Another day passed
So. Yeah...today I went to a modern art museum (Pompadieu?). Lots of attractive people again.
Let me start from the beginning: went to sleep at 1AM because I was watching Brokeback Mountain. I teared up a little the first time they parted ways and Ennis started crying. I was completely upset. I wanted to reach into my computer screen and give Jack Twist a good talking to. I MEAN, JESUS CHRIST. HE EVEN LOOKED BACK. Stop the car, motherfucker. And ugh I can't watch that movie I turn into a baby when it comes to homosexuals.
So I woke up in the morning feeling tired. But I got up 'cause I had to. We set off for the Pablo Picasso museum but upon arriving we saw a sign saying it had been closed for renovations since August 2009 and it would be reopening in 2012. Nice job. So, we journeyed on to the modern art museum where there was lots of naked women and a few naked men and I got very irritated because my aunt seemed to think I was uncomfortable with it when I just didn't want to be there. This went on the entire time we were there so it was not the best of times.
Now, let me describe the attractive people here a bit, since I never get to speak about who I think are nice looking or anything. Megan makes it seem like my Chansung bias is very obvious, but the truth is that I rarely mention him, even if I do think he's beautiful. But I am not here to talk about him, rather the Frenchmen. The older gentlemen I mentioned in my last post looked like an older version of an Armani model. The workers in American Apparel looked better than the models on the walls and even the fucking conductor on the metro was pretty good-looking. In the US, we get old men, but in France, you get thin, dark-haired, smokes-ten-packs-a-day sort of guys. Marcia should really invest in that Victoria Secret-esque pamphlet idea for Paris because it would work.
Maybe Stephanie wasn't too far off when she said that the gay men's chorus version of Grease was what went on in my mind (except the White men were Asian). I think they're also French now. I also had a dream last night that involved something with G.O and the loss of his mustache. So upsetting. I think I was telling my mom about it and he just showed up and I forget the rest. That's pretty irrelevant anyways.
We had sushi after (actually it was before) we left the museum. It was quite good. AFTER we had dinner. Chinese food, vague berry sorbet for dessert. Cool stuff.
I keep forgetting to add stuff from previous days. When we were at the Louvre, I saw this kid dressed in regular American asshole-like skater clothing. The Huffy baseball cap, the oversize shoes and puffy sweater. Now, I saw his older brother dressed the exact same way, different clothes, but same annoying concept. We go through an exhibit, I see the same kid and brother. Except I see his brother has grey hairs, and we walk past him, and I see it's his fucking DAD. I was very disturbed that a forty or fifty year old man was dressing the same way his ten year old son was. It was wrong on so many levels. And I doubt it was one of those weird kids that age three times faster than you're supposed to because he had a big ol' camera like stupid tourist parents do. And he just gave me an old man trying to be hip vibe. I was crying imagining him saying to his son "hey dog, what's up yo! don't talk black to me."
I want to watch Brokeback Mountain again. THAT KISS SCENE IS BEAUTIFUL, MAN. That will never get old, and it won't make me cry. It does make me choke up a teeny bit, but that's a secret.
Let me start from the beginning: went to sleep at 1AM because I was watching Brokeback Mountain. I teared up a little the first time they parted ways and Ennis started crying. I was completely upset. I wanted to reach into my computer screen and give Jack Twist a good talking to. I MEAN, JESUS CHRIST. HE EVEN LOOKED BACK. Stop the car, motherfucker. And ugh I can't watch that movie I turn into a baby when it comes to homosexuals.
So I woke up in the morning feeling tired. But I got up 'cause I had to. We set off for the Pablo Picasso museum but upon arriving we saw a sign saying it had been closed for renovations since August 2009 and it would be reopening in 2012. Nice job. So, we journeyed on to the modern art museum where there was lots of naked women and a few naked men and I got very irritated because my aunt seemed to think I was uncomfortable with it when I just didn't want to be there. This went on the entire time we were there so it was not the best of times.
Now, let me describe the attractive people here a bit, since I never get to speak about who I think are nice looking or anything. Megan makes it seem like my Chansung bias is very obvious, but the truth is that I rarely mention him, even if I do think he's beautiful. But I am not here to talk about him, rather the Frenchmen. The older gentlemen I mentioned in my last post looked like an older version of an Armani model. The workers in American Apparel looked better than the models on the walls and even the fucking conductor on the metro was pretty good-looking. In the US, we get old men, but in France, you get thin, dark-haired, smokes-ten-packs-a-day sort of guys. Marcia should really invest in that Victoria Secret-esque pamphlet idea for Paris because it would work.
Maybe Stephanie wasn't too far off when she said that the gay men's chorus version of Grease was what went on in my mind (except the White men were Asian). I think they're also French now. I also had a dream last night that involved something with G.O and the loss of his mustache. So upsetting. I think I was telling my mom about it and he just showed up and I forget the rest. That's pretty irrelevant anyways.
We had sushi after (actually it was before) we left the museum. It was quite good. AFTER we had dinner. Chinese food, vague berry sorbet for dessert. Cool stuff.
I keep forgetting to add stuff from previous days. When we were at the Louvre, I saw this kid dressed in regular American asshole-like skater clothing. The Huffy baseball cap, the oversize shoes and puffy sweater. Now, I saw his older brother dressed the exact same way, different clothes, but same annoying concept. We go through an exhibit, I see the same kid and brother. Except I see his brother has grey hairs, and we walk past him, and I see it's his fucking DAD. I was very disturbed that a forty or fifty year old man was dressing the same way his ten year old son was. It was wrong on so many levels. And I doubt it was one of those weird kids that age three times faster than you're supposed to because he had a big ol' camera like stupid tourist parents do. And he just gave me an old man trying to be hip vibe. I was crying imagining him saying to his son "hey dog, what's up yo! don't talk black to me."
I want to watch Brokeback Mountain again. THAT KISS SCENE IS BEAUTIFUL, MAN. That will never get old, and it won't make me cry. It does make me choke up a teeny bit, but that's a secret.