It would seem that I have internalized our seemingly-perpetual (I think we’re at four weeks) inability to get to Fontainebleu as failure, and in understanding this as a failure, I seem to have completely overlooked that we have, in fact, been getting out; our visit to musée Cognacq-Jay (Marco!) and the musée Picasso (oh god …
Accusations of anthropomorphizing their relationship aside, Vorenus has a friend. Said friend is a crow that perches atop the church steeple, cawing to Vorenus, who then takes his place on the top of the cat tree and proceeds to chat at said crow. Should several days without an encounter pass, Vorenus will sit on top …
Were I forced to make an assessment of the past couple of weeks, I would provide a single-word response. “Clusterfuck,” I would say, and then I would complain about how asinine asking me to sum up an arbitrary period of time is, because that’s typically how I respond to being asked to do these things. …
Easter is the best holiday. It’s the best holiday for two reasons: first, despite the cuteness applied to all of the associated animals, it’s a sex-and-fertility party that has been (not particularly effectively, in my view) repurposed as a party for a zombie. My anthropology professor in college (oh liberal arts electives) hammered into us …
According to the substitute veterinarian, who lavished our resident giant with affection, Fezzik is not simply a fatass whose genetic wheel-of-fortune landed on “bon sang, this one is going to be fucking huge.” Rather, moose/beef/fat tuna/happy sushi/hey pig/piggles/fromage/pork (Fezzik has an incredible number of nicknames, owing to his eminent nicknamability) is an apparently-pure large variant …
While in Milan last weekend, I found my thought constantly returning to the historically fractious nature of Italy; there is little doubt that these thoughts were influenced by Barbara W. Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror, but I suspect even without having recently finished said book, I would have been thinking of the differing interests of the dukes …
While the actual mistake was made almost three weeks ago, my decision to share the uneaten portion of a loaf of pralus bread with the pigeons has had, shall we say, repercussions.
Strictly speaking, it’s not inaction that has resulted in the current lull in our extracurricular activities; the weekend before last, we dressed up and marched out of the apartment, dutifully entered the line at Fondation Louis Vuitton approximately 25 minutes before our designated entry time, and held out for the twenty or so minutes it …
In non-Marco-related news, we headed to the salon de l’agriculture this past Sunday. I’m not sure what made this year unique (perhaps the complete absence of fowl, owing to the H5N8 avian flu strain that’s resulting in mass culling in various regions), but it felt less like fun and more like a slog. I did not: give …
Due to my partner in crime’s absence, I am unable to attest to the entertainment to be had at any of the many balls; playing dress-up isn’t any fun alone. This isn’t to say that one couldn’t tell that we were in the midst of carnevale; in addition to the surprising number of adults in …
Fezzik In Paris 