Monday, February 15, 2010

Watch this after my previous post, if you're so inclined to read either

Something did seem familiar when I watched the HTTM trailer over and over again, and then it came to me. John Cusack, 1986, Skiing! Perchance we will get another look at him careening downhill just like in his 1985 smash hit Better off Dead in which he has to race ski jock Roy Stalin down the dangerous K-12 on one ski in order to win back his girlfriend! Excitement, adventure, but no Craig Robinson. Check it out the trailer or this phenomenal clip.

Yes, another movie post

This is going to be awesome, although I expect that everyone has already seen the trailer. Just go to the part where Craig Robinson says, "It must be some sort of... hot tub time machine!" And repeat that at least a dozen times. Oh, and the tagline is "Get Tub'd." Awesome.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

A Team Trailer!!

This movie is going to be terrible. Period. But that Bradley Cooper sure does look good as a shirtless Templeton "Faceman" Peck. That said, I'll see you at the midnight premiere.

Happy Valentine's Day So Deal With It Motherfuckers!

It's February 14th, WHO WANTS TO FUCK THIS?

Well, it's that time of year again, and, living in the most romantic city in the world, it's hard to escape the passion that hits everyone on Valentine's day. As I galavanted through the Jardin des Plantes this afternoon (that's French for "Dwarf Sex Village") whilst being serenaded by a group of 12 melancholy gypsies each playing a ukelele, I happened upon this statue

of a man killing a bear with his bare (bear? hahaha) hands and was completely taken over by a powerful lust unlike anything I've ever felt before. Fortunately, I found myself in Paris' little people red light district so my sexual fervor was quickly assuaged for the right price in a way that can only be described by the commemorative photo that was sold to me for a reasonable price by a remarkably friendly madam. It wasn't a very productive Valentine's for me, but the emotions I've felt have been unique, I hope perchance I can experience them again while watching George Lopez as Alphonso in Valentine's Day, a movie written by a woman whose few other writing credits include The Prince and Me 2, 49 episodes of "Army Wives", and 1 phenomenal episode of "Xena: Warrior Princess."

Could this be the romance I've been looking for?

Thursday, February 11, 2010

I went to the store to get more...

Faster than the speed of dance!

I've recently been informed that I'm a phenomenal dancer, a dance god, if you will. Apparently people have been known to come to Paris in order to find themselves (see Lost Generation, etc. [booooring.]), but upon arriving, it seems that the dance fever discovered me. I am no longer Alex, friend, compatriot, veteran, philanthropist, nude barista, and ultraconservative lyrical poet. No. I'm the Dance Commander. With Michael Jackson's recent death on everyone's minds, few have realized that the "Dance Commander" position has now reopened, and it seems only fitting that I take the reins. So, public, I will be there for you. If there is a crowded room that really doesn't need one more obnoxious person throwing themselves around, I'll be there. If people are at a club and don't (oddly enough) want someone to beat on their heads while they sing invented lyrics to a song that is predominantly instrumental, I'll be there. If I feel like it, I'll be there, dancing to the people's chant of, "Dance Commander, We Love You!"

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


Rolled in around 5:30 am and had a Mars ice cream bar. That shit's delicious. Just saying. But on my walk home, these pigeons kept coming up to me like people. That's not people, that's birds. These things don't fly, they just walk around shaking their heads erratically like they're my imaginary cousin Ray-Ray (you know, LaShawna's boy, Ray-Ray). Anyways, it's got me thinking about all these gypsies running around (file photos below),

Give me your coins, gringo, or I snatch your face!

and I think I've come to a fairly solid conclusion- they're cursing people and turning them into one of two things: flightless, human-like pigeons or babies. The pigeon thing seemed obvious at first, but the baby magic only just came to me. How brilliant an idea to take the avaricious, snobby, and obscenely wealthy members of contemporary french society (file photos below)

and turn them into money producing infants that you can use to your benefit. Perhaps this power adds a sense of relief for the gypsies as they walk down the street begging people for coins, jewels, etc. with their helpless, cursed aristocrat-children hanging off their chests getting glares from the subway patrons who are smart enough not to fall into their gypsy traps. My theory is based primarily off of a striking photo of a young Billy Dee Williams, but I feel that better arguments have been made off of worse premises, so I'll stick to what I've got for now.

It looks so harmless, but that baby used to be the CEO of Vodaphone

Monday, February 8, 2010


Screw Julie and Julia, give this bitch an Oscar for Doubt, like NOW.

First Day of Classes!!!!

This post is NOT about my first day of classes. That shit was last week, and I kicked some ass. My teachers were all, "Hey, stop sleeping in class!" and I responded "Pythagoras n' shit!" but they weren't impressed cuz I was screaming some English at them and they looked at me like I was Canadian Jesus or something. So I'm going back out to the bars tonight. Epic. I think I should probably let the public know just how I prepare for a good night out, but that list is unfortunately long, so I'll give you guys the basics.

