The French Flunch

During the past year & a half that I have been living in Paris, I've naturally eaten at several French restaurants. The French love food & are (rightfully so) very proud of the food here.It often seems that there is a restaurant on every street. There are places with names such as: Taillevent, Le Dôme, L'Epi Dupin, La Charcuterie & La Tour d'Argent.All of those fancy-sounding French names are typical…but what wasn't so typical & the name that came as the biggest surprise to me was: Flunch.Fucking FLUNCH?How does this sound at all appetizing? Obviously, whomever the mental giant was that came up with this one needs to be punched in the brain. It seems quite apparent to me that there are much more suitable uses for a word such as "flunch"."Damn…I just stepped in flunch." "Stop flunching my leg." "Some sick bastard just flunched all over the bathroom floor."I've decided to work this word into my vernacular. While words such as...
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Everyone Has a Superpower

Every time my husband hits "pause" on the TV, it never fails to freeze the image of the person on the screen in an absolutely hilarious moment.The actor's face is frozen in the most unflattering expression, their body contorted leaving them looking hilariously fucked-up.That's his superpower.I have a superpower, too. Besides having the ability to make even very shitty dollar bills work in just about any vending machine, I also have animal-like claws. Yep, it's true. They grow at an unusually fast rate. I have to cut them every couple of weeks with a pair of those big-ass toenail clippers, but only after I've just gotten out of a very long and hot shower to get them into a semi-soft state. They are so hard that they almost never break. When they do break, it generally requires some quick, violent action and it's like snapping a piece of plastic; a loss of flesh and a great deal of blood is...
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No Shower = Idiot Repellant

One thing I really cannot stand is a ringing doorbell or phone while I'm eating. The fact that she came to our door as we were sitting in front of the TV stuffing out faces got her off to a really bad start.Olivier answered the door and found her standing there. Without saying "hello" or even introducing herself, she asked him if he spoke English. He told her that he did. For some reason, she continued to speak her shitty French in a German accent.Evidently, a neighbor had told her that Olivier is a professional computer geek. She said that she was in school and needed internet access to finish... I don't know - something for school. She insisted that Olivier come to her apartment and fix her computer so that she could use another neighbor's wireless connection. It was "urgent" she said.First she said that she had internet access, then she didn't. Obviously, this person was lying. My theory...
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The Monkeys Go West

The Monkeys Go West

So, this past weekend, Olivier and I went to see Monkey, Journey to the West. If you have the opportunity to catch this show, I highly recommend it.The music by Damon Albarn (Blur, Gorillaz) was excellent. The animation by Jamie Hewlett (Gorillaz) was just as cool as one would expect, but the performers from China were incredible. Sword fighting, dancing and acrobats... of course, there was even a contortionist. Olivier and I were in awe throughout the entire show.Who knew that a night at the opera could be so cool?There was one small matter, though -- the entire show was in Chinese. Okay, no big deal. There were French subtitles illuminated above the stage.French?! Yeah, I got to practice my French, too. What a full night.Oh... and there are two other monkeys that will be making a trip to the west. That's right. Olivier and I will be spending Christmas in Colorado.Not only will we get to spend some time...
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