Ok Frenchies, let’s start a list:
No Thanksgiving. Ok, I get that. You never met the Indians, you never slaughtered them mercilessly to the point of genocide, then stole their birth right, you out right don’t give a flying monkey f*ck about them. I guess a holiday wouldn’t make much sense. I forgive your general lack of understanding of this classic American holiday and your flagrant disgust of cranberry sauce. You don’t know what you’re missing, and you don’t care.
No Saint Patty’s.
Sucks, but I suppose I’ve no need to get hammered at 8am in the middle of the work week now that I’m over the 25-yr-hump. (Not sure my feeble, aging body could handle the hangover.) I’ll overlook your lack of funitiude, and chalk it up to the fact that alcohol has no mysteries left for your noble countrymen and vignerons.
No 4/20. D’accord, d’accord, though for a city so full of pot heads, I’m still surprised by that one. I can’t seem to get through a Saturday evening out without getting a whiff of a slpiff (metro, parc, bakery… yeah that was a bit odd). I suppose you don’t need a special day of smoking weed if you’re out getting high on the weekends, eh?
But no Cinco de Mayo? Really? Not a word in the press. The television, sadly, festiviless. I mean for once, you frenchies are involved. I expected more from you guys. I miss the states just thinking about all the assholes who are going to go out and do shots of tequila wearing sombreros or painting fake Mexican mustaches on their faces, passing out while doing the Mexican Hat Dance or something else utterly retarded. Where are my fake mexican mustaches? Schools will be doing stupid Cinco de Mayo parties in Spanish class. Where’s the party over here?? Obviously not where I am.