So what, this scene of Camel's Dad gently scolding the family cat is the one that gets cut to for a bit of comic relief in between all the scenes of Camel getting it on with the guy with the big cock in her bedroom across the hall?

I won't deny that I feel cheated. I haven't felt like this since the days thirty-five years back when the British Board of Film Censors had the gall and cynicism to give their seal of approval to massively-edited "passed for public exhibition" versions of the classic hard-core porn pictures of the 70s. You'd pay two quid to watch Linda Lovelace or Marilyn Chambers getting on and off of subway trains for about forty-five minutes without ever seeing any of the parts that explained why she had that weird crooked smile on her face while she did so.

Soyez les bienvenus, malheureux souvenirs

Vous etes tout ce qui me reste de ma jeunesse.