July 14
And you know what that means. We're getting our French on here today, celebrating Bastille Day in the best way we know how. Um, well, actually, The Spouse is out making a movie, The Child is at a sleepover and is then going to go on a tour of urban chicken coops and I'm fixin' to play videos over at the club. But later we'll eat boullaibaise and aioli and drink red wine and sing "La Marseillaise" until the Germans shut the frak up. Viva la France!
Labels: festival day
cobbled together by Moi at 9:23 AM
15 Comments:
Woo Hoo!..I love Bastille day.
..way to shut them mean old Germans up. ;)
In lieu of french kissing, I plan to have french fries at some point today. That totally counts, right?
Me, too, Sling.
Totally, Hat. I may do the same. That sounds yummers.
beautiful new blog... mine is being retarded.
Thanks, Mols. Sorry yours is misbehaving. Maybe I should hook you up with The Hat.
Damn my need to help people!
(curse curse curse)
Okaaaay...what seems to be the problem? (I do enjoy donning the tool belt however. Makes me feel so butch).
p.s. that's the only scene i like in that movie. the rest of it... i wanted to kill her. she was ridiculous.
so, how was the french dinner?
i myself am totally stuffed on brie and creme brulee (and yes - i totally finished off three different brands of brie by myself).
Haw haw haw. Oui.
Hat, you look almost as fetching in the tool belt as you do in the hat.
Mols, really?? I mean, I love it, too, but dang, really? I lurve that movie in its entirety. Hello. "Entirety" looks really, really wrong.
Brat, darling, it was superfantastic. I expect to ooze garlic from every pore for days. (And thanks so much for coming to the club today...it was awesome to have you around).
Iwanski: Oui. Mais oui.
The Swiss Son is half french so he almost made me sing in french-- ya and then I reminded him I hold his air line ticket and have access to all of his personal belongings.
Je crois que c'est bien, ca...
Mouse, plus there's that whole chopping him up in bits and distributing the bits far and wide so he'd never be found again thing.
Bon jour, Paul. It is well.
Happy belated Bastille day to you.
Merci, Suzanne. (I pronounced your name with a French accent).
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