but why should we go in search of "temps pedue" when there a great present and even more promissing future?
I know, I know; optimism is soooo passée . . .

just as unmissable as Wilde, Marcel Proust:

as side dish, a tribute to the author of the world's first queer popsong èver :
written in the early 1930s by Sir Noel Coward after falling for a beautiful young man he met at a Hollywood party.

This young man was rumoured to be Douglas Fairbanks Jr,
although Tyrone Power may also have been the subject of Noel's desire.

don't hesitate to suck it to me with questions or suggestions / submissions.
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