‘Travel | Europe’ Posts(2)
The quick brown fox jumped over the good, but lazy Parker family.
Enough. 5:30 p.m. Paris. Today. Pont Neuf. You come alone, you walk to the middle of that bridge. You take off your jacket. Face east. I’ll redial this number.
I’m sure I’ve once again offended a couple centuries of cultured peoples by having this association, but (again) you can take the American out of America, but you can’t …
he chose the latter.
my father really hasn’t done much with alcohol at least since i’ve been around — there is a childhood story about mixing day old empties together which still gives me the heebs — but each meal i’d pick out something for myself that i thought he’d like, give him a sample and then he’d either order it or something he had earlier in the trip.
i have to say he’s built himself a respectable palette for the darker stuff — mostly brown ales and stouts. the effort was made a bit easier by English beer’s milder taste than it’s American microbrew cousins, but a beer is a beer and now he’s fully prepped up to tie one down at work functions and the like.
i’m so proud 🙂
In fact, i’m working on my elevator pitch for a Real Housewives of Buckingham Palace as we speak.