Fezzik In Paris

Two Americans, three cats, and too many places named "de Gaulle"

We’re in the midst of a recuperation weekend; the Purrito’s brief voyage back to Texas was draining to the point that we abandoned the normal keep-her-awake-by-running-around plans in favor of chilling chez nous.

All of which is supposed to provide a coherent establishing story to why I found myself standing on our balcony staring at the people on our street this afternoon (full disclosure: the rest of this time was spent playing The Witcher III, so I’m not at all complaining). Excluding the horse that somehow managed to leave a two meter-stain in the middle of one of the crosswalks (we’re on the leading edge of the tourist season; hold on to your butts), the most notable members of today’s parade of weird were two people on stilts, who were hawking the “grand opening” of the Bio c’bon that has been open for the last three months (that’s one hell of a soft opening).

For the record, The Witcher III is great.

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