French wine is a little vinegary, but halfway through a glass you don't care. Stuff goes right to your head. People at shops in the Latin Quarter expect you to not speak French, bought stuff several times, the only word they and I exchanged was 'merci'. French girls appear to be jealous of my Black Milk fairy paint leggings. I have no other explanation for the occasional not-quite-dirty looks I have gotten. Found accidentally giant park next to hotel, plan to hoop there later. Also plan on getting drunk by the Seine on French wine, and not falling in. Also.. Anniversary dinner tonight shaping up pretty nicely. Just some garlic and a baguette.. Oh yeah... And some more wine. :)
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