Paris, je t’aime.
Paris is truly my favourite city in the world. I just got back from there, and I fell in love with the place all over again. The atmosphere, the architecture, the sexy women, the incredible food; everything. I love it all. I’ve been to Paris many times over the years, and I enjoy it more and more every time I visit. I feel a strong kinship with Paris and Parisians, and much like Ernest Hemingway did, I find myself most attracted to Montparnasse and in particular the Jardin Du Luxembourg. I’ve also become taken with Versailles, once you escape the tourist trap that is the otherwise amazing palace. Paris is vibrant yet feels carefree, and it’s the coolest fucking place in the world.
Not only that, but every time I’m there, the stereotype of the rude Frenchman is shattered into a million erroneous fragments. I’ve never met one-they’ve always been nothing but friendly and helpful to me, even though I have the impressive knowledge of just three French words in my international vocabulary.
Coming back to London on Eurostar, I was met with an assortment of nationalities. As I sat there and listened to the irritating chatter of the insipid English, the relentless babble of the annoying Aussies, and the obnoxious squeaking of the typically corpulent Americans, all probably with brains emptier than an Ethiopian’s picnic basket, it dawned on me-the French cleanse me of my misanthropy, while everyone else just augments it. I like the French-THERE I SAID IT! They may be liberal-leaning surrender monkeys, but dammit, they’re fucking cool-and better than the English at almost everything.
The best thing about my trip though was the discovery of possibly the greatest invention since William Shatner’s toupee: Lion Bar Cereal. If you’re unaware, Lion Bars are Nestlé’s chocolate elixirs of the Gods, and to find them in the form of a breakfast meal was akin to losing one’s virginity in a sordid threesome with gorgeous Japanese twin schoolgirls that rearry ruv you rong time.
I had never seen this mystical, talismanic treat anywhere else before, and as far as I know it isn’t sold in England. But it’s delicious and kind of actually does taste like the bar, calories be damned. Just another reason to love Paris.