lah - the joys of life

The woman next to me stinks.

She smells like she's been bathing in shit.

Actually she smells like a bath is something she's been avoiding (successfully) for the last 3 months.

That, and she's been rolling in mouldy, greasy crisps.

I desperately want to say 'Die! You'll smell better!!!", but my French isn't that good.

Shame, really.

She has more good habits, as well: she's incapable of eating quietly, or with her mouth closed.

'Knouch' of 'schnack' are the onomatopoeia I seem to remember to describe the wet clicking sound that someone makes when they do that: chew with their mouth open, masticating slowly for all to enjoy.

Delightful.

She sprawls.

To the extent that the mess that was once in her no doubt virgin-unwashed bag, is now all over the floor and desk.

She shoves her arse back and pushes into me...as I'm doing something most assuredly non-arse related.

Have you got the impression that she's annoying the hell out of me? Not the word I'd use, but I'm being polite.

I wonder what she'd make of that. I think the concept bypassed her.

Just as did the words 'soap and water'.

France.

Interesting place.

You pick up things.

The French aren't (so I've seen) obviously good-looking.

I've only seen one attractive woman, and she was of Arab descent, I'm sure. And bad for my blood pressure, too.

Because she hit on two fronts: looks and this wonderful deportment the French have that just smacks of complete confidence.

Dashed attractive.

Another thing I've noticed.

They work the 'individual' angle well, too.

I get the impression that whoever ends up 'running' (ha!) this country will speak only for themselves when they speak on the international stage for 'La France'.

But they'll also be talking for each and every other one of them.

Cause they're all individual, but individually the same. That's a new one on me.

I explained it slightly better earlier, but I've just had a noseful of old bag...it's nauseating.