Eiffel Tower, Sweaty Meal, Stereotypes Exist for a Reason

by David Urbanic
Documentarian, Fluffer

Day two started at roughly 2pm. The party raged into dawn and the Parisian party pain was felt heavily in the waking hours of the afternoon. Hangovers were nursed with Jambone and Poulet baguettes and large bottles of water, though Terry and Kyle found the energy to awake earlier in the day and peruse the local gay bakeries for a rare Parisian delicacy; The Penis Bread. Simply put, it’s a baguette shaped like a “Jambone saquette.”

I accompanied Ian and Terry on a seven hour walking tour of Paris. We filmed a number of segments for the “Local Culture with the Sharkey’s” segments that will be a part of the forthcoming documedy/tourfilm. Keep your peepers peeled as we may be uploading some footage in the coming weeks! Our feet blistering journey took us to the Bastille, the Louvre, the “La Musee de Cameltoe Gymnastic”, and the Eiffel Tower.

Our evening ended with a delicious meal of tasty cheese and beef fondue. Fondue is known throughout the world as “the sweatiest meal” due to the incredible level of heat that comes from the small fire pits that are placed on your table to keep the “fromage” melty, and the beef cooked quickly and safely to a palatable temperature. Aside from the sweat factor that comes from a tiny kitchen being placed on your table, one will find the meal to be surprisingly dangerous. Permanent scarring and perhaps the more immediate concern of Ian Sharkey’s singing ability occurred due to fondue recklessness. When eating fondue, always keep in mind the amount of oil that will spurt out of the pot and into your eye when cooking the beef. When eating fondue, always keep in mind the temperature level of the fondue fork when you pull it out of a pot of boiling oil or cheese. Contact with one’s lips and/or mouth area can result in “tour halting injury.”

“My lips hurt like a bastard,” said Ian Sharkey after leaving the restaurant. The only thing that hurt worse than the lip blistering fondue fork was the $12 beer.

On another note, if I may comment on American stereotypes for the French and French Culture. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Stereotypes exist for a reason. Though I can’t say anything on the topic of stinkiness (overall, Paris smells like a flower compared to places like New York), bad attitude, or armpit hair , I can share my observances of style, pretentiousness, French horniness, and food. On the topic of style and pretentiousness, in Paris, everyone is more stylish than you! Everyone. I have not seen one t-shirt in the entire city. Everyone wears a scarf, pointy shoes, and tight legged jeans. And they look good doing it. I have never seen a city of more, generally attractive people, and thus have never felt worse about my own appearance that I have in Paris. Kudos to the French for having their stylistic shit together. In America, people that dress like the Parisians look like assholes and douchebags, but in Paris, they look like a society of well adapted people! I have never wanted to buy a scarf or pointy shoes more than after having visited Paris! On the topic of French horniness; It is often said that Paris is the city of romance, and that the French are renowned lovers. TRUE! I have never seen more people making out on street corners than I have in Paris! They love it, they celebrate it, they live it! Not just making out either, but ass-grabs, tit squeezes, and the whole lot. It’s something to behold. In America people would look at you like you are a horny prick if you made out on the street corner. As for French food, so far so good. The French are revered for their cuisine. Fondue aside, the focus of our French dining has been Jambon and Poulet sandwiches. Basically a ham or chicken hoagie. Except, pretend you’ve never had Subway or Quiznos, and replace those memories with only the best food scent and taste memories you have ever had. We’re talking meat, tomato, bread and mayonnaise and it’s still the best sandwich I’ve had in recent memory. If we see any naked French chicks, photos will be posted, and I will amend my comments to include observations of body odor and armpit hair. If we see any naked French guys, I will keep my comments to myself, and my lens cap on.