petite anglaise

January 21, 2008


Filed under: city of light — petiteanglaiseparis @ 4:00 pm

When I whisked The Boy away to London for his birthday last autumn, I remember wandering around Soho amazed at how all the pubs were so full that many of the drinkers had to resort to nursing their pints outside on the pavement. The penny only dropped when we pushed our way through the crowds to venture inside to order drinks of our own. As soon as we were through the door we realised that outward appearances had been deceptive. Indoors, all was silent as the tomb. The smoking ban had literally turned the pubs inside out, and the odour of cigarettes had been replaced with the (arguably more unpleasant) tang of stale beer and sweat.

France followed suit on January 1st and since The Boy is a hardened smoker, never to be found without a packet of Lucky Strike about his person, I shivered at the prospect of sitting outside our favourite bars in the bleak mid-winter. It was either that, I reasoned, or sit indoors, but regularly find myself alone, tapping my fingers impatiently on the table, while the smokers (almost everyone but me) took themselves off outside for a nicotine fix.

So far, I’m pleased to say, we seem to have managed to find a happy medium: bars and restaurants with heated terrasses and clear plastic awnings which effectively mean we are seated almost indoors. Granted, the patio heaters usually leave me pink-cheeked and frosty-toed, so I should probably start wearing an extra pair of socks if I want to be spared chilblains this year (yes, I know, they went out with the ark, no one gets chilblains any more – try telling that to my feet). I’m also well aware that heating the outdoors is an exercise which is unlikely to have a positive impact on the environment.

Hearing The Boy making arrangements to meet his mum for a drink this weekend – suggesting first Aux Folies, then saying “Eh merde, ils ont pas de terrasse chauffée….. Va falloir que je la rappelle pour donner rendez-vous au Zèbre…” it occurred to me that if I had an ounce of spare time, I should probably write a handy little guide called “Paris, la Clope au Bec” and pitch it to Parigramme, where it would nestle comfortably among the other titles in their collection.

I currently own “Bien naître à Paris“, “SOS Jeune maman parisienne” (I think it was the word “young” which clinched that deal) and “Les Mercredis des petits parisiens” (which despite all my resolutions, I have yet to open). Today, having browsed the full list of publications, I’d be curious to read “Comment devenir une vraie parisienne“.

I suspect that my own favoured solution – find myself a real, bona-fide Parisian, born only a couple of kilometres from where he now lives, and regularly exchange bodily fluids in the hope that some of his Parisien-ness will rub off on me – may be a little, um, unconventional…


  1. Love your blog. I wish i wrote as smooth and seemingly effortless as you.

    I also am cursed with getting chilblains too, not only on my feet but anywhere else exposed to the cold.

    Comment by Stephanie — January 21, 2008 @ 5:38 pm

  2. Bugger convention. Enjoy yourself.

    Comment by Damian — January 21, 2008 @ 5:50 pm

  3. Where I live, Chile, there was a similar law that passed through a year ago or so, depending on the size of the building you had two choices, you either declared your business “Smoke Free” or “Smoke Friendly”, however if the place was big enough the owner could build a hermetically-sealed smoke-friendly zone. The restriction was that only people older than 18 could go inside the smoke zones. It took people like 3 to 4 months to get used to it.

    But it wasn’t the end of it. We could no longer smoke in the halls of our Universities (which was terrible, because after an exam we could no longer stay close to the door an gossip, we would have to find a patio or a terrace to smoke, which, depending on the faculty, could actually mean stand in the pavement under a tree), cigarettes were not to be sold near schools, so there would be a radius of 109,36 yards where shops, newsstands and everything else would not be allowed to sell the nicotine fix Chileans were craving. Now, THAT was a disaster, because people can’t seem to be bothered to walk more then 110 yards to ruin their lungs, some business had to close and others started the black market of cigarettes, which is another story altogether.

    Thankfully my favourite places stayed smoke friendly.

    PS: Sorry for the long-ish comment, I just felt like sharing. ;)

    Comment by Narcoleptic_ll — January 21, 2008 @ 5:59 pm

  4. Wait till you start ‘smirting’ – smoking and flirting- all the rage in Ireland since we embraced the smoking ban two years ago. It’s a brand new way to meet people you perhaps otherwise would not speak to.

