After the Sad-acombs incident yesterday, Keith went back to the room to try and figure out another way to dispose of our bodies while Bookie and I ventured off to roam the streets of Paris. This time, he armed us with a map so that we wouldn’t spend nine hours
roaming a two block radius.
And so, off we went. For four hours, we wandered through this city taking in the many sights...
...and wonders that Paris has to offer, I came across this amazing local artisan who designs clocks using old cheese adverts as the face. Known as Misseur Camembert, he has been making these clocks for a billion years.
Some are just clocks, others are alarms and still others have little hidden treasures and functions…but the cool thing is: Each one is hand made and completely unique.
The guy was quite charismatic and although he spoke very little English, he was very good about somehow explaining what each of his creations could do.
One featured a sobbing animal on the ad, and when you turned the clock upside down, water drips out, simulating its tears. As awesome as that is, I opted for something more dry:
This clock's face features a seagull, and when you open it up, you find this homemade mess of crazy:
The gull from the front has found a small baby, and placed it in a nest. And yes, those are real bits of nesting glued inside.
When you purchase one of these ticking piles of awesome, he signs, dates...
...and numbers them:
I have no idea what the numbering system means, but I assume it’s veryimportant. And it helps sell the fact that each clock is truly one of a kind.
The guy is a mad genius who randomly wanders around the city selling his wares, so it was quite fortuitous that I ran into him at all.
As the day wore on and I reflected on just how happy he seemed, I decided I needed to pick up some more of these wonders—and perhaps leave my career in reality television and convince him to let me become his apprentice and eventual successor—but alas, later when we returned to the cobblestone strip where he had been selling, he was gone. C’est la vie.
On our way back to the hotel, one of the things that struck me about Paris was how much there is to do everywhere you go:
Lé Statue Dé Secrette: If you give him your secrets, he will devour them. And you.
As an aside, this place is great.
This restaurant is fantastic based on name alone.
Once we returned to the Paris Hilton (Seriously. We were in the Paris Hilton. I may need a medic...) we regrouped and headed back to the Eiffel Tower.
The first time we were there yesterday was super fun…
The French boys love me.
…but I wasn’t really ready for the scope of the beauty of the tower during sunset.
As you read in
Keith’s post, I perished a bit on the billionth floor, but we still had a chance to watch the sun set over Paris, and it was fantastic.
Later, the three of us headed back to our ótel for that dreaded “Just One Drink.” This time, we decided to go easy, since we had to pack and get on a plane to Dublin the next morning.
And yet, when it came time to order, we got three “Retro Zombies” at the hotel bar. These cocktails were allegedly made famous during the 1939 World’s Fair in NYC. Not very French, but my grandparents went on their honeymoon there, so I thought it’d be a cool thing to have.
Or.....
Here's the thing: If my grandma had one of these things on her wedding night, neither my mother nor I would even be in existence, because everything both inside of you and within a three lé pew radius either stops functioning or melts altogether.
The beverage consisted of four or five different types of liquor, to which a serving of flaming absinthe was added…
After the first sip…
Before...
…things go from bad to worse…
The camera is perfectly in focus. I, however, am perishing.
..and eventually, go from worse to Euro-blam…
Once things like this began to happen....
Artist's rendition of what Jeff & Keith could see after a half a glass of this nightmare.
...we bolted back to our room in a failed attempt to get more than a half a second of sleep before flying off to Dublin! O'Lord.
