Category Archives: kitsch

J’adore this song, part 2

I don’t know why, but I absolutely LOVE this cheesy 80s song, SUPER NANA (translates to “Super Chick”), by Michel Jonasz.

The crowd’s pretty lame,  n’est pas? If that was a bunch of Americans, we’d all be going apeshit when it was our turn to sing, waving our lighters in the air and competing with each other for a little face-time in front of the camera.

Have a look and you will understand how this man can get away with having an S and a Z at the end of his name.

Fifi is in grave danger of having really bad hair

Fifi is currently roaming around Texas with Toni and Gilbert, while they wrap up their exposé on the Parises of the United States. I must admit it’s been kind of nice to have my own apartment for a few days. I’m free to be a total slob and have to be accountable to no one.

But something worries me. I haven’t slept well since he’s gone. Just before he left, I caught him staring at himself in the mirror. He said, “You know? I really need a hair cut. I think I’m going to get one while I’m in Texas.”
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How French!

There’s actually a company that will help you have an affair safely, by giving you legitimate excuses!

Read the New York Times article by clicking here.

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Wildwood Blogs!

For those French-speaking readers out there, you might want to read Gilbert’s eloquent and touching post on our weekend in Wildwood.  Even if you can’t read French, you can still look at his You Tube videos which are really swell!

And if you haven’t checked out Toni’s blog yet, don’t be a stranger.  He is a very talented photographer.

Wild, Wild Wildwood Days

Toni, Gilbert, Marie, Fifi and I decided to go to Wildwood-by-the-sea, New Jersey, for the weekend. It was decidedly a very American weekend, but with some Froggie flare.

The most obvious of differences was their disinterest in eating all the junk food Wildwood has to offer. Cheese steaks, hoagies, funnel cake, curley fries, ice cream, water ice…this didn’t interest the Frenchies one bit. Perhaps this is why French people generally don’t look like this:

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So it was lonely for me, wanting to stuff my face whilst my French companions responded that they weren’t hungry, we’d just eaten, etc, etc. Blah blah blah.

Meanwhile, I wonder why I find myself shopping at Lerner New York & Co.

I digress. We stayed at The Jolly Roger Motel.

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We used to stay at this very motel when I was a kid when we would come for a few days every summer with my aunts and cousins. I recall it being slightly run-down, with surly help behind the reception desk. It hasn’t changed at all. Really.

Mike, a squat man with serious facial hair art and a tattoo of Jesus on his forearm, was working the evening shift and definitely gave me his fair share of ‘tude. When there wasn’t a cot available for our use—after I called to confirm it twice before our arrival—he told me he didn’t care about our measly cot because he’d been to war and killed people. Needless to say, I didn’t know quite how to respond to that, so poor Toni had to sleep on the floor.

Despite that small setback, we had a great view of the shuffleboard and tennis courts from our balcony, and I slept better than I’ve slept in a long time.

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We had beautiful weather. We went to the beach for part of the day and then spent the rest of the day going on rides. It was so great to act just like a kid for few hours.

We had two big showdowns on the go-cart course.

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Fifi really showed us his moves; he passed everyone!

Then we went out for a mediocre, insanely overpriced seafood dinner, with yet again, surly help.

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There is nothing quite like Wildwood anywhere on the planet so it didn’t really surprise me that the Frenchies found it pretty exotic and exciting. I was pretty surprised and excited to rediscover it for myself, and it is actually better than I remember! We were sad to leave, but we all said we’d be back. But we won’t be staying at the Jolly Roger next time.

Gros bisous à Toni pour ces photos là.