Solange one of the best faces of the slogan, melanin popping you’re ever likely to find. I would never complain about anyone’s expression of their skin colour but there some expressions I appreciate more than others. Some people like to listen to songs that seem to say, “I bust a cap in that mother-fucker.” but I usually don’t. Those things feed into a stereotype that does not include me, and I don’t like that it’ll lead to someone somewhere taking one look at my dark brown orangeish face and thinking, "Here stands Afam the black man. He calls all his friends nigger, and he has a hand gun tucked away in his crotch. Don’t look at him the wrong way because he’s volatile and angry."  If there is a song about guns and shooting things that speaks of me, it’ll say something like, “I bust a cap in that clay pigeon. Bang bang I shot that clay aerial rat down.”

In Solange’s, A Seat at the Table there’s only individuality. Everything about it is hers, from the light airy vocals to the beautiful touches that each song seems to have. There are no ballads or club bangers in it. It’s an honest to God expression of musical creativity from her heart to yours. And it all lands. It doesn’t matter if you’re not particularly into Soul or RnB, music is a collection of notes, rhythms, and melodies that collude to produce an effective result. You’ll find yourself appreciating the details that are so carefully applied to every song and some interludes. Even the one minute forty second long album opening half song, Rise is praise worthy.

For me, Solange is a one song per album Afam hit wonder. That means that on every album  she’s ever put out there's one song I’ll find myself listening to for years. On this one, that song is Don’t You Wait. With a chilled beat and baseline that excites the nethers, it’s a hit any way you look at it. I have listened to it for two days without stopping and today is looking like the fourth. I bob my head, and sway from side to side. I would like to do more but that’s what you get when the bulk of your dance training happened on a dance floor with more white people than any establishment with a reasonable expectation of good dancing should have. I lift my head to the ceiling and close my eyes. It isn't a happy song by any means, but there's a vibe about it that feels like my life now.

The next thing after Don’t you wait, is an interlude called Tina taught me. Her mother Tina Knowles says,

“I think part of it is accepting that there’s so beauty in being black and that’s the thing that I guess I get emotional about because I’ve always know that. I’ve always been proud to be black. Never wanted to be nothing else, loved everything about it just there’s such beauty in black people and it really saddens me when we’re not allowed to express that pride in being black and then if you do it’s considered anti-white. No! It’s just pro black.”

It’s a brilliant all lives matter take down and an effective encourager of white tears. Much of the album is like this. Heavy material delivered with a falsetto, synth, and a stuttering baseline. It is always lovely when music is more than a pretty melody, and while this album has pretty melodies aplenty it’s a non-fiction novel about what it means to be a black woman in 2016.

Happy Days,
Afam

If there is anything good about the Lawyartist it is that he both knows himself and is himself. When that expression and others like it are used, they generally describe people so odd that the ordinary man or woman cannot tell where it is that they come from or where it is that they’re going. It is my greatest pleasure to say that the Lawyartist, Tunji is nothing like them - the people so fantastically creative that any idiot can tell that their day is not the ordinary nine to five.

In person he’s rather unassuming. I would not have known it was he if I had not spotted what looked like an interesting watch from across the bar. I walked up to him immediately and bent till my eyes lay level with his wrist, completely ignorant of the fact that he could possibly require a degree of a thing the anti-social call personal space.

The watch’s face was a gavel dueling with a pencil. It was him. I knew it without a doubt. In Lagos, the people you’re most likely to find wearing the merchandise of local creatives are the creatives themselves.

I looked straight at him and said, “You’re the Lawyartist aren’t you?”

He looked right back at me and said, “You must be Afam. I imagined that your madness was a front you kept up for the purposes of the blog. I was wrong. You carry it with you always.”

I find that I'm almost entirely incapable of being ashamed of being called mad. So I said,

“It is only the truly insane that bother to hide their madness. As I am only merely talented beyond compare, I wear my brand of it like it's my first skin.”

It was not the first time we'd spoken.

I'd seen a rather good drawing of one cartoon character or the other, and I was desperate to say something about it. I wanted to say brilliant, but my fingers protested fiercely and they were right to. It has always been my policy to be as stringent with my praise as possible. Men and women who do so are generally more trustworthy. If you speak highly of everything it gives the impression that you have no standards. A human being without standards is a truly terrifying character. I myself pretend that they do not exist. If my eyes were to linger on them my immune system would collapse and I'd be on the verge of destruction within the week. With all this in mind, I said a single accusatory "perv."



