For the blackened lungs of addicted France
Where bums smoke filters flattened against the pavement
i was inspired by some recent poetry posted at tears of a clownsilly.
im only bitter because its hard to find fresh air. Much harder than you might think...
Theres a dog show going on here in town. I cant help but be reminded of the French poodle stereotype. I get the feeling that this is a country that takes the repulsive tradition of dog-breeding seriously, and certainly they don’t treat dogs very nicely.
Most dogs seem to be small here, which makes sense for such a high density country, but they treat them much more like an object for entertainment than a companion. Well, I know that the dog that lives with me back home is probably a great deal more intelligent, kind and humane than some of the bureaucrats in the “administration francais”, the stifling bureaucracy of this country where no one wants to help you or do their job. The canine keiser is quite a special dog.
Buts its ok, by the end of the year i will probably be like many others here, indifferent to all the nasty people who dont do their job.
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