September 6, 2006

The Student Travel Association's Guide to France, Part Deux



French Culture and Customs

Though they may appear to be little more than slimmer, better-dressed Americans, the French have their own rich history and culture. Between surrenders, they have cultivated a unique cuisine, pioneered new political systems, and wholly embraced public drunkenness/urination. France is stuffed to the brim with fresh, cosmopolitan experiences for the student traveler. For example, did you know that France is home to more than four hundred McDonald's restaurants? France also boasts monuments like the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and, legend has it, a place where naked ladies dance! Take the time to learn a little about France and its people, and before you know it you’ll be sipping escargot at a street café with the Sultan!

Some Useful French Phrases

The French, like the rest of the civilized world, have been forced to learn impeccable English in order to better serve their superiors. But try making them feel special by memorizing and tossing off a few of these useful French phrases. (Translations courtesy of Alta Vista’s Babel Fish translation tool!)

-Non, merci. Six crepes est ma limite.
-No, thank you. Six crepes is my limit.

-Vous ne fumez pas. Êtes-vous se sentant bien?
-You’re not smoking. Are you feeling all right?

-Je suis un Américain. Quels escomptes pouvez-vous m'offrir?
-I am an American. What discounts can you offer me?

-Celui qu'on est la plupart d'alcoolique, svp.
-Whichever one is the most alcoholic, please.

-Vraiment. Je suis très bien, merci. Crepes étaient délicieux.
-Really. I’m fine, thanks. The crepes were delicious.

-Ce lit a-t-il été deloused récemment?
-Has this bed been deloused recently?

-Est-ce que - cela vous dérangerait de s'asseoir là-bas ? Le parfum mélangé de votre odeur de corps et de Cologne qui ne le masque pas commence à brouiller ma vision.
-Would you mind sitting over there? The mixed scent of your body odor and the cologne that fails to mask it is beginning to blur my vision.

-Est qu'une baguette dans votre poche, ou vous ont contracté "la maladie de gonflement?"
-Is that a baguette in your pocket, or have you contracted “the swelling disease?”

-Que le train va à Amsterdam?
-Which train goes to Amsterdam?

-Regardez, quand je veux un autre sacré crepe, je l'ordre foutu un de volonté!
-Look, when I want another goddamned crepe, I’ll fucking order one!




Important Events in French History

French History is a rich tapestry, woven of nobility, legend, revolution, empire, and the films of Gerard Depardieu. Feel free to scan through this loose timeline, which barely touches on major events while compressing the span of thousands of years into a few brief paragraphs. Congratulations! You are more knowledgeable in French history than ninety-four percent of adult Americans!

Prehistory: Cro-Magnon man creates this sculpture in Dordogne, France. It is the only one of its kind in the world, believed to have been either a complicated time-telling device or a private area for young French Cro-Magnons to experiment with homosexuality. Some historians posit that it was, in fact, both of these. In any case, it is tragically demolished by flood in 3500 B.C., shortly after this photograph is taken.



768: Charlemagne is crowned “best king ever” after publicly wrestling a wildcat which he then mounts, eats, and subsequently gives birth to. The mystery of this elaborate and confusing feat has long been debated by historical scholars, although Charlemagne’s testicles, unearthed by archaeologists in 1964 and each the size of a mature hedgehog, seem to support the legend.



1337: A French farm girl named Joan of Arc sees visions in which God tells her to lead the French against the English, ending the Hundred Years’ War. After talking the French King into making her a General, it is found that she has no military experience and is likely suffering from acute Schizophrenia. She is immediately and rightly burned at the stake. This marks the last time in history that anyone who claims to talk to God is ever granted military authority.

November, 1337 to February, 1338: All French cathedrals built. The massive construction frenzy, which begins as a government plan designed to create jobs, ends when builders finally ran out of stone, colored glass shards, and paintings of bored-looking saints. The abrupt end to cathedral building results in the famous “Half-Built” cathedral of Avignon, whose flying buttresses are fashioned out of the bones of those who died during its construction, and whose ceiling went unpainted until 1981, when Spanish artist Salvador Dali was hired to provide a mural he entitled “Jesus With Ants.

