"Just Ignore Those Firetrucks..."

We've been asked not to come back to the Eiffel Tower.



And we've been asked not to come back to Hotel Du Loiret as well.




This is basically what Paris looked like when we got done with it. And they've asked us not to return. Actually, the words were: "Vous allez maintenant!"



Well, now I'm sick. We're both trying to get over jet-lag after arriving home this past weekend and it doesn't seem like we're doing a very good job of it. Weird things keep happening like; my ears keep crackling, I often feel like I'm walking on water, I have the urge to say "Bon Jour" to the neighbors while laughing with a French accent and I'm pooping in the middle of the night (not in the bed, in case you were wondering. But who knows? Maybe we'll get lucky and that'll be next.).

Since we left on our trip, I've been blowing stuff out of my big schnoz (as in nose, not wiener...although, we already know that's huge as well) that appears to be Superglue. It's great, because high screeching sounds have been accompanying it in my ears. I'm also coughing up the same material as though I smoked 500 packs of cigarettes in the last week. Although, as much as the French smoke (even while eating - lit cig in one hand, fork in the other), I probably have inhaled the equivalent of 60,000 cigarettes. Okay, maybe not "60,000", maybe...30,000.

Over all, the trip was fantastic, in spite of the glue, the flu and the oddly timed poo.

I will be recounting the stories for you in all their glory, but until then, I thought I'd leave you with some teasers.

*** From the airline captain one hour into the trip on the way to Philadelphia, outside of Los Angeles: "Umm...folks, we have to divert to Albuquerque, please stay seated with your seatbelts fastened. I need the flight attendants to cancel food service and to take their seats immediately. We've had to extinguish one of our engines (one of two). Don't worry folks, we're trained for stuff like this. Oh...and when we land, please just ignore the fire trucks...and the people in the HazMat suits. They're just a precaution. Thanks."

*** From the shaking, breaking voice of one of the flight attendants once we made an extremely scary landing; "Wel...come to Al...bu...quer...que..."

*** From me to Will after we landed in Albuquerque and we were breathing a sigh of relief; "That poor woman I helped earlier barfed on herself."

*** From a ticket agent in the now overwhelmed airport of Albuquerque; "Please stand in this line."

*** From the same ticket agent 1 hour later; "Umm...we're suspending this line, so please stand in this other line."

*** From the same ticket agent 45 minutes later; "Folks, we're no longer going to be taking care of these lines up here, you'll all have to relocate to the ticket agents located at the front of the airport. Thanks for your patience." (Patience??? It's going to take 2 years for that poor thing to grow her hair back...and her eyebrows. And those scratch marks looked pretty deep.)

*** From the spawn of Satan named "Denese" at the U.S. Airways International Ticket counter at Fuckadelphia Airport, talking to me while simultaneously on her personal cell phone; "There are no seats for your return trip. And I want to go home. Fuck." (You know what "Denese"? I've got your "home" right in my pants. After I stop blowing cement out of my nose and taking craps in the middle of the night, your nasty ghetto ass is MINE!! YOU'RE GOIN' DOWN, BITCH!!!)

*** From Will while we were surrounded by a lot of rather loud-slurping people who were choosing to have noodles and soup for Breakfast at our hotel; "Who the hell ever said that it was a good idea to eat soup with two sticks?"

*** From Will under the Eiffel Tower, where there was a LARGE population of Eastern European tourists; "If I see ONE MORE BIG ASS MOLE on someone's face with a huge tuft of hair growing out of it, I don't know what I'm going to do...Don't they have razors where they come from?"

*** From security at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris to me about the bag hanging on my shoulder; "So, tell me about your bag."

And I responded; "What would you like to know?"

Security; "Your bag...tell me about it."

Me; "Well, it's a Kenneth Cole, it's black leather and goes nicely with jeans or dresswear."

(Blank look from security guard.)

*** The same security guard; "Tell me about what someone gave you."

Me; "What?"

Security; "Tell me about what someone gave you...since you've been here...maybe in the bathroom?"

Me; "You mean, like the clap?"

(Blank look from irritated security guard continues.)

*** From a security guard at Marie Antoinette's Crib at Versailles to me; "You can't sleep there."

*** From Will to me as we were going through a lot of turbulence on our approach into Philadelphia from Paris, referring to the people sitting next to me; "Are they both barfing??"

And my reply; "Actually, that would be 3 of them barfing. The whole family is barfing. It must be genetic."

By the way, how appropriate that today, U.S. Airways was listed as one of the worst airlines.