The accusation caught his attention and he asked a question. "Me or the person who likes this?"

I had the best retort. "The creator is the biggest perv. Everyone else is a student."

And thus our relationship was born. Every time he drew something and I saw it, I would point out something that could come across as sexual if framed the right way. It is a habit that endures to this day.

In the beginning he was good, but not exceptional. It has been my greatest pleasure to watch his art improve. Now, he has an exhibition in Ikoyi club, Lagos' greatest collection of its top ten per cent. He has done very well and I am pleased. I went to see it on Tuesday and I thought,

"Here's Tunde. Once he was my favourite pervert on Instagram and now he's everyone's favourite illustrator."

Like I said when this began his greatest credit is that he both knows himself and is himself. In the years that I've known him, he hasn't strayed from his calling. Something led him to draw some of his favourite characters in geeky pop culture. I dare say that you'll find no blogger, writer or journalist happier than I at his success. The Ikoyi club exhibition is only a stepping stone to the greater things he'll do in the future.

Follow him on instagram:@TheLawyartist

The original picture I took was the worst thing I'd ever seen so I had to repackage it.

Happy Days,
Afam

When people say that they do not like Beyonce, there is only one question to ask.

When did your fave ever?

If you do not like her work, then you cannot like work. If you do not like what she does, then you cannot like popular music. Her performances are singularly stellar. She sounds as good live as she does on her records, and she's probably the only singer alive today that can sustain a full belt through an incredibly intense dance break.

In Hold Up she sings, "what's worse being jealous or crazy?" And then she answers that she'd rather be crazy. That's clear because only a crazy person would release an album on the weekend that Prince died. Anyway you think about it that is something that most people know not to do. We only have room for so much. This weekend I only had room for Prince. I only wanted his extra time and his kisses. Everything else and everyone else was irrelevant. In the thick of my youtube Prince education, I forgot about the HBO promo that she'd made a week before.

I'm a tangential member of the Beyhive. I'm the prodigal Bee. Some of you live there all year round, in years of bounty and in years of drought. I only come round when there's new material. As a result it is no surprise that I wasn't among the first to write, but I'm fairly sure that I won't be the last.

There's an essay on the Daily Mail where Piers Morgan writes that he believes that Beyonce's a born again black woman using her new found blackness for commercial purposes. This opinion isn't just wrong, it's racist. For as long as there has been music, musicians have farmed their personal experiences for material. Some have formed entire careers off the premise that they've been shot nine times. Rags to riches stories are as common as the discovery of sex or a new found love of the powers of marijuana. Why should stories of blackness be treated any differently?

I can all but guarantee that if Beyonce had began her solo career by wearing her blackness on her sleeve she wouldn't be as huge as she is. At best she'd be Azealia Banks and at worst her career would be a gravestone in the realm of the hasbeens and the no longer relevant. Instead she hid her black girl magic in very catchy but relateable riffs about being crazy in love. Themes so relateable that her race was invisible. You may ask why she's chosen 2016 to come out with it, but the truth is you wouldn't have listened if she'd done it in 2003. In 2003 you could have ignored her, now you can't.

There is no one in this generation that could have done it as well as she. No one can tell stories about the black woman like the black woman. It is unfortunate that there are so few mouthpieces left with as much reach. When she speaks she turns the world into her echo chamber. You'll see the black power symbol at the Superbowl, and stop shooting us will find your eyes on MTV. On HBO you'll hear "if it's truly what you want, I can wear her hair over mine, her skin over mine, her hands as gloves, and her teeth as confetti."

In that you'll get a glimpse into what black girls the world round think before every job interview, as they think about the weave they'll have to wear, or the perm they'll have to get. It's what the girl that wrote to Lupita thought about while she considered buying Dencia's Whitenicious bleaching cream.
Maybe now that she's revealed her black heart, other people won't try so hard to hide theirs.

There are two ways to enjoy Lemonade. You can watch the hour long film with its black girl magic and pride, or you can listen to the songs in isolation. Both offer different experiences. When you listen to the music on its own, it's a similar Beyonce to the one you've always known. Her voice is still impeccable, her range is still breathtaking. You will be surprised that its the most genreless album she's ever made. There's rock, country, reggae, pop and R&B. It makes sense. One as gifted as she should not have to exist in boxes.