1519: Leonardo Da Vinci dies in the arms of French King Francois I after failing to perfect his “Whirligig Lifemotron,” a wood-and-paper device designed to grant the user immortality. The contraption, which does nothing more than accomplish the world’s first manned flight, goes down in history as one of Da Vinci’s many great failures, alongside his “Car That Drives *You*” and a picture of a man who clearly has too many limbs.



1682: Louis XIV moves the royal court from Paris to Versailles, in an effort to keep his notorious three-day, foie gras-fueled, king-only sex orgies out of the public eye. Unfortunately, due to a freak coincidence, the Hall of Mirrors is in the perfect configuration to project the image of Louis jacking off onto the face of the King of Prussia onto a thirty-foot high topiary hedge in the royal gardens adjacent to the palace. A group of scandal-hungry peasants gather with easels and quickly paint the images that appear, distributing these paintings in Paris and becoming the first Paparazzi. They are all later beheaded. The paintings however, which show Louis in various sexual positions with other nobles, become the most valuable set of works on Earth, and are later owned by American John D. Rockefeller until they are destroyed during a three-day, filet mignon-fueled, oil baron-only sex orgy.



1789: Thirteen years after the American Revolution, the French stage an elaborate recreation as a flattering gesture. Thousands die. We later build the Statue of Liberty as our way of saying “thanks, that was cute.”

1804-1815: Napoleon rules France, and expands the nation’s dominion into a RISK-worthy empire. Unfortunately, the seven bonus men he gains from ruling Asia are not enough to counterbalance the losses he incurs while trying to hold it, and English troops, who took Australia on the first turn, are able to overpower him at the battle of Waterloo. Napoleon angrily knocks the board aside, scattering pieces everywhere.

1871: The Third Republic is born, marking the end of the Monarchy in France. Without any viable form of government to succeed it, French people revert to a prehistoric tribal barter system for a three-month period, later dubbed “one crazy summer.” Finally, Americans lend the French Democracy and Freedom out of pity, because we’ve got so much to spare anyway. We only ask that they become non-threatening caricatures of themselves who wear mime costumes and laugh like a car engine trying to turn over. They agree.



1890: Impressionism becomes the premiere art movement of France, prompting eight-year olds everywhere to claim “I could have painted that.” The artists themselves laugh all the way to the bank, becoming obscenely wealthy and serving as the model for the expression “gluttonous artist.” People officially stop caring whether art successfully depicts anything, and worry only about whether it evokes a feeling. Bazille’s performance piece, “I punch you in the crotch,” is named greatest work of the decade.

December 27th, 1948: Gerard Depardieu is born, marking the single most important event in French history. Scientists later determine that for four seconds following his emergence from his mother’s womb, time literally stands still. The era of Depardieu is begun.



Next: Jesus Christ, More Shit About France?!

August 28, 2006

The Student Travel Association’s Guide to France, Part Un



So, you’ve decided to visit France, the crown jewel of North Central Western Europe! Congratulations! You are joining in a proud tradition of travel abroad by lazy, affluent, college-aged Americans. Hopefully, this journey will expand your horizons, show you new possibilities, and teach you to effectively mask your disdain for the customs of other peoples. This helpful pamphlet will provide all the information you need to make your trip to the land of second-hand smoke and unpasteurized cheese all the more bearable!

Some Items to Pack

Before setting off on your trip, it’s important to pack the proper items. Here are some must-haves that you will find useful while visiting France.

A Money Pouch

Let’s be honest with ourselves: whether from a lack of hygiene or some natural oil only they exude, the French have sticky fingers. They are notoriously adept at separating a tourist and his money, be it through slight of hand, clever scam, or a rusty knife to the gut. A money belt, worn around the waist, solves this problem nicely, providing a more difficult target for would-be pickpockets as well as a way to cushion the force of a blade jammed into your soft, quivering belly. Keeping paper money in the pouch also provides an acceptable staunch for the blood that will invariably gush from said knife-wound, giving you the precious time you need to crawl to one of France’s eight serviceable hospitals.

