home
In Soviet Russia, blog reads you.
recent posts
The World Bank Because I Said So! Click Here!© Free-Association Happy Birthday to Me! Click Here!© 50 in 05© My Chart Click Here!© Kakistocracy©
CONTACT
ARCHIVES
March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006
Support Structure
|
Thursday, March 17, 2005
On The Train...
I love the city.
I was on the Metro, and I found myself talking with a good looking young man from France. (Here, young man means someone only a year or two older than I am. I shouldn't brag, but I'll only be twenty once, maybe twice, the way medical science is advancing.) This young man does something at the French embassy, but I couldn't understand exactly what. He apologized: My English is not good. I flirted: You're English is better than my French. I know only merci, oui, and merde. He smiled, to assure me that some things can be communicated without language. Then we were at his stop. He turned and waved goodbye as the escalator carried him into a long, dark tunnelor, more accurately, out of one. And that is how I almost went out with a Frenchman. Who knows what I'll almost do tomorrow. Didnt you learn anything from the War in Iraq?? You CANNOT trust those Frenchmen!! GUY At least you know he was out of high school this time! You go big J! Laura I was married to one .. they are not all that.. I was married to one .. they are not all that..Post a Comment |