Julie and Julia

A word to begin: Hogwash!
I shall explain thusly; I arrived at my local towne theatre only to find, after the news reel, that they mucked up the show and screened me two thoroughly separate pictures, betwixt one-anoth'r. The booth boy must have been spifficated; I must remember to give him a good lashing on my return (both with tongue and belt).
Being the consummate journlist and idea-man that I am, however, I shall still give them both writings-on.
The first picture concerned a young trollop called Julie, who is ungrateful for the ample opportunities afforded her by high society. She takes it upon her-self to write of her whirligig adventures in foods preparation. As much as I was initially disinclined to hold her in my favor, afore long she realized her place was in the kitchen-room, and thus I was compelled to forgive her.
Although a curious thing was that as the world is at it is now, the picture-director chose to omit depictions of Julie waiting a half-day on the bread line.
I s'pose the inspiration came for her from a pamphlet on food preparation from a woman called Julia, whom coincidentally enough, the second picture was concerning.
The character Julia was play'd by Meryll Van Streep (of the Boston Van Streeps, no doubt). She had apparently published writings on the proper preparation of succotash and hams and the like. She oft met with two other loose women to gossip and waste perfectly good hooch and pot pie.
To tell the truth, the pictures of Julia attending French cooking school brought about in me such a bout of indigestion that I was forced to enter the lobby and purchase fizzy tonic and chestnuts. Needless to say, I forgot to return for the ending and left early to enjoy a ham prepared by Mrs. Von Copperpot.

Judgment Being:



  1. What damn you? Now you hate cooking? Next you'll be disparaging food!

  2. Bollycock! Never will you catch me disparaging foodstuffs. I enjoy a half-ham ev'ry Wednesday, and two game-hens on Sundays.