A Camera

It’s happened time and time again: after being stabbed in the gut by a street person, a student will, in the course of dragging themselves down the filthy sidewalk with their forearms, chance upon one of France’s many impressive monuments or tourist spots, only to find themselves without a camera. A camera is an absolute must-have for any trip overseas. Your own capacity to form memories will likely be failing due to blood loss, while mechanical ones will survive for years to come. If you can afford one, a digital camera is a nice luxury, allowing you to review your photos on the spot. If that’s out of your price range, try simply staring at people and things that you want to remember for long periods without blinking. If it helps, put your hands to your head and chant “Remember!” to yourself through grit teeth.

A French-English Dictionary

While you would expect most foreigners to applaud an American’s sincere attempts at communication, many are actually offended when faced with a tourist slowly and emphatically asking “WHERE...IS...THE…CRAPPER?” The French will appreciate nothing more than your effort to converse with them on their own level. Rather than screeching or hurling feces however, try translating what you want to say from a handy pocket dictionary. Your stammering, page-turning, and prolonged pauses will only prove to them how hard you are really trying. Luckily, the French language is especially forgiving to tourists, in that a word’s meaning is affected by neither pronunciation nor proper conjugation.

Non-Carbonated Water

As many tourists find out the hard way, it is a literal impossibility to acquire non-carbonated water in France. The reason is a poorly-understood subterranean phenomenon that causes all ground water in the area to become infused with Carbon Dioxide gas. To avoid subsisting entirely on what scientists have dubbed “Nature’s shitty soda,” we recommend you check one or two bags filled with water bottles at the airport. If possible, fill a carry-on bag with water for the flight as well. And remember: if airport security tries to take away your precious, life-giving water, run like hell and never stop screaming.

That Rapier American Wit

The French love Jerry Lewis, who was a well-known American comedian. As you might assume, they will also appreciate your “in-your-face” brand of American street humor. Before leaving, be sure to brush up on your best barbs and one liners regarding American stereotypes concerning the French. By focusing your comedy on them and their habits, you will let those you encounter know that you are deeply knowledgeable about their country and people. Be sure to mention:

--Their eating of frogs
--Their similarity to frogs
--Their ridiculous striped shirts and berets
--Their love of Jerry Lewis
--Their impotence in war
--Their pervasive stink
--Their inexplicable hostility towards Americans

Next: A Tasteful and Useful Guide to French Culture, Customs, and Cuisine!

August 7, 2006

Gordon Ramsay Has a Quiet Family Dinner at Home



Excuse me. ExCUSE ME! This roast, it’s shit, yeah? Look at this. You, with the breasts and the overpriced wedding band, come over here and jam this in your fucking gob.

Chew it. Chew! Taste that? Do you? What is it? It’s NOTHING, yeah? This is a bland, soggy, greasy roast! It’s bland, you donkey! BLAND! Where are the spices? Where’s the bloody SAVOR?! I feel like I’m eating fucking shoe leather roasted in fucking bat guano!



Look at this! See how it’s pink there, in the middle? It’s fucking RAW! You could make someone sick, Susan! It’s called a fucking ROAST, you need to fucking ROAST it, yeah?! Do you want to make me sick?

I think…yeah, yeah, I think I’m going to vomit. I’m going to vomit a veal parmesan with truffle garnishes and a saffron-prawn reduction sauce all over the tablecloth, yeah? The blue fucking tablecloth with the fucking DAISIES that I TOLD you only goes with chicken? Yeah? Look, fuck off back to the kitchen and redo everything.



Oh no. No. No no no, come ON! You’re not going to stand here and talk back, are you? Are you, you fat mouth piece of shit?! You’re WASTING TIME! Your son and your husband are fucking HUNGRY, and you’re standing here debating! It’s fucking BLAND, Susan!

I wouldn’t serve this to fucking HITLER! ADOLF HITLER doesn’t deserve this kind of shabby, vomitous, mucousy roast! Are you telling me I’m worse than Hitler, Susan? ARE YOU?



If you think I’m going to let this roast be served, you’re out of your fucking mind! I LOVE our son, Susan. I’m not going to let him die gagging on bits of cartilage and soggy carrots after his stomach rejects this car wreck of a dinner! So stop taking the piss and go FIX IT! You’ve only got four and a half minutes! GO GO GO!



