What can YOU say in six sentences?
On the third day of Christmas, there’s rumor I should be acquiring three French hens. Egg-laying birds or yappy, pecking, tres chic women: I want neither.
However, we can talk French: I’m a big fan of French fries, French toast, French kisses (when I was 14), and the French Open in tennis which I experienced up close and personal enough for Federer’s sweat to be wiped off my brow. Yes, fate did place me in France one summer and although Sex and the City set the ambiance right for the Eiffel Tower at night (complete with a brioche de chocolat), little else appealed to me.
Apparently, dehydration was supposed to be my bestest friend as water was served in Barbie-sized shot glasses, public restrooms were rare and generally not free, and the toilet paper was Pepto-Bismol pink! I understand pink for the NFL in October, being tickled, and Aerosmith songs, but not for my highfalutin, anti-fragrance/artificial-flavor-hating ass (yeah, I said it)!