Big City Dip Shit Games Vol. I

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
Since I've moved from the generally unknown small town of Loveland, Colorado to Paris, France, I have encountered, observed and been told about several activities that were previously unknown to me.I would like to share with all of you some of the things that I have learned should you ever want to participate in these activities yourself if you might happen to visit Paris, or any other very large and congested city that is crawling with dip shits.1. Fuck up a métro (subway/tube) station. Go to a very crowded métro station at rush hour. The bigger the clusterfuck, the better. Wait until you see a group of people approaching the exit. Push them all back so that you can enter through the exit.This is a lot more fun if you go with a group of friends, or if you have something very large to take with you like a baby stroller, a set of African drums or an enormous load...
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Puking Peril on the Way to Parensol

Puking Peril on the Way to Parensol

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
The first day of our vacation, Olivier and I were riding in the stuffed rental car with our yowling cat in the backseat on our way to Parensol in central France to spend the weekend with Olivier's parents. Cat was safely snuggled in her little traveling bag. About 30 minutes into the trip, we were on the Périphérique heading away from Paris when she began her signature "I'm about to blow chunks" wail. No hot, meaty smell wafted from behind, so we assumed that all was well. That was fucking stupid.We stopped a couple of hours later at a rest stop to eat. I held Cat's bag in my lap while trying to feed her bites of turkey through a wee hole near her head. She didn't seem to interested. We walked to the building to grab some coffee and have a pee, taking turns holding Cat's bag as we went inside. When I came outside, Olivier announced that he had discovered...
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Free Alphabet Lessons in the Basement

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
One of the most important things about moving to a new country is learning the language. Before I moved from Colorado to France, I had very little knowledge of the French language. The semester of French class I took in my sophomore year had almost vanished completely from my memory by the time I moved here when I was thirty-two.Sure…I had a few useless phrases & words. But I could only go so far on “Hello. I don’t have any diseases. Where is the bathroom thank you very much.”The good part is, the French government wants us to learn French. So much so that they’re willing to foot the bill for some French classes.The letter that they sent me provided the date & time of the class along with the address. The class was scheduled to start at 9am.I found the address – it was a church. It didn’t seem right, but...
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A Walk Among the Dead

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
Every now & then, Olivier & I go running amok in Paris because of the fact that there is so much to see & do here.Most of the time, the crowds, the long lines & general presence of the humans all get on my nerves. But there is one place here in the city that I enjoy not only for its beauty, but because the majority of people that are there can't bother me because for one, I have such a deep respect for them...& for another, because they're dead.That place is a famous cemetery called Père Lachaise.While wandering among the graves here, you're bound to recognize a few names. Like the French poet, Gérard de Nerval...“The first moments of sleep are an image of death; a hazy torpor grips our thoughts and it becomes impossible for us to determine the exact instant when the ''I,'' under another form, continues the task of existence." - Gérard de NervalNot...
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Enterrement de Vie de Garçon

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
“Enterrement de vie de garçon.” Basically, this translates to “burial/funeral of the boy”. No, it doesn’t necessarily mean that someone has died – well, not literally, anyway. This is what many of us refer to as “the Bachelor Party”. Naturally, I can’t speak for all French people, but I can tell you that the traditional pre-wedding festivities for the guys here isn’t the same as it is for most American guys.Based on my observations, it seems that the bachelor celebration in France consists of a few basic factors:- Attack the groom-to-be when he least expects it, and then abduct him.- Relieve the victim of his possessions. i.e., wallet, cell phone, etc.- Dress him in ridiculous clothes – the more humiliating, the better.- Take him to a highly populated area & display him before the public.- Get extremely fucking drunk.The activities that these...
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But, What Do They Think of Us? Part 2

by Rasmenia Comment Closed
1 – AMERICANS ARE VERY RELIGIOUSWe all know that this isn't true for all Americans. But it's impossible to live in America without hearing about God. "One nation, under God…blah, blah, blah…"It's even printed on the money, for chrissakes.In America, there's a church on what seems like every street corner in some towns. There are some people who go door to door waving their little propaganda brochures in the air hoping to convert someone.Well, the thing is, this shit just doesn't fly in France. While there are plenty of religious holidays & no shortage of churches, France is a secular state & no one is getting in your face about God or their beliefs here.It's not hard to understand why they've gotten this impression, if you ask me. Well, no one asked me. So what.2 – AMERICANS EAT AMERICAN SAUCELa Sauce Américaine. Yeah, I had never heard of it either. I've learned (from a French person) that this...
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