Ok, at long last, an entry on Paris…
Just when it started looking like Paris was still all about annoyingly grumpy parisians, endless strikes and rude, eternally malcontent, cab drivers (a mere thirty minutes after leaving the airport, I had my first lecture on how shuttle buses from the airport where stealing work from cabs and how he usually never picked fares at the shuttle station)…
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What you do when you have too much time in your flight from Tokyo to Kuala Lumpur…
Following my recent entry mentioning this foul tasting and weirdly named popular japanese beverage: Pocari Sweat, here is a little graph to make things clear.
Click on the picture for a full-size version.
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Here is a little something taken two days ago just before leaving Tokyo (more on Paris, where I am now, later)…
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Since I now host an install of MT on my own servers, I offered my friend David R., a Frenchman who lives in SF, to set him up with his own blog (link removed: blog taken offline), knowing he would certainly have interesting things to say.
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On the Yamanote-sen, you can learn English while commuting… kinda.
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For the fourth time this year, I had to take apart my venerable albeit quite moody laptop in order to fix it. It’s becoming a tradition.
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Met up with a few fellow frenchmen yesterday… went to a small bar in shibuya for a few beers.
Nordine’s new shaved head look was quite reminiscent of a Palestinian militant on the run. Of course, the pose he took for the pictures did not help either…
Anyway, here are the pics (touched up a bit in Photoshop) and I’ve got his address in tokyo, just in case the Mossad is interested.
Eventually managed to hook up with Cheu’s friend, Mie, who lives in Tokyo but has also been living in SF for a while…
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taken with my lovely little digital camera (impossible to whip it out without prompting a strident kawaiiiiii-ne! from every single female in a 10 feet radius)…
Anyway, these are from some small dinner parties at the house last week and a recent outing to some izakaya in Kamata. Elena going back to Brazil, the discovery of a pretty damn good bottle of California red, and the fact we just felt like it, were respectively deemed sufficient reasons for these bouts of partying.
You can see the whole lot here.
Looking for an old friend’s address, I stumbled upon BM’s website… been a long time.
Trying to stay clear of I-told-you-so‘s and it-s-not-what-it-used-to-be‘s, it is still hard to ignore how crassly commercial Burning Man has become…
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