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I'm dancing milk...you'll need a straw.
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I like black cats...

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I am half French, quarter Jew (Polish & Russian) and one eighth English, one eighth Scottish. Confused? I am....
My paternal grandmother's name was Yetta Jacobobich, but she changed her name to Edith Jacobs when she fell in love with my goyim grandfather. My grandfather was born in Scotland of an absent British father (all he gave was his name). When his mother died, he & his little sister came to America to live with spinster aunts. The kids would pick on him because of his strong Scottish accent. So he learned to fight. And also to sing so he could make money on the streets of Boston to spend at the pool hall. Albert Charles Sr. was a rascal and lived on the streets, a real wild child. He spent time in prison after WW1 because he did not enlist (he maintained he was a British citizen). While in prison, he was on the local farming program and would secretely grow cannibus in the middle of a corn field with his buddy, who in turn would sell these cigarettes to inmates. When he got out he continued traveling westward, hopping trains town to town going west to catch up with his sister and aunts who had since moved to California; they were his only living relatives left in America. He would get an oddball job (from coal mining to working with the horses in a circus) and quit on his birthday, then hop on another train westward. When he met my grandmother, she tamed the wild child. They settled in South Gate and raised three kids. Albert had a 9-5 job working at Firestone yet would be a wild child again betting his paycheck at the horse tracks.
My maternal grandmother's name was Marguerite Puyravaud (or mémé to me). She was married to Alfred who had served in the French Army during WW1. Alfred had battle scars on his chest from shrapnel wounds and would proudly rip his shirt open to show them off whenever he had the chance. He was also exposed to gas the Germans used which shortened his life span. He died when my mom was only 15 yrs old, although he was nearly 45 when she was born. Alfred worked for the railroad and during WW2 when the Germans occupied their little village he was often rounded up with the rest of the men in town for questioning at the local grammar school that had been temporarily fashioned into a war prison. Marguerite would work at her husband's train toll bridge in his absence and at one time, while in a bold & vengeful mood, she almost tricked some German officers to drive their car over the tracks in front of an oncoming train. My aunt also slapped a German soldier when he flirted with her which freaked the family out. They all thought they would get shot for it. Once when my mother was very young, she witnessed the French underground ambushing a German officer and vicously shot him dead while he begged for his life. Between that and the air raids & sirens, she was traumatized ever since. Even after the war ended, as ong as a year, the Germans would not leave those little villages in the south of France. The Americans had to BOMB the towns to make the Germans leave.
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My father met my mother in the south of France, a beautiful town on the west coast, La Rochelle. He had joined the army for the GI bill so he could go back to school and get a higher degree. He also wanted to see the world, specifically France as he studied art. It was the opportunity to follow in the masters' footsteps. My dad was stationed in the American base near La Rochelle. My mother and her cousin Colette with her best friend Marthe worked for the American army, as they were well-versed in English and had secretarial skills.
One day my father met my mother at a dance...eager to impress the young French girl, he quickly recited his French 'pick up line: "Vous êtes la plus belle de la monde" which means something like...you are the most beautiful in the world. HOWEVER...he did not say "la plus belle" as in the most beautiful....what he did say was "la poubelle" which means...'dust bin' or better yet, 'trash can.' Yep. Uhuh. He did.
Did I tell you I like black cats?
Y'all are invited to my wedding! Check it out: .. Create your own video at One True Media
We have three black cats: Zelda the old bitch...she's the queen, the huntress, the watch-dog. She can stare down a rattle snake and eat rodents' heads whole.

Then there are the kittens, brother Chad and sister Somalia (Molly), the new babies.

Chad, stuck in a tree:
Racing Baby tells me what to do.

My new moniker:
Catch me on 360 Yahoo! FrenchCori
*April 27-28,2008* American Cancer Society Riverside RELAY FOR LIFE! Ramona High School, RIVERSIDE CA
Click to join riversiderelayforlife
Check me out at Funny Or Die: www.funnyordie.com/frenchcori
Riverside 2008 Relay For Life! *April 26-27 Ramona High School* Click here and join me in my fight against Cancer!