes!

And "big dick" is a compliment.

Sure, that's great! Who

do you think I am?

And who the hell are you?

A 45-year old

picking up hicks in Biarritz.

I didn't mean that. I know

you're mad, but don't insult me.

What?

"45-year old" is an insult?

I wasn't thinking straight,

I was upset!

I'm in a dumb-ass business

where looks are everything.

They're young, beautiful...

And your

fat ass "fits in"?

Jean.

Her precious notebook.

- Are you hurt?

- Oh, I'm.

Are you hurt?

Yes to literally and figuratively.

Mr. & Mrs. Brave.

The name's Brav with

the accent "".

Well, Mr. Brav.

It's still broken.

It wasn't broken before.

It is broken now?

A fracture of

the right radius.

- Sh*t.

- Damn.

You were in a cast,

your arm must

has been broken.

No, it wasn't broken.

I was posing for a work of art.

If we put it back in cast,

will you break it again?

It's performance art?

What are you saying?

What does he mean?

- What do you mean?

- It's like a happening!

Thanks for the soup.

I'm not sick. I broke my arm.

I'm okay now,

I'll be fine on my own.

Damn!

Here.

I already knew you are

not good with your left hand.

Go on.

- Ah!

- Stop it.

Don't be silly.

Jean,

it's so depressing here.

Not cheery, but practical.

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