I was eating a bag of BBQ potato chips, flip it over and find a damn powerpoint presentation on how many things aren’t in my chips. I know I’m oversimplifying an incredibly complex system, but I’d love it if my chips had two ingredients: Potatoes, love*
*love may contain up to 10% of carcinogenic substances, but tastes like BBQ
At first, the tour of the new gym felt like a tour of a cruise ship. I’ve never been on a cruise ship, but something tells me a one of those would have as many bars and fruit infused water stations. But after our first day of doing what should do at a gym, exercise, I found that all the bells and whistles weren’t just for show - they play a critical role: they make you want to go to the gym. Let’s all cut the bullshit right now, I don’t look forward to going to the gym, but I do look forward to being healthy - perpetually look forward. This new place has enough components, yes some pretentious, but enough components that it makes the experience enjoyable. And that, I hope, was what I was missing for all the other gyms I’ve gone too.
For reals, I’ve never taken to a mode of transportation, including walking, driving, swimming, or even biking, as naturally as riding a segway. You remember that scene in Forest Gump when his leg braces break and he runs for the first time? It’s like that. No, it’s better than that. It’s as easy as falling on your ass, but the segway turns your natural clumsiness into a purposeful acceleration. Once you get the hang of things, after just a few minutes, you’ll get to enjoy some sweet ass vectors!
Monaco Money, Monaco Problems.
B.I.G. said it best. Monaco was like being in a den of wolves, but every wolf is a descendant of Thurston Howell III. I’ve never seen so many hundreds of millions of dollars all transformed into yachts, hotels, and Le Casino. I felt like at any moment, someone could purchase me against my will.
Lovely views though, I must say.
While I’m certainly in a French city, surrounded by French people, I wouldn’t say Nice offers a total immersion experience. Since it’s a city with a lot of tourism most places default to using English as a means of saving the time it would take to learn that, in fact, one doesn’t speak French. Or maybe it’s something about my attire that is a dead giveaway? Is a huge sunburn, cargo shorts, and a shirt that says “Kansas” really that obvious?
Happy Birthday, ‘Merica!
While you’re trying your best to not watch a child blow their thumbs off, I’ll be in France watching the the FRA VS GER game with a bunch loud, drunk, and potentially depressed Frenchmen.