The French

[Dedicated to Scarlett]

The French. I would like to tell you that that’s all I’m going to write about these foul creatures – they aren’t exactly the most appealing of characters of which to speak. Unfortunately for me, however, no one has had a real go at them in a while; and so, fortunately for YOU, I’ve taken it upon myself to bear the weight of this magnanimous effort, and go all out in one of my unduly unspoken of 500 word rants.

            When I think of the French I don’t think of fine wines, I don’t think of fine art or fine food, I think of sloth, gluttony and ... frogs. These know-it-all pigs make their way through life staking claim to having great taste in all aspects of life, and, for whatever reason, expect the rest of the world to simply accept this, to bow down to them and to look up in awe. Oh how wrong they are.

            I think it’s safe to say that these cheese eating surrender monkeys can go stuff it and head back to their homeland and indulge in their laughable opinions there. Speaking on behalf of not only myself, but the entirety of Europe (bar Switzerland), at absolute least, I would like to suggest that you, the French, stick to what you do best, which is not giving advice to every unlucky soul you pass, but rather ... nothing. Do nothing. Sit at home, smoke your cigarettes, but do nothing else. Honestly, I think everyone would be happier if you kept to yourself and didn’t go around pestering others about the arts, mooching off every kind soul who’s willing to offer momentary kindness – a place to stay, something to eat. You drive us nuts, all of you, there are no exceptions (not in my opinion, at least).

           On top of this, I’ve found that something the frogs love to do is when someone, who doesn’t speak French, asks a Frenchman a question they have this tendency to insist on replying in French. Now… why? They know they’re making things more difficult, they know that they could simply reply in English and help a stranger out. But no, they are determined to make everybody’s lives as difficult as possible. Are they too proud to reply in a foreign language? Are they trying to get retribution for something? I don’t know, and I fear I never will. But regardless of whether I ever understand why they do this, I wish they would stop.

           What I’ve mentioned above is only the tip of the iceberg. The French are so egotistical, so up themselves holy about every single thing they say, do or think, that I find it incredible that they haven’t gone extinct yet due to feeling it proper to only make love to themselves and no one else!

           To everyone who isn’t French, I have only this to say: you may not be able to control your future, but for God’s sake make sure there isn’t a Frenchman in it! You’ll thank me.