So, James, how was school today? Oh, yeah? Yeah, that’s a laugh. You know, I had him when I was your age. It’s funny he’s still teaching, yeah. Does he still do that lecture about—hold on, here comes mum with dinner.

Okay, put it here, Susan. Alright, color is better. Sloppy presentation. First thing you look at is presentation, Susan. This is boring, it’s flat. Looks like you just whipped it up at home, yeah? Okay, let’s see here. Some flavor. There’s an odd taste, like…salt. A little too much salt and…despair, I think. Yeah, definitely utter despair.



Susan, don’t tell me you’ve been crying in the fucking food AGAIN?!



SUSAN!



FUCK ME!



TAKE…IT BACK…AND DO IT…AGAIN!

No, nevermind! Fuck it! No, service is over! Give me the roast! There, see? Now I've peed on it. No one's eating the damned thing!



I hope you're happy, Susan. You have failed in every way imaginable.

No, James, I don’t care, you’re not eating it! Look, if you’re hungry, blame your mother, yeah? Maybe if she could cook worth a goddamned COCK, you would have had a full meal this bloody MONTH!

Sigh.

Susan, you have failed to complete the service. I will be going to the carnival ALONE, and when I come back, I want to see this whole place STOCKED, FUMIGATED, and bloody SPOTLESS, yeah? James can help.



And I’ll tell you something, Susan: if sex tonight is this amateurish, don’t be surprised if you’re the next one eliminated from this family. I’ve done it to Gordon, Jr., I can sure as hell do it to you.

August 4, 2006

Things Not to Do and Then Tell Me It's Something Else

Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining

Don’t jizz in my smoothie and call it a protein boost

Don’t cite Plessy v. Ferguson and tell me it’s Roe v. Wade

Don’t fart on my head and tell me it’s raining

Don’t put on a helmet and tell me you’re a racecar driver competing in the Gran Prix

Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow

Don’t rape me and tell me it’s “surprise sex”

Don’t canonize predominantly male-authored works of literature and tell me that it’s an entirely merit-based system

Don’t snort cocaine off my podium and tell me it’s Pixie Stix

Don’t commit genocide on an indigenous peoples and tell me
you’re discovering America

Don’t give me a summer squash and tell me it’s a zucchini

Don’t give me I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and tell me it’s butter, because I really have a hard time telling the difference. That stuff is amazing!

Don't read me Cattalus and tell me it's Ovid

Don't molest my kids and tell me you're a "groining tutor"

Don’t drive on the wrong side of the street and tell me it’s England

Don’t shit on my head and call it an Easter bonnet

Don’t put hot sauce on my hamburger and tell me it’s a fiesta salad

Don’t spit in my shirt pocket and tell me I’m lactating

Don’t look under my robes and tell me you’re spelunking

Don’t play post-Roger Waters Floyd and tell me it’s pre-Roger Waters Floyd

Don’t serve me expired mayonnaise and tell me it’s applebutter

Don’t make a Hollywood sequel of your underground Indie classic and tell me you’re not a sellout

Don’t put your dick in my hand and tell me it’s a crude balloon animal

Don’t squeeze lemons in my eye and tell me they’re contacts

Don’t put a Dracula in my bed and tell me it’s a puppy

Don’t put snakes on a plane and call it Pacific Flight 121

Don’t put a hat on a dog and tell me it’s comedy

Don’t put an old man alone on a park bench and tell me it’s art

Don’t punch me in the face and tell me you thought my head was a glove

Don’t bring me to orgasm and sing “*Here Comes the Judge*”

Don’t turn your shirt inside-out and tell me it’s a new shirt

Don't put Ben Stiller in a movie and tell me he's not playing the same role as every movie he's ever been in

Don't play me rap and call it "urban beat poetry"

Don't give me a filing hasp and tell me it's a tampon

Don’t come in here with a case against Lorenzo’s Qwik-Stop Likker Shoppe and tell me he refused to pay his rent after you borrowed his sister’s bike and put it in hock to pay for a phone bill your ex-girlfriend ran up while she lived with you and tell me you deserve my respect
 
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