Showing posts with label Mebbe the French know somethin' about art after all. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mebbe the French know somethin' about art after all. Show all posts

4.27.2011

FOR ONCE the FRENCH ARE RIGHT




It is real fun, ain't it, to dis the French?


Silly posturing people...folks who let poodles eat from human's dinner plates. ( yeah, I know that the food on the plate is likely superb).

People who feign That Look ( like a queasy stomach might go projectile ) when an American is seated next to their poodle.


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The sort of people who produce diplomats like Dominique de Villepin. Who, fer the record, had his hauteur dealt a death blow by American "ham fisted" diplomat, Jed Babbin. Babbin said of the French refusal to assist in Iraq, "going to war without France is like going deer hunting without an accordion.''

The French are a People who respond with hauteur instead of customer service when ya' spend beaucoup Euro fer a 3 ounce nightie. (Natcherly, Aunty asked for pin tucked batiste wif' pearl buttons and the thar' wuz beaucoup raised eyebrows, if a wee less hauteur.)

The French perfected perfume to camouflage their national aversion to more than one bath per week.


A country wif' more unnatural hair colors than a Smurf movie.


Haven't they heard
Le Concorde left the line-up wif' a bloody nose?

The French invented fair-weather friends.

These folks is so full of... that stuff.

No wonder the French use more suppositories than all other Euro-nations
combined. Thar's somethin' of cosmic justice in the French Suppository Surge: Serves 'em right fer force feedin' all them poor foie gras duckies.

What do you expect from people who left 16,000 elderly to die during the August 2003 heatwave because it was the annual Le Vacation, an one cannot be bothered to turn the Citroen around for Pa Pa, right?

They sniff at American "nation building" --well, ok, say so, but the
sniff? Sniff at us will ya'? We oughta invade France and do a little nation buildin.' We need a foreign success right now. Heck, with jes' 10 % shock an awe, we'd own the place. No more duties on Dom Perignon. If they squeal, we'll invoke Napoleon.

But, onc't in awhile Le French Frites git somethin' absolutely Right.

I woke up Easter Monday to find that the French were p---ed about a very famous P-ss.


For this singular reasonableness, I applaud Le Grenouille.



* photos filched from Street Photography in Paris

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