Le 14 Juillet or Bastille Day has come and gone. Armed with my favorite bottle of pastis and a set of petanque balls I am ready to now celebrate this French holiday. Ennui has set in. I can not find anyone who will round up a little bourgeois wanna be francophile energy to care. Tossing some metal balls around my door yard is not sounding hopeful. Perhaps ears are shot from three weeks of vuvuzela or eyes are blurred from weeping over Lance in the TdF. In any case, I shall sing La Marseillaise , while strategizing my next toss.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Allons Enfants de la Patrie....
Le 14 Juillet or Bastille Day has come and gone. Armed with my favorite bottle of pastis and a set of petanque balls I am ready to now celebrate this French holiday. Ennui has set in. I can not find anyone who will round up a little bourgeois wanna be francophile energy to care. Tossing some metal balls around my door yard is not sounding hopeful. Perhaps ears are shot from three weeks of vuvuzela or eyes are blurred from weeping over Lance in the TdF. In any case, I shall sing La Marseillaise , while strategizing my next toss.
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