    Comment by susie — January 21, 2008 @ 6:09 pm

  5. I was shocked to see people still smoking inside business in Monaco. I suppose the principality hasn’t caught on yet.

    You quite rightly point out the substituting stink. Smoke replaced with …. YUCK!

    Comment by clarissa — January 21, 2008 @ 7:25 pm

  6. They put the smokers outside, but say nothing about the little old lady (a Tatie Danielle, if ever there was one) who insists on bringing her two little doggies (a poodle and a pug, obviously) into my favourite local lunch spot.

    She orders two meals – one for her, one for them – and gives old-french-lady ‘you got a problem?’ looks to anyone who is surprised by this behaviour.

    Obviously the only people surprised are foreigners because your average French person thinks feeding your dog in a restaurant is perfectly acceptable behaviour.

    Sometimes I think they just do this stuff for attention…..

    Comment by travelling but not in love — January 21, 2008 @ 7:45 pm

  7. What’s so special about Wednesdays??

    Comment by Silver Lining — January 21, 2008 @ 7:57 pm

  8. I don’t know if it is all of Canada, or just the province I live in, but there will soon be no smoking allowed in any public places…that includes patios and bars.
    I don’t smoke, and I have small children, so I don’t mind the new laws at all. But my biggest complaint with smokers is with the ones that treat the world like their ashtray…it is disgusting to walk out of a building through a mess of cigarette butts!

    Comment by canuck — January 21, 2008 @ 8:15 pm

  9. Isn’t it wonderful that so much of the planet’s natural and irreplaceable resources are being used to heat fresh air to enable the addicts to continue with their ‘fix’ outside?

    I suppose I am just a little bitter that our governments condone this waste.

    Comment by Brennig — January 21, 2008 @ 8:24 pm

  10. Oh glorious smoking ban! When the ban came in in Ireland two years ago, as Susie said, I used it as an opportunity to quit completely – I was more or less off cigarettes but that dratted “social smoke” over a pint… that temptation having been removed, I have been happily off cigarettes ever since and as a result cannot *bear* the stink on my clothes and hair when I visit (or live in) less enlightened countries, so I am thrilled about the ban in Paris. It’s difficult to enjoy, say, sushi when you have watched three chic women smoking at the counter where it is being prepared and must sit beside another table of smokers while eating it… (that said, I loved smoking and miss it terribly sometimes).

    Comment by Passementerie — January 21, 2008 @ 8:26 pm

  11. The weird odour inside the pubs soon goes. Thankfully few of my friends or work colleagues smoke so I don’t have to stand or sit outside in the freezing cold.

    I would, of course, it’s just that Glasgow isn’t really the place to ask “excuse me barkeep, wherefore art thou heated terrace?”

    Comment by Gordon — January 21, 2008 @ 8:32 pm

  12. I know you’re fussy, so I’ll tell you straight out …..ummm ……. arrr ……..ahhhhh ….. there’s only one ‘l’ in chilblains.

    Comment by Daddy Papersurfer — January 21, 2008 @ 8:47 pm

  13. Yes, it’s sad but true… I, too, have learned that the body-fluid exchange with a real Parisian does NOT, apparently, automatically translate into instant Parisienne-ness. However, I AM learning some very interesting French words and expressions probably not used in polite conversation…

    Sounds like some interesting book titles… will have to check it out. Thanks!

    Comment by The Bold Soul — January 21, 2008 @ 9:24 pm

  14. Yes! Chilblains HURT! People who don’t get them just don’t understand. Maybe the French don’t either- I’m not sure “engelure” quite does them justice, frozen toes don’t feel like they’re burning!

    Comment by encoreunepetiteanglaise — January 21, 2008 @ 9:30 pm

  15. I find it hard to believe that the French were in favour of banning smoking. I’d be worried if I were a beret, a stripy jumper or a string of onions, I can tell yer.

    Smoking. Pff… it’s a disgusting habit.

    Comment by chris goodhead — January 21, 2008 @ 9:34 pm

  16. Wednesdays are school free so some people have their kids at home all day. I don’t: there are activities organised in my daughter’s school for a modest daily rate of €10 or so, and I need to work a five day week..

