What a prick!

I'm working on my French, I'm just lazy. But now that my dad's asked me to move heavy furniture about the house I'm concentrating on the editor's letter in some cheap French mag. But mon dieu, it is tres difficile to make head or tail of this! The editor is clearly saying something about the summer season, and it being the period of "maxi glande" but what the hell is this? A maxi gland? At lunch I ask my mum who tells me to get the dictionary down which I do. And next to "gland" it says "acorn" or "tassle" and quel gland means "what a prick!". Oh, how hilarious! A little acorn really is the perfect word!

I need expressions like this as I studied French literature and often find I'm lacking daily vocab. How often do I need to say things like "there are four alliterative words in the first line of this poem" when I'm shopping in France? "What a prick!" is far more useful. My dad likes it too and so my mum, my dad and me fall about laughing while we practice saying "Quel gland!" in various imagined scenarios.

After lunch I try and google "la periode de maxi glande" and guess what? The amazing Google people translate it all for me: here it is, verbatim, not that it really helps but it is pretty funny:

We are on July 1, start of the period of maximum gland which all French will benefit a little sense jusqu'au31 August, he is officially on vacation or not. The sand is less than marks on the cheek as the computer keyboard, but the principle of a nap during the day to go out all night is the same.
Yesterday, however, the triple world champion m'enfoutisme summer almost put his title due to a new iPhone app: Potential Model, which analyzes your photo and your measurements and tells you if you can do Kate Moss as business. I want to be supermodel? No. I honestly thought that I could be top model? No. I had other things to do between 11 hours and 16 hours? Ask my boss. Do I download this app? Of course. And I felt my brain slide down my spine while I filled the fields (name, age, height, weight ...), before taking, OK hundred and sixty-seven pictures, and send everything. Verdict: "average" - "blah", in VF. And again, I said I was 13 and measured 1.80 m 50 kg.
App asked me if I wanted to share this result on Facebook and Twitter and send it to a modeling agency (heu. .. right?). This is where I thought it was time to drop out.
This summer I n'updaterai not my Facebook status with every bite of bread bagnat, nor comment on any post of my six hundred virtual Sami, even the three that I know in real life. I will do something crazy quiconsiste to open his mouth rather than the flip of the phone when you want to talk to people. In addition, it will save me a dislocated right thumb and the tan lines on the abdomen Aug. 31. My phone and I are going to take a break: I was 3.0, it will be the RealLife, I swear on the head of Steve Jobs.