C’est dingue fils

“‘Qu’est-ce que c’est ‘dingue?'”
“C’est moi.”

I went to Paris this weekend alone, met up with Bri, then with Anya, and then mosey’d back to Bordeaux via train. France has made a habit out of cheating on me, but it all came to a beautifully abrupt halt in Paris. I had a goddamn great time, and I really can’t do the city justice with words and pictures, but I will try. Meanwhile, my computer crashed so the posts will be few and far between, but up next is Portugal, more France, Croatia and then Germany. Cross your fingers for me.

I stayed in a hostel in the 6me arrondissement the first night. I met a bunch of international kids and we all went out for beer around midnight. This is Rue de Moufftard which was pretty bangin’ at night time.

At least France knows that black people like to be represented as the servants of white people. Also, the word n

Carnival for Carneval

I’m pretty sure carneval is supposed to be before lent because it’s like the last indulgence before the celibacy. Right? Well France always has to do shit its own way because it’s full of dickfaces that like to rip-off foreigners at caf