1. Dinner
Dinner should be huge, period. Eat large quantities of red meat, starting with cured sausage and working your way through something more imposing (32 oz. of browned ground chuck should do the trick- I go for 70% lean, 30% fat to get more meat volume per weight purchased, trust me on that math). Finally, I like to chase one or two live game hens around the apartment to help keep my reflexes sharp, and then consume those raw (the feathers can be used to make dreamcatchers, a favorite hobby of mine).

2. Grooming
A typical shower won't do the trick when you go out as hard as I do, that's why I don't take one. I would recommend covering a scotch-brite pad in dish detergent and apply liberally to the entire body. The roughness of the scotch-brite pad will let your pores breath (awesome!) and the dish degergent will use its patented grease-cutting formula to ensure a clean that can only be described as wholly unsatisfying. Scent? Meadows and rain or anything citrus. A quick spray of febreeze will also get the job done.

3. Tthhee Tthhee Tthhee Party
Whatever you do, dance your ass off. Less Justin Timberlake, more Richard Simmons. Have as many drinks as you need to get there.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Paris, Je Live Here

I guess it's about time I got down to brass taxes like I'm Zacchaeus and there's a lot of brass around (See Luke 19:1-10 if you're ignorant and don't yet fear the rapture like you properly should- it's coming, y'all). So this is the city I live in right now. It's called Paris and it's awesome. We have a grocery store, a few traffic circles, and best of all, a 19th century Victorian Era iron tower that was supposed to be torn down some 20 years after it was erected (like my boners! [hilarious]) but instead has become a national icon for us Parisians. Haha, how cool is it that I can say I'm Parisian now that I live here!! It's just like in the states when I claim that I'm active military so that I can get a 15% discount at Six Flags!! Fucking Awesome! My favorite ride is definitely the Batwing, but we don't have one of those here in Paris. Today we saw some really old buildings that were totally retro-chic; the exposed framework of these houses totally made me think of how skinny Madonna was in the 80s. France has a lot of other cool stuff, too. We have a crazy man who lives here and throws crazy parties named Sarkozy (file photo shown below).
He's kind of like our president but short and gross and not like our president. Well, I'm glad to finally be getting into the swing of this blogging thing, the competition between me, Stephmaster Flex, Nataho Berkmenistan, and Loba Pleez is getting to be intense, so expect shrill vituperation n' shit from yours truly. *GypsySignOff*

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Another Boot to the Face...

This bitch has the audacity to be sleeping on my couch right now?!?!?!?!?!?! REWIND! Yeah, I know, in medias res and all that shit; who even knows what I'm talking about right now. You'd think that after a satisfying meal I'd be content to deal with the devil himself (Parkem Horem), but apparently that's not the case. The devil is NOT welcome in this house of god, where I am god, and where my roommate Preeper Kucerovich (name also changed) is the Pope. I guess parkem's in line for another face-booting. Man, it's exhausting even thinking about all of this. I had a long day touring Monmartre and let's just say that my inner thighs are exhausted! It takes a lot of energy to climb that hill :) . But seriously, weird sex for money :( . Time to go butter myself up and drift off to sleep where I can dream of a world filled with clones of myself who all find everything I say stimulating. Expect a graphic personal portfolio soon. Nothing sexual, I assure you, but very explicit, to say the least.

Friday, February 5, 2010

I Hate Certain People

Oh yeah, tonight was a blast alright. SARCASM ALERT! I now hate certain people. Notably Parkem Horem (whose name was changed to protect his/her identity) who RUINED MY NIGHT!!!!!111!!! I walked a solid 3 blocks out of my way only to be mildly disappointed and then have an awesome night. I can safely say that this person is getting a boot to the face as soon as I have the opportunity. I'm kidding, of course. But seriously, boot to head, Parkem! I don't think things here could get any worse. I feel like I'm in Somalia being forced to be friendly with weirdos and their slaves (and neither category is fun). I am so cool, and yet no one seems to appreciate it :( . Well, I guess I should go to bed. It's nearly 6 AM and I have a lot of important shit to do tomorrow. Serious shit. With other real human beings. More posts soon! I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!! PARIS 2010!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jesus I'm Alone.


This is the greatest study abroad blog ever created. No. That's false. This is the best study abroad blog ever created:

Mine, however, happens to be the greatest French study abroad blog ever produced, hence the name I've chosen: "My French Study Abroad Blog Is Better Than Everyone Else's So Deal With It Motherfuckers." It's shocking to me that the acronym MFSABIBTEESDWIM had yet to be taken by anyone, in particular by some people I know (you know who you are), but that's the way the bottle is spun. And I spun the bottle well. And I got to make out with an awesome acronym as a result, so there, deal with it motherfuckers. That said, I have to play catch-up and write some sweet-ass posts since apparently I'm not the first person ever to come up with this sort of idea. This blog is going to be some straight fire, the kind of shit that'll win me the Nobel prize. There's no Nobel Prize for blogging though, so I guess a Nobel Peace Prize will have to do, and I'm going to be the first person ever to get one for straight kicking ass.