When you watch the film, you see it for what it is. Stories that touch from a black woman to the world.

So I was walking about in my garden this morning

Yes, that is me. And yes, I dress like this when I'm in my garden, because it is my garden.

Now you can see me properly. I'm wearing my Afam Strawhat. The more discerning of you will have realised that I've changed my name on twitter from Afambewbew to Afam Strawhat. That's who I am now. I'm the straw hat wearing fisherman of the city that doesn't have a fishing rod. Attend me. Where was I? The shades are Cartier's, the necklace thingy is nameless, but it's flawless. I got it from the crafts market near where I live. The shorts are Muay Thai shorts, and the trainers are from the Yohji Yamamoto collaboration with adidas. They're Y-3's.

ehem...

Yes...

I was walking about in the garden feeling myself

If you didn't know how to feel yourself, learn your lesson. This is how you do it. I can't explain it. You either get it or you don't. You get it? You gerrit? I can get it? I know.

When the Universe struck me with news.

I was like NO! I'm not ready. HEEEEEEEEEEEH!!!! HAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Slow down.

But the Universe waits for no man. Shehe (because the universe is both he and a she) said to me, "Afam, Temi Dollface just dropped a new song."

I removed my hat from my head, clutched it to my chest and screamed the scream of a crazed fanatic. Errr Maaa Gerrrrd I wasn't ready! She told me she'd been working on something a few weeks ago, but I was still unprepared. I hadn't even heard the song at that point, but I was freaking out. ERRR MAAAAR GEEEEEEEEEERRRRD AFAM

I clutched my balls to steady myself. But even that wasn't enough to calm me da fuq down. OH MAAAAAAAAAEEEEER DAAAAAAAAYS AFAM

And then the excitement escaped from me. I couldn't contain myself.

I said "REGGIE", "CAPTAIN REGINALD ODI!!!!", "TEMI DOLLFACE JUST RELEASED A NEW SONG!!" "YEAH! SHE JUST RELEASED A NEW SONG NOW!!" "LIKE NOW!" I'M GONNA TELL ERRBADDDY AFAM

That's captain Reginald and I. There I'm wearing my Slazenger swimming shorts from my University of Manchester swimming society days.

....
Captain Reginald didn't say anything back because he was sleeping and farting somewhere. It was at that time that the Universe took the initiative to download the song, its video and the behind the scenes documentary of the video which shows how she and IBK Spaceship Boi wrote the song into my head.

While the download was happening, the sky went dark and everything turned blue. This is what happens when the universe is doing magic. It was quite painful. It was like taking a dump while being severely constipated but in your head. Yes. It was like taking a constipated head shit. TAKING A HEAD SHIT AFAM

When the magics released me, I sprang up like a champagne cork. "THANK YOU UNIVERSE FOR BLESSING ME TODAY!!"  I yelled. I also waved goodbye to the universe because you can't keep the universe about you at all times. Heshe can be quite wicked. Heshe isn't a good friend to have.

And then from that position I,

I jumped up and got my eagle on. That is to say that I spread my wings... My legs are spread aren't they? I yelled in ecstasy for the song is brilliant. this is how I feel when the people I like do good work. It's light and it shows Temi's voice to great effect. Its production is minimal. Most of the time she's accompanied by a piano, and even when the drums, claps and maracas come in she isn't over shadowed. It's certainly more intimate than her last offering, Pata Pata. The harmonies she does with IBK Spaceshipboi are tight. They've got such great chemistry. I don't believe that we've heard all she's got to offer. She belts, she squeal, she's husky and then she's full. I for one look forward to her album. And let's not forget IBK Spaceshipboi. His falsetto is incredibly successful in this track, and those who watch the behind the scenes video will marvel at his talent. They both make it look so easy.  And as if all of that were not enough, the song has got a great message. It's got my stamp of approval.  Give it a listen will you?

Happy Days,
Afam

On the 9th of May, I wrote an article, a piece, a something on Kakadu The Musical (here). Because I cannot attend, I cannot comment about the quality of the play. I can however tell you what others thought about it. This is what the tweeps that saw it had to say about it.