    Comment by petite — January 21, 2008 @ 10:27 pm

  17. I have to whole-heartedly back the no-smoking ban in Paris. While in England the pubs do seem to smell of rather, erm, human odours, somehow French cafés have managed to emit the pleasant aromas of coffee or fresh beery yeast smells.
    As a non-smoker I’m very happy to see (and smell) that finally the smokers’ rule has been overthrown by the non-smokers.
    Thanks for a very lovely post Petite, your writing is so beautifully put together, can’t wait to read the book.

    Comment by Paris Lights — January 21, 2008 @ 10:47 pm

  18. Sorry, I meant the smoking ban, not the no-smoking ban!

    Comment by Paris Lights — January 21, 2008 @ 10:48 pm

  19. are you seeking tadpole 2?

    Comment by kara — January 21, 2008 @ 11:02 pm

  20. My local stinks not only of sweat but also very badly of urine — from the Gents loo next to the bar. The smokers sit outside, in large numbers… so the pub stinks wherever you sit. Yuck.
    My chilblains disappeared when I started wearing long johns … now for 9 months of each year!

    Comment by justin — January 22, 2008 @ 12:47 am

  21. Oh, the French always have smelt bad. I’m just psyched that I don’t end up with a lung infection everytime I visit my guy now. Pfft.

    Comment by be — January 22, 2008 @ 5:17 am

  22. merci pour the book update! dont get too cold, you just gave me goosebumps! it does get cold in paris! brr!

    Comment by marie — January 22, 2008 @ 10:34 am

  23. Et bien je vous ferai concurrence avec mon : Comment devenir parisien sans une tune.

    Comment by Parapluie — January 22, 2008 @ 10:45 am

  24. I dutifully read Les mercredis des petits parisiens and it depressed the hell out of me, so let me save you some time. I think you need a devoted nounou and one of those lovely well-behaved children that walk calmly around the Park Monceau in tweed Bondpoint outfits practising their times tables( rather than my semi-feral brood) to be worthy of it.. Enough ways to feel like an unfit mother already without the added guilt of not taking your children to origami workshops at the Musée Guimet!
    I’m from York like you Petite. A big virtual Bettys teacake to you…

    Comment by Jaywalker — January 22, 2008 @ 12:52 pm

  25. What is the price of your book in euros?
    I shall be in France soon and shall look for it.


    Comment by Dorothy — January 22, 2008 @ 1:06 pm

  26. the good thing about the ban is more room in the bars, its quicker to get served and you can find a good space. The down side is the good weather days (there are some in the UK) as the smokers have already bagged all outdoor space or you sit amongst all the smoke, thereby counteracting what the ban was supposed to do. However, I do like Frankie Boyle’s comment that with the outdoor tables “Glasgow looks like Paris after a nuclear holocaust!”

    Comment by dave m — January 22, 2008 @ 1:16 pm

  27. To Silver Lining @7: Wednesdays are days without any schools for French pupils (it’s still the 1950s there sometimes).

    As for the smoking ban, it’s been very welcome in the UK. We can breathe, finally. And as far as I know, sweat odours don’t give cancer. My local pub as a logfire, so it’s still nice, warm and lovely and smokers go outside and shelter under an umbrella if needed. It keeps them warm and cosy and they get to speak to each other. At least now I don’t stink like cigarette when I come home and I can bring my 5 year-old with me to the pub. A beer for daddy and a lemonade for him (although he’d rather a diabolo fraise), and everybody’s happy.

    Comment by Boris — January 22, 2008 @ 1:31 pm

  28. The mum pictured on one of the books you linked to has a little baby as well as an older Tadpole…
    Maybe the regular exchange of bodily fluids will have more results than your acquiring “Parisianisme”…

    Comment by happyforyou — January 22, 2008 @ 1:54 pm

  29. The ban may inconvenience the smokers, but it does mean the rest of the populace, including your small daughter, finally get their turn at NOT be inconvenienced and possibly made ill by secondhand smoke in restaurants.

    Comment by Passante — January 22, 2008 @ 2:20 pm

  30. ‘Comment devenir une vraie parisienne’. After 35 years of living here and much exchanging of body fluids with locals (and others from further afield), Carla Bruni is still not quite there.

    Comment by parkin pig — January 22, 2008 @ 2:40 pm

  31. If you still have some Sudocreme lurking around your flat from when Tadpole was in nappies, use it on your chilblains. It works very well. I had them a few years ago and MAN they are itchy!

