I have taken seven years of French. I can order a crepe and a glass of red wine. Additionally, I have ordered a Jesus steak, but we will get to that later.
At any rate, my French is super crap, seriously mediocre. Regardless, I have ventured to France with poor friend A in tow, in order to eat many crepes and drink many glasses of red wine. I was a bit afraid to enter the nation of macaroons and bald soccer (futball) players, not to mention that weird skunk guy on Les Loony Tunes, but I went ahead, bravely going where many tres stupide American etudiantes have gone before.
1. Crepes are awesome.
2. Wine is better.
3. Let me tell you our tale.
A and I have chosen to travel at our own pace. Weird tourist buses are not for us. However, neither are super cool French places with lots of super cool French people.
We did try to sight see …
R: What’s that, it looks like a government building? Oh wait, it’s the Louvre.
A: Looks smaller than I remembered.
R: The Louvre?
A: No, the l’Arc de Triomphe!
R: That’s just an archway.
Whateva!! Who needs old monuments anyway?
And we tried to do the super French thing…
A and I were strolling along the Seine wispering sweet nothings to the ages and gazing at our berets in the reflection of the diseased water. All of a sudden, we came upon a model posing for a shoot with an older white haired … OMFG … Karl Lagerfeld (IT’S TRUE). As super cool party French people, we should have just glided by, as the fashion industry is just one of many elements of French awesomeness that we would be well-acquainted with.
We didn’t know what to do. So our feet tried to glide and our faces tried to gawk. Needless to say, it was not comfortable. However, we looked so weird that one of our good friend Karls’s lackeys smiled and winked at us …
The day continued with a delicious lunch/brunch. It then further continued with salads and coffee. The salad was call “Ivan the Terrible.” Lies, Ivan the salad was great! I think you can see that our trip circles around food and beverages; we were avoiding water because my good friend homeless Jeff had given us the address of his friend Pierre in Paris. Pierre had told us about these alien parasites that are living in the French water. As a result, we can only drink wine and coffee. It’s such a drag.
Sleepy and overwhelmed by wine, coffee and hot chocolate, we ran to the metro so that it could carry us back to the hotel with the fat cats. We weren’t sure of our next move, but, luckily, we were instantly inspired by the French advertising industry and their tween audiences who had plasted Zac Efron’s gleaming smile all over the walls of the metro. So, we rushed back to our Parisian bungalow (random room in random area with fat cats) in order to watch some HSM and relax after our sightseeing adventures. It was intense. We wished that we had seen Zac with Karl and then we could have sat him down and said: “It’s OK! We know you love your alabaster-skinned costar of the Kangol persuasion!” Karl would have added his infinite wisdom before flying down the street to the vampire neighborhood convention. Apparently, they have a problem with zoning. Vampires from Lyon are mooching, the bastards.
Paris, Zac, A, Pierre and Karl and I gathered to watch the movie / scorn Vanessa Hoodwink or whatever. Needless to say, the events of the day are fuzzy. Sadly, we woke up alone. Zac must have flown back to Neverland with his be-Kangoled friend. Karl, the old bag, was passed out on the floor. Paris was mocking us with a heavy rain. Pierre had fled the marauding spy super troopers of the parasitic army.
Despite the weather’s attitude problem, we forged ahead!
Enter the Jesus steak.
A friend had recommended a restaurant said to have the “best steak in Paris.” So we grabbed a baguette for the road and headed for the place. It truly was the messiah of meats. If you ever go to Paris you must try Le Severo in the 14th. Your soul will fly straight into the heavens with that of the cow you just mercilessly murdered! Mwahahahah dead cow!
The meat is so good it will make you lose your mind and forget about the Parisian alien invasion! So we had some water and, thus, this may be our last correspondence.
In the end, despite the rain and oncoming paralysis, the steak was worth it and so was Paris.