food and bones and catacombs
I made hot pasta. It was so spicy that Whitney couldn't eat it. She coughed and almost cried when she took a bite. I like spicy food. Food is nice. People in Paris don't eat spicy food, at least not the ones I've met. I think I would like to meet people in Paris that eat spicy food and wear spikes. That would be a good combination.
We went to the catacombs today. I got scared because it was raining and I thought it would flood while we were underground and my shoes would get wet and we would drowned.But Whitney is brave and we went all the way through to where the bones of all of the dead people that ever died are. They are all there because hell is beneath Paris. The bones are stacked very neatly because the people that work there hate messy things. The web site for hell says you can use flash to take pictures but you can't use a tripod. The opposite is true. You can't or aren't suppose to use flash. I used flash sometimes. I think that is why the bones are haunting me. There are bone ghosts following us and making clickity clack noises in the dark. Stupid ghosts are gonna be sorry when I whip out my new demon swifter and hose those bitches down.
Whitney will post the pictures from the catacombs because I don't know how to do this. I spend all of my time trying to make all of the pens on my desk point towards Ithaca. Then I find out that there are several Ithacas and this makes my work all the more difficult.
We are going out to a bar tomorrow night. I am excited to drink beer and whiskey and vodka and herr 0h win juice and fight shots and pass out pills cause I like money and no one's gonna tell me I can't have another. The name of the place is Piano Vache so I expect heifers. The music is suppose to be goth-themed so I'm wearing my Cpt. Kirk girdle and dying my eyeballs black.
We went to Marrakech last week. We didn't tip the snake charmers enough and I know they put a curse on us because every time I text someone a hole in the sky opens up and a giant serpent with 500 eyes of glowing cinnabar and a tongue of forked, waxy spam strikes through with its ferocious serrated ginsu fangs and bites whoever I am sending the text to. Next time I will give them 20 Dirhams.
If you are in Paris and want to meet us at Piano Vache for drinks give us a call. I'll text you when we are headed over there.
Current Mood: 
scaredCurrent Music: Lies - Black Keys 
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