Paris has many pigeons. Grey, speckled, white, a microcosm of pigeon culture, all with the same beady red eyes, watching, waiting. And, oh yes, they are all tremendously fat. I'm not talking about your average run of the mill fat pigeon. I'm talking about full on boisterous, carnivorous birds that spend their days bathing in… Continue reading Pigeons of Paris
(I wrote this about four days ago but quite frankly I am tired and full of croissants so deal with it.) Today I saw a French pimp, and I mean a pimp. Alex thinks that he was just black and coordinated, but that lime green top hat, cane, and matching shoes knows different. Not being… Continue reading Dear Paris, Was That a Pimp?
I'm away on my honeymoon! Yay me and also my new husband! In true form, however, the comedy has already begun. You can read some of my other open letters here, here, aaaand here. Dear Guy Sitting in Seat 22D on the Flight to Chichago, Listen, I get it. We’re both stuck in this whirling metal… Continue reading The Honeymoon Letter Series: #1