People who speak English as a first language have no reason to insert French words or phrases into their speech as though they cannot express what they mean in any other way in English. I don’t give a fuck if you know French. And if you think you are special just because you know French, you can take some Freedom Fries and shove them up your candy ass. French is a language. It is functional and utilitarian. There is nothing sexier about French than Swahili or Farsi or Xhosa, or fucking English, because it’s a language. Thinking that a language is sexier than another language is like thinking that spoons are sexier than forks. You are no classier because you know words that have ʒ and χ in them than someone who knows words with p or t or ʘ. But you are, however, a self-important–how do you say?–douche, if you think you are. English is not so impoverished. Sure, you can talk about duvets and crepes and rouge other such pretty delicate things for which English does not have its own commonly-used word. But when you are pausing dramatically to fake a lapse in articulation and tell me that you mistrusted someone because of his–how do you say?–allure, you should instead be a man, un-fucking-italicize your nouveau riche–je ne sais quois–and tell me about the guy’s motherfucking demeanor.
*Photo from Current TV.





oh dalia…your humor slays me.
Just so you know, I would consider googling silverware sexual fetishes if I were not at work. Then I would be able to tell you why a spoon is sexier than a fork.
I like the assumption that silverware fetishes exist. I don’t doubt it. Which do you find sexier?
Je vous penser et je pouvais prendre un verre quelque temps. Très bientôt. Peut-être que la vodka, mais des tonnes de bières à coup sûr.
loghet el tany
ou si vous avez pouvait aller de la bière et vodka avec notre maman! : D