"My Paris"

Eucch! "My Paris." I sound like such a pompous ass when I say that. But really, I feel like I am getting to know a whole different Paris from my other two trips here. From what I remember, and God knows how long it has been (no need for my friends to comment here about my lack of dates), tourists see Paris like a first date, dressed up, makeup covering the zits, push-up bra making more of her assets, squeezy underwear making less of her deficits, a little red lipstick to mimic sexual interest.

Yes, maybe Paris is a bit of slut, but it does make her popular with the boys. She gives a few kisses (Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Notre Dame) at the beginning to be friendly and then she stands her ground before giving up anything else - hardware stores, electrical tape, the best baguette, etc. I feel like a guy trying to get to third base, not sure where third base is anymore, but it sounds like a good metaphor.

So I am trying to get up Paris's skirt. Really. And she is being such a bitch about it.

Note to Paris:

Give it up already and stop treating me like an Algerian terrorist. You know you want me.