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Every now and again our mysterious overlord The Manolo descends from his Chilean ski lodge, jets over from his villa on Lago de Como, or pries himself out of the greedy Parisian grasp of that notorious publicity hound Yves Saint Laurent to visit upon us the linkie lurve, as his dear Texan friend Jerry pronounces it.
And this pleases us, it do. It makes us feel all tingly inside, like the Angels, sitting in the hot tub with Bosley, listening to Charlie sing their praises. And we look to once again do our best for him.

In particular, by stealing from him.

Oh, don’t look at me like that. Don’t you tell me that Sabrina, Jill and Kelly never took home a stapler. I only know they didn’t take home a pad of Post-its because they hadn’t been released to the public yet. But, come to think of it, Charlie would have had some anyway. Charlie was probably sleeping with Miss Moneypenny and getting all the cream James Bond was too high and mighty to skim off, the fool!

Right, the stealing. That brings us back to stealing. It’s a blog post about stealing.

Well, as you can imagine, a well-connected guy like The Big M knows a lot of people. Heck, I can’t count the times he’s told me to “take a message” when tiresome old Madonna, George Clooney, or Bono is on the line. He gets around. To places you and I have never heard of. Without paying the cover. And he brings back things like this…click on to see the Secret Files of the Manolo…

It’s Naptime at the Vatican!