This shit is actually really cool tho!!, its like a play, like dah movie burlesque. only a lil more cultural & narrative!! #KAKADUTHEMUSICAL
— Frank Gallagher (@Divinneee) May 9, 2013

'Kakadu' is a world-class musical now playing at the Agip hall at the Muson centre in Lagos but it runs over 3 hours long without a break!
— Debbie Peters (@dnpeters) May 9, 2013

It appears Nigerian theatre is as long as a Nollywood movie. I'm watching 'Kakadu' which is in its 3rd uninterrupted hour & not ending soon!
— Debbie Peters (@dnpeters) May 9, 2013

#NF @damikuks after seeing her fantastic performance in #Kakadu today.
— King D (@Dare_H) May 9, 2013

Saw #Kakadu today. Excellent play. Learned a lot about the Biafra war. If you're in Lagos go and see it tomorrow!
— GeneralKillahKillah (@OlaHolloway) May 9, 2013

Excellent Fela tribute tonight as well. The singing was so amazing. Well done to the cast/dancers/singers once again #Kakadu
— GeneralKillahKillah (@OlaHolloway) May 10, 2013

Kakadu the Musical is a must see by the way, and the clothing for the five main male characters was put together by yours truly *wink*
— Lhara Sot Thompson (@LharaSoTh) May 10, 2013

Slowly become a @lalaakindoju. Fan:) Nice one at Kakadu the musical. Didn't know you could sing so well too. Good one and long live d arts!
— Duvyz World (@talk2duvy) May 10, 2013

#kakadu! Splendid! Fantastic! Entertaining! A must see!
— john amechi okoye (@jamokoye) May 11, 2013

For those who love Stage plays & those who don't, visit the Muson Centre to watch the newly premiered 'Kakadu'....Thank me later.
— KD (@Ckandes) May 11, 2013

Happy Days,
Afam

A few weeks ago, inbetween my sets at the gym I found my ears assaulted by a vaguely familiar but new and altogether outrageous sound. For a second I was afraid that Nigerian music might have infiltrated the gym. Not that I'd mind, but, I can't deny that I would be shocked. The song (Girls Talkin' Bout)  has that Nigerian funky house vibe to it, so I thought it might be the new offering by WizKid or Dr Sid. I turned towards the television unsure of what exactly it would be displaying. I was even more surprised when I saw not one, not two, not three, but four little adolescents dancing. They're known as Mindless Behavior and their member are Prodigy, Ray Ray, Princeton and Roc Royal

It wasn't that the music was bad- and it really wasn't. It might have been several things but bad wasn't one of them. It was that they seemed to be stepping straight out of 2003, the year that I saw B2K in concert. Since B2k  and 112 were confined to obsolescence there hasn't been a successful black boy band. I thought we weren't due to see another for at least a decade and that even if there was one they would never be big enough to cross the Atlantic. Obviously I was wrong, for there I was at the gym watching this.

Like I said it isn't a bad pop song. That pretty much sums up everything about the song. While it is quite catchy, it isn't catchy enough to be addictive. It's no wonder they have the American tweens and quite a few cougars talking about them. Their debut album #1 Girl debuted on the Billboard Album top 200 chart at number 7.

Today I finished reading Pygmalion. It may come as no surprise to you that I enjoyed it immensely. The play by George Bernard Shaw is loosely based on the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. Pygmalion has been adapted into one highly successful musical and two movies: My Fair Lady and Educating Rita. I have watched both. As I tend to do with these things I shall type the lines that filled me with glee.

Henry Higgins: A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere- no right to live. Remember that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of articulate speech: that your native language is the language of Shakespear, Milton and The Bible.


Pickering: I think you ought to know, Doolittle, that Mr Higgin's intentions are entirely honourable.
 Doolittle: Course they are, Governor. If I thought they wasn't, I'd ask fifty.
 Higgins: (Revolted) Do you mean to say you callous rascal, that you would sell your daughter for £50?
Doolittle: Not in a general way i wouldn't; but to oblige a gentleman like you I'd do a good deal, I do assure you.
Pickering: Have you no morals, man?
Doolittle: (unabashed) Can't afford them, Governor...
(a brilliant exchange. It's not the funniest exchange but I still find it quite entertaining. This reminds me of Henry's (my Knight errant) affairs. The love of his life was enamoured with My Fair Lady.

