Recently, I read a satire on the French and living with the French. It made me hungry for croissant and cafe au lait, and a long-legged French hottie. It also made me want to emigrate to someplace different than America, which I base mostly on my vague dissatisfaction with the current conditions.

Paris, France. It's tempting, isn't it? So many great minds have gone there, so many artists, poets, as well as designers, that it's more like an ideal than a city. It's beautiful, if you don't mind the occasional merde. If only to visit for a day, and float in a boat on the

blog comments powered by Disqus