    Comment by Peggy — January 22, 2008 @ 3:48 pm

  32. One unexpected advantage of the smoking ban is that you can see what kind of people go to the bars you pass on the street at just a glance, without having to go in to actually check places out…
    Too young/ Too old/ Too posh/ Too scruffy, etc…

    Comment by happyforyou — January 22, 2008 @ 3:54 pm

  33. Of course, that’s why there are so many tables outside in Charleville this winter. They don’t seem to have any heaters though.
    I must say it’s a treat to be able to have lunch without choking on other people’s smoke though.

    Comment by sablonneuse — January 22, 2008 @ 4:42 pm

  34. Rereading your entry – am I the only one that is struck by the maternal undertones? I mean, “Bien naître à Paris”? How big of a hint is that?
    Of course, I could be entirely off track…

    Comment by happyforyou — January 22, 2008 @ 5:51 pm

  35. Is that the Zebre in Montmartre? I know that cafe, it’s near where I live. It’s lovely.

    As for the smoking ban, I’m loving it. Poisonous cigarette fumes selfishly blasted into other people’s faces was one thing that always really annoyed me about French cafes and bars. I was sick of having to go home with red eyes and reeking of smoke after a night out. Vive l’interdiction!

    By the way, I have a confession to make. I think you may have been on my flight back to Leeds at Christmas, but I couldn’t be sure at the time. I hadn’t really seen many pictures of you and I’m so bad at remembering faces. And Tadpole was more grown up looking than I imagined. So I decided it wasn’t you and didn’t say hello. Anyway, looking at the pics of you on the site, I’m now convinced it was you.

    Did you have a good Yorkshire Christmas? Happy New Year!

    Comment by Helen — January 22, 2008 @ 7:30 pm

  36. Ah.. 27 December with JET2? If so, chances are it was indeed us.

    I’d just spent my Yorkshire Christmas in bed with the flu actually. But Tadpole had a great time…

    Comment by petite — January 22, 2008 @ 7:45 pm

  37. No, the person I thought was you was on my Jet2 flight to Leeds on 22nd December. Maybe it wasn’t you after all…Anyway, I was too shy to approach whoever it was, and especially in case I’d got the wrong person.

    Can’t wait to read your book by the way.


    Comment by Helen — January 22, 2008 @ 7:54 pm

  38. 27th was Leeds/Paris, 22nd was indeed Paris/Leeds…

    I wish you’d said something. I’m shy too, but I’ve never actually been recognised by a stranger, so you would have had fun watching me blush!

    Comment by petite — January 22, 2008 @ 8:01 pm

  39. Your method is probably the most effective! Btw – I had to google “chilblains”.

    Comment by A Seattleite in Paris — January 22, 2008 @ 10:08 pm

  40. I remember my princess and one of my friends going to see many doctors to finally discover they just had …Chilblains.
    Unconventional methods are sometimes the most efficient !

    Comment by marie-hélène — January 22, 2008 @ 10:37 pm

  41. Yep the smoking ban in France has definitely ruined the coffee/drinking experience for me. As a smoker, it is just weird, not being able to have a tipple and a cig. But I absolutely refuse to huddle outside with the outcasts in the cold, guess it is a good thing. But whenever I come out of a bar, I do this thing that smokers after a long flight do, light up as though my life depended on it.. Sad aye!!

    Comment by sugar007 — January 22, 2008 @ 11:04 pm

  42. So Petite is in love with an ashtray. Ugh!

    Comment by gonzales — January 22, 2008 @ 11:42 pm

  43. No don’t worry this is the officially recognized (by other Parisians) way to become a Parisian. Make him teach you the French shrug.

    Comment by carla — January 23, 2008 @ 12:14 am

  44. Does he smoke around Tadpole? You are a good Mum so I’m sure he has been banned from that.


    Comment by Jen — January 23, 2008 @ 12:24 am

  45. Nobody has mentioned the rather amusing story on Radio 4’s Today program the other day about a Chinese restaurant in Beijing going bust because of a smoking ban. It seems that smokers barricaded themselves in an smoked up a storm while the staff fumed outside (pun intended) and their jobs went up in smoke.

    If I had a pound for every time I wanted to say to a smoker “Would it be ok if I fired my water pistol in your face?” I could buy a carton of cigarettes or two. “Any chance I can send you my laundry bill too?”