 Higgins: I've picked up a girl.
Mrs. Higgins: Does that mean some girl has picked you up?
Higgins: Not at all. I don't mean a love affair.
Mrs. Higgins: What a pity!
Higgins: Why?
Mrs Higgins: Well, you never fall in love with anyone under forty-five. When will you discover that there are some rather nice looking young women about?
Higgins: Oh, I can't be bothered with young women. My idea of a loveable woman is something as like you as possible. I shall never get into the way of seriously liking young women: some habits lie too deep to be changed. Besides they're all idiots.
(I agree with Higgins completely. Young women are indeed all nincompoops I refer to a conversation I had with some 2 years ago...

Enter Frog and Labi
Afam: My dream car is the 1980s Mercedes. If I could get a second-hand, third-hand or even a fourth-hand version I would be infinitely pleased.
Labi: Is he joking?
Frog: I'm afraid not.
Labi: Wow. That's different.
Afam: What's wrong?
Frog: Please don't ever turn up at my house in such.
Afam: Why not?
Frog: I shall turn you away. Isn't that right Labi.
Labi: Yes! How could I be spotted with a man who drives a second hand vehicle?

 It struck me that they should be happy to be picked up by a man with a vehicle at all. Furthermore, anyone who knows anything knows that the 1980 Benz I was referring to is undoubtedly a classic.
(See below)

Isn't she lovely. Isn't she wonderful. This beauty can be yours for £12,000 from classiccar.co.uk

 if you wish to purchase this vehicle click here

We continue...

Mrs. Higgins: Will it rain, do you think?
Liza: The shallow depression in the west of these islands is likely to move slowly in an easterly direction. There are no indications of any great change in the barometrical situation.
(GUFFFAWWWW!!!! Oh the hilarity! I'll be sure to use this in conversation. Such delightful complexity can only be met with befuddlement.


The next lines are equally brilliant. It is a pity that they aren't featured in my Fair Lady.
Higgins: Yes, by George: it's the most absorbing experiment I ever tackled. She regularly fills our lives up; doesn't she Pick?
Pickering: We're always talking Eliza
Higgins: Teaching Eliza.
Pickering: Dressing Eliza.
Mrs Higgins: What!
Higgins: Inventing new Elizas.
Higgins: You know, she has the most extraordinary quickness of ear.
Pickering: I assure you, my dear Mrs. Higgins, that girl
speaking together
Higgins: Just like a parrot. I've tried with every
Pickering: is a genius. She can play the piano quite beautifully
Higgins: possible sort of sound that a human can make-
Pickering: We have taken her to classical concerts and to music
Higgins: Continental dialects, African dialects, Hottentot
Pickering: halls; and it's all the same to her: she plays everything
Higgins: clicks, things it took me years to get hold of; and
Pickering: Beethoven and Brahms or Lehar and Lionel Morickton;
Higgins: been at it all her life. though six months ago she'd never as
Pickering:much as touched a piano -
Mrs. Higgins:(putting her fingers in her ears as they are by this time shouting one another down with an intolerable noise) Sh-sh-sh-sh! [They stop].
Pickering: I beg your pardon.
Higgins: Sorry when Pickering starts nobody can get a word in edgewise.

This is clearly a case of the pot calling the kettle black. 


Higgins: You see, Eliza, all men are not confirmed old bachelors like me and the colonl. Most men are the marrying sort (Poor Devils)

Liza: I know. I am not blaming him. It is his way, isn't it? But it made such a difference to me that you didn't do it. You see, really and truly, apart from the things anyone can pick up (the dressing and the proper way of speaking, and so on), the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she's treated. I shall always be a flower girl to professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me like a lady and always will. (She speaks the truth.)

Higgins: If you can't appreciate what you've got, you'd better get what you can appreciate.

The best part of the play is the end. It's a sort of epilogue that is not written in the fashion of most plays. Shaw explains why Higgins and Eliza could not possibly be romantically involved and what happens next for those without an imagination. I was glad for this for I didn't want the story to end. I thought that the end was a big screw you to the makers of the movie my Fair Lady. I found that Educating Rita could hardly be called an adaptation of pygmalion because if it were Finding Forrester and any other movie or book involving a teacher and a student would be as well. In light of this the people at Netflix should read pygmalion lest they be sued for libel.  I shall now delight you with quotes from the end.

Shaw: The rest of the story need not be shown in action, and indeed, would hardly need retellling if our imaginations were not so enfeebled by their lazy dependence on the ready-mades and reach-me-downs of the ragshop in which Romance keeps it's stock of "happy endings" to misfit all stories.
The above is infinitely true. The endings that offer the most satisfaction are often the least interesting.

