PARIS HALLOWEEN OPTIONS

I'll be attending both events. No real costume in mind. I keep asking the frogs about their costume ideas, but to no avail. All I get are dull eyes, and pity.
I'm pretty confident that I can come up with something on the fly. Groucho Marx turned out quite nicely last year. All you need is $5 and a dad who smokes cigars from time to time.

ANDY BERET AIN'T RIGHT

France is a pansy ass most of the time, but when it comes to drinking it's your vitriolic grandmother. Where else will you see someone order a cognac at 9:30 am. You also have to hand it to the metro winos who continue to perpetuate a long and outdated stereotype. Shit they basically have bubbles floating out of their mouths every time they hiccup or yell obscenities at you on the subway platform. If only they had an icon to follow like the British and their Andy Capp.

HERO PAIN

Last night I was listening to Nostalgia radio in the car and I heard this amazing song by Daniel Balavoine "Je ne suis pas un hero." The song is a detailed account of a Baywatch: Nights! plot in which a rockstar Diego Silver goes on a killing spree after he becomes disenchanted with banging nameless broads, and being called a hero by the press. Listen as DB begs not to be called a hero over, and over, and over again. I can only assume that the recording session was similar to Feel My Heat.
Fun fact: the song managed to capture the French imagination, and Balavoine was made honorary president for a day, where he banned trampolines and magic tricks. He currently resides in the Galapagos with his pirate bride "Tina"

Daniel Balavoine-Je ne suis pas un hero (zshare)

SONY ROLLY

A few months ago I was asked to be an extra in a commercial my boss was shooting. It was for a musical egg. Personally I couldn't really see the use of it beyond a nice accessory for a mushroom trip, or to keep small children preoccupied for 6 minutes. The truth is I have very little interest in modern gadgets of this nature. Ipod I get, but a dancing egg? Fuck that. I'm so glad I can finally get this off my chest, I had to sign so release form, and I wasn't allowed to talk about the egg. Frankly, I think a little grassroots buzz never hurt anyone. Anyway here's the dancing egg video - in which I do not appear. At least I didn't organize a screening for all my friends and family, only to find out that I didn't make the cut.

Teaser Sony Rolly Dance Class
Uploaded by BriKO

RACIST BLACK GAYS!

I was in a rush, so I didn't check to see if they served Me So Solly soup (thanks GK), did laundry in the back, and had bucktooth waiters bumbling around and being hilarious. This reminds me that I definitely need to take photos all the shops/hotels/etc. that have statues of black men in their windows. Most of them are usually jazz musicians, or jockeys? Check out this knucklehead:


The truth is I could go on like this with just about any French brand on the market, sooo yeah I guess what I'm getting it at is that French people are all racist black gays.

BABY'S FIRST STRIKE

After so much hype I'm a little disappointed by the Strike. I mean if you're going to give the day an ominous name like "Black Thursday" you have to deliver something. M wondered if Sarkozy announced his divorce on the same day to put the focus on himself, rather than the strikers. Pretty brilliant strategy. The point is I didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary, I mean it was a bit harder to find a Velib to ride to work, but nothing serious, and frankly I should stop slacking, and start riding to work everyday. It probably takes less time, and I get to see tons of neat little shops. My new favourite street: Charonne. So here's a map of my voyage
What you can't see on my map is the giant fish water puddle I stepped in while attempting to cut through a market at Bastille. As my foot sunk into the ankle deep puddle I immediately felt the pain of a slapstick comedian hell bent on resurrecting his career: desperation, anger, and fish stink - with no one around to see it, well except for a lucky fish monger.
Later the same day I saw a wonderful pile of trash on the Blvd Magenta.All and all a successful strike!

WHA HAPPENED?

Got the new Hives record today. Was I a fool to believe that it'd be good? All the signs were right there, staring me in the face.
-They just finished a tour with Maroon 5 (HUH?!?!?)
-They did that Nike ad,
-They worked with Pharrell Williams who apparently decided he wanted to play Rock band again.
It seems so obvious now. In fact, it's like they got passed through one of those old-timey clothing presses. You can practically see an evil suit maniacally turning the crank, and laughing a hearty, despotic laugh.
Why didn't you people buy their last album? It was good. What happened to sticking it out for a band? I know they were part of that rock and roll revival, but is that a reason to forget them like some 2 dollar whore you decided to take a chance on? She was nice, she was exciting, and most of all she worked hard. And now you've dun gone and cast her aside like last week's Big Mac you decided to keep in the fridge for some reason. It ain't right.

Where do I go from here?

It seems like every movie I enjoyed in my childhood involved a tight ass business man trying to reconnect with his family (National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Plane Trains and Automobiles, Parenthood). In all these films there were a number of obligatory scenes: the busy New York street scene where the protagonist is either lost, or trying to run through the crowd (!) ideally with some South African flute music in the background to add dramatic flair. Then there's the scene when he walks through the busy office, and heads straight to his office where he proceeds shrink into his chair, and realize that his life has no meaning. These scenes always struck me as a kid. I always worried about ending up in an office, facing a computer and not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do. I mean did they teach that kind of thing in University? What other secrets did adults keep from me? More importantly, would I be discovered as a fraud when I eventually found my way into an office? Was there any other way to survive in the world if you didn't work in an office? This might have something to with the fact that life in these movies was always pricey and involved department stores likes Macy's which I assumed required a fancy office job.
Many of these questions still plague me. Currently, I think I might suffer from selective ADHD. For example: I probably shouldn't be writing this right now, but I can't help myself - also I'm stuck on the other things I have to write about. I tell myself that maybe if I worked from home I'd be able to manage my work schedule, but who am I kidding? I'd be like that terrible Adam @ Home comic that runs in the Toronto Star, and I DESPISE that comic.
Case and point:

Goddddd it's like one of those neverending Honks that happen on a Sunday when you're really hungover and it hurts to open your eyes.