    The EU says 19,000 non-smokers die of 2nd hand smoke in the the EU every year. I was assured a few months ago by a puffing economist who had “looked into the matter” that there is no evidence that 2nd hand smoke does any harm at all. Two days later there was a news story about a link between smoking and cot deaths. I don’t know who is right but I find I go to the pub more often now that it’s smoke free than I used to.

    Chilblains are no fun. I got them every year as a child and needed PERNIVIT pills, which I was told later was “heart medicine for old ladies”. The effect on an empty stomach could be mistaken for acute embarrassment!

    Comment by Eats Wombats — January 23, 2008 @ 2:31 am

  46. Hello from Leeds! Since people can’t smoke indoors, the flower-beds outside St James’ Hospital here are a mass of cigarette butts. You can hear the plants coughing quietly as you walk past.

    Comment by Daphne — January 23, 2008 @ 9:53 am

  47. Now that is funny… talking plants. I visited a park in Hong Kong where the rubbish bins pleaded for offerings as you passed. The rest of the family was mildly amused. I found it tiresome was impelled to leave when I realized this would continue ad nauseam as we progressed. Not my idea of a day out.

    However, your coughing plants have CANDID CAMERA potential.

    Comment by Eats Wombats — January 23, 2008 @ 11:20 am

  48. Hey Petite

    I really enjoyed your post – what first got me interested in your blog was your witty, observational commentary on life in this great city. And don’t get me wrong, I love reading about your adventures and Tadpole’s antics and the book(s) etc…but for me, this is when petite is at her best!


    Comment by Emma — January 23, 2008 @ 12:27 pm

  49. @Daphne, I never had to go to Jimmy’s, but I was around LGI a fair bit, and they banned smoking even on the grounds, in the early nineties, so I can’t see how the new law has changed anything there. That said, I worked at Quarry House for a while, and the smoking rooms were a great place for swapping useful information.

    Not looking forward to moving back to Europe/UK now, being a confirmed smoker (and I only smoke on the balcony at home, so nowhere near my kids)

    Comment by Otolokowski — January 23, 2008 @ 12:56 pm

  50. Petite,

    Lucky Strikes are killers. See if you can switch him to Native American additive free cigs. Or Gauloises at least, to be in character.


    Comment by David — January 23, 2008 @ 5:23 pm

  51. #42: “So Petite is in love with an ashtray. Ugh!”

    Years ago, the U.S. organization ASH (Action on Smoking and Health at had a series of stickers one of which said, “Kissing a smoker is like licking a dirty ashtray.”

    Comment by Passante — January 25, 2008 @ 1:07 am

  52. So if you met a lovely guy, who combined all the qualities you were looking for a in partner (plus a few you’d never even thought of) but he happened to smoke, you’d walk away?

    In Paris that would mean seriously limiting my options. I’ve no idea what the percentage of smokers in the 30-40 age bracket is, but I’d say 50%, at least…

    Comment by petite — January 25, 2008 @ 9:39 am

  53. Hey, Petite, I managed the conversion to Parisian by supposedly unconvential method *and* found a non-smoker. It’s possible. But the method is a tried-and-true one, and not unpleasant at that.

    I was in Chicago over Jan 1st and was very amused to read exactly the same articles lamenting/praising their new state smoking ban as those I had read right before the holidays in France.

    Comment by Alethea — January 25, 2008 @ 10:20 am

  54. Smoking Kills. But then again so do many other things on this crazy planet.

    The Boy smokes, he knows the risks, you compromise, he has qualities you find agreeable, therefore you accommodate the smoking. But be warned and prepare for the future, when all the smoking related ailments begin to take their toll on The Boy and maybe you.

    Lung cancer is a horrible disease that slowly steals the breath out of the people you love, and you have to sit and watch it happen. Yes we only live once and should enjoy a few vices, but if he valued your future, he would quit.

    Comment by Steve... — January 25, 2008 @ 10:57 pm

  55. #52 We’d expect you to “walk away”? Good heavens, no! Of course not! We’d just expect you to join the rest of the sheep & you & your little lamb to follow the herd into the depths of the nearest swamp or over the nearest precipitous cliff.

    #44 Jen, do you have a picture in your mind of the average Paris apartment? They are not quite like an English house where smokers can be banished to the doorstep or the backgarden, especially when the ability to light up a Lucky (?!) Strike is considered, by some mugs, to be an essential symbol of male virility.

