A Taste of French...just add salt.

In honor of losing an epic blog to the perils of laptop computing, I have no choice but to post a rambler. You see, I've been struggling to regain that same stream of thought that allowed to be plow through hundreds upon thousands of words concering the circus in NY surrounding the World's Oldest Man being paid the World's Largest Salary per the World's Biggest D-Bag/Owner. Alas, I cannot continue to jog my brain in fear that I might run it right into the ground. So, I share my thoughts of the day with you, kind reader.

My hair is approaching mullet status as of late. I had a plan after my last haircut of letting it grow until the first day of summer or thereabouts. At that point, I was planning on giving myself the old stand-by, summer do, known as the wiffle or shorty. Now I'm not so sure that I will carry out that mission because I am feeling like my hair project has been one of great success. But there is something to be said about the shaved dome for those hot, summer days and nights. I just don't know what my next move will be.

My buddy Tom and I have been speculating about one of our co-workers and his whereabouts over these last few days and we suspect that he is knee deep in paella at his house. The latest comment was that he had filled up his bathtub with paella and he can't leave the house until it's all been consumed. I've been giggling about this every few minutes or so, because the thought of someone actually filling a bathtub with paella is particularly amusing. Tom's last addition was that perhaps he has now broken out his Foreman Grill and started cooking up some meats to accompany the paella. The possibilities appear to be endless with this one.

On top of that previous workday distraction, I've encountered the most success I've ever had in Vegas-style, three cards-per-draw Solitaire over the course of today. I'm up to $1147 after a fresh deal of the cards. I don't think I've ever accumulated this much money in Solitaire, nor have I ever played 6 straight hours of it in one sitting. That makes TWO firsts for me in one day. How many of you can say that about your day today? No one? I thought not.

My best guess for what number Randy Moss will choose to sport on his shiny, new Patriots jersey is 11. I can't imagine he'll go back to a number in the 80's because most of them are taken. 84 is gone, 88 is gone and finally, his latest number of 18 that he wore in Oakland is gone. He really doesn't have too many choices and I feel like 11 could be money for him in New England. Richie has stated that he should go with number 1, which also would be money. I wonder how many fans will show up at Gillette for the first game, donning a Moss jersey.

I should have mentioned this earlier, but I experienced a new kind of joy this past weekend and it has just occured to me that I should share it. La and I bought my nephew Aaron a Papelbon jersey on Saturday and he put it on as soon as we gave it to him. He's really weird about the Red Sox because while he has no blessed clue who they are or what they mean to me, my Dad and La, he recognizes the logo. He should by now, considering he owns hordes of Sox gear and sees my parents' Sox flag nearly everyday that hangs on their front porch. But whenever he realizes the Sox logo in his presence, he exclaims "Red Sox player!" It's strange, but very amusing. Anyway, when he put the jersey on for the first time, he started running as if there were bases, and in the opposite direction. He'd run like he was going from home to third to second and so on. I guess it was sort of appropriate, since he's so young and has kind of a backwards perception of organized sports at this point in his life.

Finally, please enjoy this artilce that was just now forwarded to me by Bowen:

"Conservatives have to stop rolling their eyes every time they hear the word, "France." Like just calling something "French" is the ultimate argument winner. As if to say, "What can you say about a country that was too stupid to get on board with our wonderfully-conceived and brilliantly-executed war in Iraq?"

And, yet, an American politician could not survive if he uttered the simple, true statement, "France has a better health care system than we do, and we should steal it." Because here, simply dismissing an idea as French passes for an argument. "John Kerry? Couldn't vote for him; he looked French." Yeah, as opposed to the other guy who just looked stupid.

Now, last week, France had an election, and people over there approach an election differently. They vote. Eighty-five percent of them turned out. You couldn't get 85% of Americans to get off the couch if there was an election between "Tits" and "Bigger Tits," and they were handing out free samples!

Now, maybe the high turnout has something to do with the fact that the French candidates are never asked where they stand on evolution, prayer in school, abortion, stem cell research or gay marriage. And if the candidate knows about a character in a book other than Jesus, it's not a drawback.

The electorate doesn't vote for the guy they want to have a croissant with; nor do they care about private lives. In the current race, Ségolène Royal has four kids, but she never got married. And she's a Socialist. In America, if a Democrat even thinks you're calling him "liberal," he grabs an orange vest and a rifle and heads into the woods to kill something!

Madame Royal's opponent is married, but they live apart and lead separate lives. And the people are okay with that for the same reason they're okay with nude beaches; because they're not a nation of six-year-olds who scream and giggle if they see pee-pee parts!

They have weird ideas about privacy. They think it should be private. In France, even the mistresses have mistresses. To not have a lady on the side says to the voters, "I'm no good at multi-tasking."

Now, like any country, France has its faults, like all that ridiculous accordion music. But, their health care is the best in the industrialized world. As is their poverty rate. And they're completely independent of Mid East oil. And they're the greenest country. And they're not fat. And they have public intellectuals in France. We have Dr. Phil!

They invented sex during the day, lingerie and the tongue. Can't we admit we could learn something from them?

So, from now on, all you high-ranking Bush Administration officials, because the French are righter than you on most things, when France comes up in conversation, you are not allowed to roll your eyes. The only time you get to do that is when your hooker from Ms. Julia is blowing you."