Like Joan, I go to the supermarket in fur, chapeau and dog
I love how Arlene artfully leaves one pinky resting against the basket as she uses her ring finger to press the packaged meat into its proper place.
What was on Joan's menu for the evening? Braised Poodle d'capers in a nice pepsi sauce?
Has Joan had one of her husbands pickled?
ah, arlene making sure that martin's meat is placed just so...might she have been packing the pieces needed to stage a remote "what's my loin"? (sorry, that is a groaner, isn't it.)and joan con cliquot....cliq looks traumatized. maybe they just left christina tied up on bristol?