How brilliant am I???
Nevermind. Don’t answer that. Yes you in the back, I said shut it or I throw the frying pan to hit you in between the eyes. I thought I was going to have this BRILLIANT post about how I met and absolutely fell in love with Jackie and Bonne Marie this past week/weekend and had a lovely time with all at the KIP and at dinner with Kate. How Bonne Marie cleared things up for me and said my knitting was lovely. I had a pictorial all ready to go with some pretty damn impressive shit if I do say so myself. It was glorious news. I even thought about writing about all the crazy things happening here in France. But no that news report has been interrupted by the breaking news of OHHHHH FUCK! That brilliant reporting will have to wait till tomorrow. So the Harlot had a household go at Ikea; me I have nothing against Sweden (despite their transport gods, actually it is to the contrary of that as a friend just made a brilliant set up with someone in Sweden) but the French it is another story. Let me fucking tell you. I live in an old building, not Miami built in 1950 old, but OLD. Yes I pay to live in a building that Napoleon’s Josephine lived in old. Poutres (i.e. ceiling beams) that look like the termites have had a serious go at them, but in Paris poutres are a serious deal both price and marketing wise, old. Old buildings have their character, quirks and pains in the ass. And in the endless fucking rigamarole with these fucking Yahoo’s; the people that are the “syndicat” for the building fucked up on the insect care for this year. As you might guess in an old building with restaurants on ground floor this is a wee bit of an issue. So of course you know that my flat has been invaded and infiltrated by a not so fucking nice bug. A very not so fucking nice bug that is FUCKALL to get rid of; though my landlord is not so sure about the bug being as nasty as I said. Everything I read in French is blaisé so he says what is so bad… Are you fucking kidding me?? In English it says burn the fucking building down. And given what I know, I agree with the English version. Yeah can’t be no ordinary run of the mill coackroach or fleas for Tink… So I screamed and flailed to my landlord to the point that I at least got the futon, where I think they shifted from the wall and infested thus “piquing” me- forcing me to sleep on the floor (trust me I am not pleasant in the morning, after sleeping on concrete I am even less so), replaced. That was 2-3 weeks ago. It looked good, I thought hey maybe they aren’t in residence in the carpet etc. They are gone, WHEW. Crisis averted, enjoy summer. Hold on. NOT.SO.FAST. Yeah let’s shoot that dream down with a b-b gun for Chrismas. I am paranoid and with good reason as today I am bitten again and see another bug; my first thought was FUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKK NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. The second one was fuck Buddhism for the next minute I am KILLING this fucker, and I will take pleasure in that act. Then we proceeded to think about the possibilities of burning the fuckers. Insert visions of bug families bloody burning in the dryer’s inferno. Launch brilliant multi-tasking idea. Note to self NEVER try multi-tasking EVER again; it leads to you making fuck ups so that you look like an ass and cost you dearly. I had to do laundry so I stripped off the futon cover and shoved it in a dryer for an hour, shifting it around so that all parts would get enough heat to kill all the babies. Yup Chez Tink we want to kill babies, baby bugs that is. UMMMM yeah and that would be when the grand fuck up happened my friends. It turns out futon cover must be made of some French version of shrinky-dink plastic techno fabric. Can you guess where this is going??? Come now I know you are all smart people guess… Don’t worry I’ll wait for you to come to the conclusion. . . Yes my friends I have irreversibly shrunk the crap cover to this new futon. Repeat after me- FUCKTASTIC. I tried ripping some of the internal bits to make it stretch more. Nope that does not work, and not only did it shrink but it is bunched all the fuck up. Big clumps of plASStick bunching together to the point that the fucking fabric does not lay flat clumped up. Do you notice the LIBERAL use of the work FUCK. That is because of this fucking syndicat not spraying for bugs; and not doing so since I proved to my landlord that it was in fucking fact the not so fucking nice bug I told him it was; the one that has fucking crawled up my ass and made me fucking dance monkey dance; now I am going to have to call my landlord on this AGAIN and replace this fucking crap futon cover. Don’t you know my Irish genetics will kick in and it will cost an OBNOXIOUS sum to replace too... There goes the yarn and birthday pressie money, but consolation, I am still in France and ummmm... oh yeah the exchange rate is going down in response to EU Constitutional votes. So in short there is only one word for today. FUCK!