Une Encore Buvez

I'm not sure how or why this blog (and my posts specifically) have suddenly become about us drinking our way across Europe, but for better or for worse (mainly for worse) that's what seems to be going on here.  And it simply has to stop before I end up even stupider.

Last night on our way to dinner, we saw a huge crowd gathered outside of this bar:

Ahhh, the French.  How subtle.

After dinner (and despite Keith's protests) we wandered back down to COX for our now-infamous "Just One Drink."  This time, we found the place to be completely empty, but ordered our One Drink anyway.  While were enjoying our One Drink, KEITH (yes, Keith) suggested we find some other place to have One More Drink, since there was literally no one else at the bar.  After our One Drink, I asked the bartender where else might be fun to go and he pointed us to Freedj...

...which I believe is French for "Jizzaster."   The place was pink and full of craziness, just like their signature beverage:

 Piiiiink iiiiiiit!!!

These drinks were unbelievably tasty, and although I never found out their name (opting instead to just point at them like an American idiot...even though everyone there spoke perfect English) I did manage to ask what was in them:  Pineapple (pronounced pin-apple), Vodka and third ingredient that I couldn't quite make out, though I assume it was something evil...   

...and delicious.  The bar itself was super-crazy in the best way possible.  

Projected along the wall is a little light show which is occasionally interrupted by videos of the staff.  Here's Keith complying as I drunkenly try to produce the clip for you:

Yes.  Each staff member poses and then is tossed a remote control.  Why?  I'm not sure.  But it entertained the crap out of me.   

What else does that remote do?

All of the random insanity seemed to be emanating from the bathroom upstairs, which features this sign for those who don't know how to behave in public...

...along with the the song "Under the Sea" from the Little Mermaid blaring in French.  Over and over again.

Actually, there is a chance it was in English, but I was too full of Pink Panther Juice to comprehend it.  

There's also a little outdoor area for smokers which features this helpful sign:

 I was looking for that.   Mercí!

After somewhere between 3 and 780 beverages, we started talking to this girl Ellen...

...and her adorable friends...

...who were both quite French...

...and were helpful in giving me a starter course in French culture by teaching me the meaning of the phrase "Gay Paris."  

In other news, I have no idea what I'm talking about any more.  I might I still have some PinkDrinkThinkStopper™ in me.

Viva La Freedj!!!!