    And what a queer way to argue on the basis of statistics! If you want to lok at them, why not look up the life expectancy & mortality rates for passive and active smokers and compare them with non-smokers?

    Better still, why not use some of your recently found freedom to visit the cancer wards of a Paris hospital? Perhaps gift a few copies of your book to the terminally ill? It could cheer them up no end to realise that the life they are escaping can be so banal.

    Or, you could, of course, suggest to the adolescent that if he really does love you & have respect for the well-being of yourself and your little one, not to mention his own health, then, yes, he really should quit smoking the evil weed.

    And if not? Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you lost out in love,would it, and it would certainly help to keep the pot simmering? Remember that game of snakes and ladders you played when you were even younger than you are now? Just as you think you are home & dry, winner taking all, you land on the longest snake of them all & it takes you right back to square 1 to start all over again! (Very Freudian, too!)

    So you will then have the chance of a fresh start. Great! Late it may be, but it’s never too late to renounce the self-absorbed, self-centred life you have defined for yourself. If you won’t do it for you, do it for Tadpole!

    Comment by gonzales — January 25, 2008 @ 11:41 pm

  56. Correction! For’herd’ read ‘flock’.

    Comment by gonzales — January 25, 2008 @ 11:45 pm

  57. Just found your blog awhile ago and I must say…Tres Jealous! A Parisian AND with a book deal…as a struggling, procrastinating scribe and shameless hussy, those are my dreams come true (although I have more than several dreams). But seriously, congrats, you deserve it and I look forward to reading your book!

    Comment by Wanderlusting — January 26, 2008 @ 1:03 am

  58. This is probably a stereotype, but I’ve often heard (from people who probably know no better than I) that France is a country comprised almost entirely of chain-smokers. (Having never been there, sadly, I cannot say whether this is largely or even somewhat true.) Still, with a quick Googling of “Smoking in France” under my belt, it doesn’t surprise me that finding an eligible non-smoker would be difficult. The Boy sounds wonderful, and I agree that it’s a bit unfair and impractical to base a decision to be or not to be with someone based upon whether they smoke or not, unless that’s a paramount personal issue.

    I also Googled chilblains. Not too pleasant.

    Anyways, lovely entry, as per usual.

    Comment by Annina — January 26, 2008 @ 8:51 am

  59. I lived with a smoker (my ex-wife) who recently gave it up, for eighteen years; my present partner gave up smoking only last Autumn. But as a life-long non-smoker I left it to them to make up their own minds (the science of passive smoking illness, like global warming, is filled with sounds of grinding axes).

    Personally, I cannot stomach the specious morality of the anti-smoking Taliban and avoid members of that vacuuous cult like an infectious rash.

    Comment by andrew — January 26, 2008 @ 8:59 pm

  60. #59: “Personally, I cannot stomach the specious morality of the anti-smoking Taliban…” Hear, hear! Just because I’m a non-smoker myself, and lung cancer from smoking killed my mother at age 61 after at least twenty years of bronchitis, and I did manage to find a non-smoker to marry and with whom to reproduce, doesn’t mean that everyone has to do the same. It’s just pure hubris to pretend otherwise.

    No one needs these guilt trips, including Petite, and it’s your own choice what to do in the privacy of your home (and in my opinion, that applies to marijuana and alcohol as well). However, out in public where other people not under your personal responsability are endangered – well, I’m not against these anti-smoking or seatbelt laws per se, even if it seems a bit double standard. When going out for a drink gets self-limited, too, we’ll be having a lot more house parties, eh?

    Comment by Alethea — January 28, 2008 @ 8:49 am

  61. #55
    comments like #55 should probably best be completely ignored, but I feel compelled to warn the writer about the hazards posed by such high levels of vitriol…
    Can’t be healthy, can it?

    Comment by happyforyou — January 28, 2008 @ 12:23 pm

  62. In the Canadian province I live in smoking has been banned in public spaces for some time.
    I’m not a smoker, so the ban in beneficial to me but I’ve often I wondered how it would go over in the UK and France. The population of smokers is still much higher there, is it not?

    The provincial government is also talking about passing a law prohibiting smoking in any vehicle with children inside. Huge fines will result.

    Comment by Chi — March 10, 2008 @ 7:42 pm

  63. i thaught parisians lived life and did not fear death what the fuck

    Comment by ravi — June 21, 2008 @ 8:21 am

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