September 25th, 2008


Dear upstairs neighbors,

If you don't like each other don't be together. Beating up your girlfriend is not cool. Breaking the furniture in your apartment is not cool. Blasting gangster rap while you do so is not cool.

You are not only hurting yourself, you are behaving like a living cliche.

But, guess what, you are not a black American living in Compton. You are a middle class black French dude living in the most expensive section of one of the most expensive non-Paris cities in France.

You are not a gangster, nor are you living in a place where it's socially acceptable to blast NWA while you smack your bitch up. You don't own a fucking gun and you are not slinging crack on a street corner - so don't fucking act like it.



I realized yesterday why I almost never buy clothes.

I have no talent for shopping at all.

I took yesterday off to buy pants because I'm down to about two decent pairs and that's not enough. I went to like six different stores and had no fucking luck - and I wasn't being picky.

All I want is reasonably priced black or otherwise way dark pants that fit me that are a reasonable price.

The Gap had pants that fit the bill, but they wer 79 euros (almost $100) a pair, which is ridiculous.

The other five stores I was stuck trying to try stuff on because they use three different sizing systems - UK, US and EU - so I couldn't just go up and say pick up a pair of size 42, because it might be size 42 EU (too small) or size 42 US (too big.)

I finally found two pairs that were decent and 39 euros a pair, but the legs were too long. So I asked about getting them altered. They said they'd measure them for me and alter them but there were eight guys ahead of me in the alteration line - and when I looked they all had like eight pairs of pants each and I had no desire at all to stand around in a clothing store like an asshole for an hour with a bunch of too long pants.

So, I gave up and told Rome Girl I wanted her to come with me next time - because I noticed that all the dudes who had females with them seemed to get better service than the dudes who were there alone.

After that I went out and bought the new Stephen King book, just so I wouldn't show up at home empty handed.

Along the way I called up Rome Girl and we decided that it would be nice to have some sliced meats and cheese for dinner rather than cooking. So, I went to the charcuterie place and the dude did me up well.

But, then I went to the cheese store, told the lady what I had meat wise and asked for reasonable cheese. The only one she could suggest was cheddar, so I asked for a reasonable slice. She made the slice, put it on the scale and then told me it would be 19 euros ($25.)

Now there is no fucking way I'm going to spend $25 on a slice of cheese, so I said "thanks, but no thanks" but went to other cheese stores.

At those stores I was told that it is "not possible" to eat cheese with the type of meat I had.

What the fuck? I had ham and sausage! People eat cheese with ham and sausage.

On about the fourth cheese store I finally got someone to sell me a slice of reasonably priced cheese, but by that time I was ready to shoot wombats and go all Sarah Palin on the cheese shop ladies with an AK-47.

I also decided that shopping was not for me.