Elle fait une autre ville

Bonjour, mes petites coquettes! I’m again rounding the six-week mark, and you know what that means: it’s time to do another city—or, fingers crossed, will it do me? Like Brenda and Donna before us, we’re packing our ballet flats and menthol cigarettes for Paris, in search of un vrai experience avec beaucoup des garçons et le fromage. So in fond anticipation, a tribute—and/or scathing critique—of all things Français.

Now I know in my past I’ve had a throbbing hate-on for the damn dirty French—they’ve certainly pumped out their share of bimbos and fancy pants. You just know Napoleon’s a poindexter and I’m really sick of Jean-Jacques Rousseau being better than me. Recent disses include Angelina’s twins for merely being born there and referring to French facial hair as the “disgustashe.”

But three glasses of afternoon wine later, this investigative player-hater got to thinking: if France weren’t awesome, why would Johnny Depp move there?

Firstly, the good: we’ve got French kisses (mmm) and French baguettes (mmmmm). French fries—way better than chips, which suck unless accompanied with French onion dip—and French toast. Wear your hair in a timeless French twist, though you’d best skip the French braid you donned at early-90s ballet recitals.

It’s not all bonnes temps, however: if you ever want to be French kissed again, you’d best lay off the French dressing. The French horn is total balls and just look at the losers from French immersion. Feeling sexy? French knickers—they’re just English bloomers with a sluttier name—and French letters will have you rethinking your last tango (hold the butter, pervert). And don’t get me started on French maids.
Besides sex goddess Bridget Bardot and sex predator Gerard Depardieu, the land of pastries and innuendos boasts the French princess from Braveheart and lil’ stinker Pepé le Pew. Amelie was pretty good, albeit a little too… French. The point is, French women don’t get fat and French men may not be (but probably are) as bad as previously assumed. This Canadian girl in Paris will let you know, n’est-ce pas?

No Comments

  1. Anonymous
    April 8, 2009

    Crepes and fondue and creme brulee… oh my! 🙂 I’m hungry for Paris already…

    Just stay away from the dangerously beautiful French strippers… I love you, Martin!

  2. KK
    April 16, 2009

    Dear CultureCounter, did you have any French boys ask you “voulez-vou couchez avec moi c’est soir?”

    Because I bet you had lots. Of boys asking, that is. Far be it for me to make assessments on your promiscuity.

    But I bet you did.

    Because I’m slightly intoxicated. But nowhere less sincere.

  3. A French Girl
    April 16, 2009

    Do you know that Jean Jacques Rousseau is not French?
    Do you know that France is the most touristic country in the world? ( It is obviously an awesome country)
    Do you know that we say “unE vraiE expérience”,”Du Bon temps”?

    So shut the fuck up lol

  4. Anonymous
    April 17, 2009

    You forgot french girls=totally bitchy.

  5. I heart Rosebud
    April 22, 2009

    Dear French Girl,

    Do you know what irony is?
    Do you know that though Rousseau was bron in Geneva, hes got one hell of a French name?
    Do you know that you just totally nailed a French stereotype?

    Though, I’ll take your men, your cheese, and Amelie anyday…

    au revoir!

    no wonder Rousseau fled France…yikes!

  6. Femme fatales
    April 22, 2009

    Clearly, les Français seem to lack le tongue in cheek…

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