Shaw: (I had to paraphrase this one) The first necessity of a married woman is to come between him and his mother.
Shaw: "When you go to Nietzsche, "take your whip with you."
Just like that I find another name on my summer reading list, Nietzsche. It's looking like a long and hard June, July, August, September, and October.

Shaw: Galatea never does quite like Pygmalion: his relation to her is too godlike to be altogether agreeable.

The closing line of the book leaves much to be considered. Is this why we never quite like our parents and teachers? Moving on; I'm currently reading the Importance of Being Ernest.

Happy Days 
Afam

I no longer have any doubts my friends, I am definitely cursed. A few posts ago I complained about the universe guiding me to the most ridiculous and enjoyable films in the world. It seems that the universe has turned its ever present gaze to television. I just sat through 47 minutes of a new dating show on Fox called the Choice. The Choice is the Marriage of the Voice and So you think you can dance because it comes complete with Cat Deeley who is also the host of so you think you can dance and the revolving chairs of the voice. Stu Heritage needs to see this show, if he does I think his head will explode.

Basically, there are 4 bachelors in revolving chairs. A woman comes up and speaks for 30 seconds during which the four bachelors can turn around if they like what they hear. Each bachelor is allowed three women. The next stage is the speed dating round. Here each bachelor gets 15 seconds to speak to each of the three women chosen. At the end of this rounds one of the three women on each team gets dismissed. In the final round the bachelors ask Cat to ask the women from each team a question. At the end of this round they choose the girl they like the most.

The bachelors change every week. In this episode the bachelors are Romeo, "Days of Our lives" actor Jason Cook, Olympic skier Jeremy Bloom and Pauly D from the Jersey Shore. Against my better judgement I get involved. It takes a matter of minutes before I'm pumping my fist shouting yeah in my cubicle of a room. It feels like I'm watching people from a different galaxy on a quest for love because in as much as I do not support this new development in television I find myself enjoying it.

We get to see what happens on the dates tomorrow night. I'll leave you with one of the most important questions ever asked- What kind of buggery is this?

Happy days,
Afam.

Last night I had the singular pleasure or displeasure of seeing the disaster that is Heartbreakers (2001) starring Jennifer Love Hewitt and Sigourney Weaver. If you keep on reading I can't promise you that there won't be any spoilers as I continue to talk about this delightful mess of a film.

It's a classic tale told in a demented fashion. A mother, daughter team goes around conning men into marriage and divorce. I hope you're not thinking about asking about the point of this. Heck! I'd do it if I could, but it's too much effort and I haven't got the temperament for it. At the end of the first fake date I'd be seen declaring my undying love and affection from the top of my trusty Toyota Corolla and admitting that I wept when I saw the following films:

• Brave-heart
• Gladiator 
• Grave of the Fireflies (Anime)
• Moulin Rouge
• The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
• Never Let Me Go
• The Time Travelers Wife
• One Day
• The Notebook
• Up
• Bambi
• Goodnight Mr Tom
• The Lion King
• Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and;
• The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.

The movie is a romantic comedy, so you know that both the mother and the daughter find love in the end. To give you a fair idea of the fuckery I endured I took the time to transcribe some quotes from the film.

William B. Tensy: If it is at all possible can you slap her around a little bit? (When speaking to the cops after asking them to take his housekeeper away.)

Jack Withrowe: My friends have this theory that i'm in love with you? (When telling Page/Jane/Wendy/Allison that he's in love with her. He is the definition of a fool. The saying, a fool and his money are soon parted has never been more applicable.

Page Conners: Shut up mother (Explains mother-daughter relationship perfectly. It is also important to not that Paige Conners is a Conner... A brief pause for laughter.)

Max Conners/ Olga Yevanova: You know how the Lord feels about having men in hotel rooms.
William B. Tensen: Not when the man orders oysters, champagne and room service.
Olga weeps
William B. Tensen: No worries I didn't charge it to your room.
(Olga was trying to extricate herself from a tricky situation by using the timeless excuse that God is watching.)

Max Conners/Olga Yevanova: If you marry me i believe that puts kipposh on deportation. (This was said to William B. Tensen.

At the end of the film two questions came to mind.

1. How did I sit through this calamity?
2. Does the fact that I enjoyed it make me a moron?

If you do end up watching it I assume that you will ask yourselves the same questions at the end because I am the definition of normality.

Happy Days
Afam