quick post from Europe because that’s what I traveled thousands of miles to do.

First things first, my cousin has an awesome frowny face.

It’s rather sad to think that the only thing I look forward most to is coming back to the hotel, read Candide/some esoteric book debating against God/ watching American shows dubbed in French/German/ Spanish.  Anime in Spanish is awkward.

Now there’s a German guy with a Jamaican accent singing the Hot and Cold song by Katy Perry or however you say her name.

Now, I must address my faithful viewers.  Thanks for loving me and such.  And Chi Nghi… my posts are full of moral lessons such that they rival that of those taught in the Bible or something.  I don’t appreciate your comment. :[  Anyway, I MISS YOU.  SO MUCH.  I HATE BEING HERE.  IT'S FULL OF FAIL AND NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES AND BEING KILLED AND ALMOST KILLING FOREIGNERS WE DON'T UNDERSTAND WHEN THEY CUSS US OUT FOR CRASHING OUR OVERSIZED CAR INTO THEM.

Lots more ranting to come, but my time of normalcy is limited by a tyrannical force, so all my trepidation, angst, and dpression will be compacted into a cutesy post.

Hey Chi Nghi... can you check if my AP scores are posted?  Hopefully they won't be epic fail.  Thanks.   And I don't know how often I can have Internet, so please don't expect regular posts.

A quick recapitulation of Europe.

Or rather, a list of cities we have and will have visited by the end of this trip.

Paris, Bordeaux, Marid, Barcelona, Marseilles, Nice, Roma, Venice, Vienna, Lucern, [some small city in Germany with the nasal phlegm sound], Amsterdam…THEN FREEDOM.

I shall be back on the 24th of July with my awesome cousins who are forcing me to type this at gunpoint.

Rather, I wish to say a few things about the sights I have seen, the things I have witnessed, and the people I have tried to communicate with.

The Moulin Rouge in France is nothing like the Moulin Rouge of Hollywood.  There is no Nicole Kidman.  Truth, love, freedom, liberty, all the ideals of man proclaimed to be celebrated and venerated by the hedonistic and idealistic crowds?  Fuck that.  Strap-ons, cosplay clothes, naked models, girls on posters screaming in orgastic ecstasy.  Hedonistic pleasures and sensual images full street after street.  Videos promoting all sorts of unimaginable lust and love light up the streets.  oh, and it’s next to the Sacred Couer.  The Sacred Heart.  The most sacred church.  Ironic, isn’t it?  Hows that for sacreligious for you?

Since my cousins are all despotic right now, I can’t talk about the interesting things that happened to me.  I have to talk about them.  Interpolation- black gangsters in France have a waaaay better fashion sense than the ones in America.  They look BADASS.  They also make some sort of living, or make a sport out of, terrorizing women coming out of the subway station by crowding at the entrance, chanting some sort of …something…and handing out pieces of paper with half naked extremely built men on them.

But yeah…traffic here sucks.  It’s like driving in New York without all the traffic signals…like a labrinth…like…having near death experiences every other minute.

But back to my cousins.  I also havve to talk about my brother and my cousins, who are all very awesome and apparently are my new best friends…next to trees and dirt.

When we went to the L’Arc de Triomphe, my brother and cousin were taking pictures of “my best friends” since I told them that they were at the bottom of my friends list.

Them:  OH MY GOD, BURRITO GUY.

Me:  What the hell are you talking about?

Them:  LOOK. LOOK.

And as their high-pitched and excited voices promised, I looked to the direction their grubby little fingers pointed.  Lo and behold!  There was a guy wearing his hat tilted to the side, wolfing down a gigantic burrito.  No, my friends, he was just not “wolfing down,” his mouth contorted to positions I never knew existed, his eyes portrayed a sense of orgasmic serenity that looked like some religious figure nearing Nirvana.  His mouth just wrapped around that thing and gnashed, gnashed, gnashed.  It was disgusting.  It was beautiful.  I never knew such happiness could be achieved from eating a burrito in France.

So that’s Burrito Guy, my new best friend.

There was also Trashcan Guy- a really tall black man putting trash into a trashcan.  There was also Guy- some guy with his shirt way up and his belly exposed for the world to see.  My eyes burned.

My brother is awesome, cute, and almost 11.

My cousin’s frowning is awesome and a sin against mankind.

Martin is mean and everyone thinks he’s a child abuser because people saw him choking my brother in public.  Whoot.  International criminal.

So yeah…that’s about it.  A short little piece of my world.

Oh yeah, I read some of Breaking Dawn and Eclipse.

I HATE IT. I HATE IT. I HATE IT.  I wanted to strangle myself and kill my cousin who showed me the book, but luckily I restrained myself and I only beat her into unconsciousness.

Harry Potter whores himself out here a lot.

HE’S EVERYWHERE I GO. OH MY GOD.

so yeahhhhhhhhhh

That’s my life.

I ahte it.

Please get me out of here.  Sad face Sad face sad sadfadsklfhadsfdsfsd

Europe may very well be beautiful, but I hold an egregious view of it currently.

Sometimes, I wouldn’t mind being the awkward American tourist traveling in those obese tourist buses and being scorned by people.  I wouldn’t mind being charged outrageous prices, hearing loads of English, and eating McDonalds and Burger King.  I don’t mind being derided.  At least not yet.  Because this sucks serious monkeybutt.  Waking up at 5, not understanding anything, getting lost, crashing, crashing, crashing, crashing, having the stick-shift car stall on you while you’re going downhill, almost killing people and crashing into parked cars, almost dying, being stressed out, and being annoyed by ….excruciatingly unbearable cousins/brother.  Ugh.

So yeah.  That’s Europe for you.  Hopefully it’ll get better, or at least we wouldn’t have heart attacks every other minute.