the departure: kate’s headed home from paris
it’s been a fiesty four days filled with activity perpetuating the stereotype of american’s behavior in paris and i am sad to say that it came to an end so quickly. i was ever so fortunate, however, to have been left a goodbye present from kate. since she had an early flight back to dublin (apparently their economy is doing well… after all those potato famines, who knew? they’re still leather handed lushy punters, though) i woke to find a little gift in my bed.
the cozy little thinig, she left it right where she had been sleeping!
after experience, i just figurd it was leftovers from a routine post-blow nocturnal nose bleed. but after calling kate to laugh about it, she informed me that her vagina had actually decided to spit on my bed. menstruation or the after effects of pulling eager parisian barflys into the bathroom? we don’t know… but i’m certainly not washing my sheets. if i can keep a little bit of kate around, even if it is only bits and pieces of god telling you it’s recycling time, thats just fine by me.
love,
cannon
kate woke up in paris this morning at 7am wanting god to save her from the proverbial hell her body felt like it was living in. cannon was passed out with his constant companion aka computer splayed out in his lap. we worked all night on getting fucked up on wine, pills, and nutella with le petit butter cookies figuring things out that sober people could do in 5 minutes. kate searched the endless shops of ghetto paris looking for ice cream. none was found. who the fuck doesn’t have ice cream in a convenience store? fucking parisians.
between endless banter, naps(of which we take many), and kate being depressed over the loss of her camera(see pictures from last night below to explain such loss) some work was actually accomplished. we blog your mom is real. and just like your mom’s legs- open for business.but like all good vacations, they must come to an end. the kate and cannon parisian extravaganza was coming to a close. they hugged, but not too closely. neither is sure at which point they last took a shower. it is safe to say kate went to paris and saw nothing but bars, oh yeah, and the eiffel tower. cannon kindly showed kate notre dame as she was crawling along the street like a homeless junkie looking for her cardboard box. thanks, cannon. kate went to catch her flight this morning. she sat on the tar mac for two hours without moving before the dumb ass stewardesses finally decided to feed the people. however, they ran out of food by the time they got to kate’s row- mother fucking ROW 8! i guess they were expecting a plane full of eating disorder rehab runaways to occupy the flight from paris to dublin. at this point kate no longer wanted to blog your mom. she wanted to eat your mom. cannon, without a doubt, remains in bed recovering from 4 days of nonstop excesses. kate will be nursing her empty stomach and her angry uterus. no matter how angry though, it is still a constant reminder that she is not pregnant.
love,
kate
