This Can’t Be Paris Because I Don’t Hear Any Damn Accordions
Everybody knows that Paris and accordion music go together like baguettes and butter, cheese and wine, waiters and rudeness.
Mary Flannery is an L.A. woman and writer lost in Switzerland. Her funny and slightly-less-funny words have appeared in McSweeney’s, 251, the TLS, and WaPo. She tweets medievally as @15thcgossipgirl.
Everybody knows that Paris and accordion music go together like baguettes and butter, cheese and wine, waiters and rudeness.
Someone or something begins to rattle the door back and forth as if trying to force it open. Suddenly, it stops.
Thanks to you and the Magical Musical Mat™, every minute of my life is now a beeping, squawking, nonstop honking nightmare.
There is dirt everywhere, all the time. At no point is anybody completely clean (not even the rich people).
Before the tension in the air makes someone scream, say quietly, "I could tell you, but then—well, you know…"