A Letter From Da French In La France

Ah Paris! City of soft beautiful light home to Sacre-Coeur Basilica, Champs-Elysees, Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, and da Eiffel Tower.

Did you try reading all dat in a ridiculous French accent?

Den go back and uh do it. Oh you did already? Well mademoiselle an monsieur, how’s your tongue dewing now, eh?

Yes the city of lovers, but wait… why not uh, Rome, London, Rio, or da—Skokie, Illinois, eh?

Den I shall tell you silly American types why, because uh you do not have da Pont des Arts bridge of… LUUUV! But wait… neider do we anymore.

Sacrebleu!

Oui, we… it is true… we no longer have a lock on that title eider. For shame and fromage… to go with my wine of course (sip).

Uh since you are reading in da English, you may not realize that you have read a French profanity. No, no… don’t worry, I will not breed a word of it to the Pope-pa… ’cause he is uh… in Rome.

I bet you could not write dat in da French eh? Oui, oui, ’cause neider can I.

But uh, back to da Pont des Arts bridge… no?

We French, you see, we are da ro-mantic type. We love all things romantic. Like uh, the French kitty and dat skunk, what’s his name?

Oh yes, Pepe, da skunk Le Pew.

Ah sew (I almost pulled off being Japanese there), when uh you come to see us in la France, we like uh to play da song. You know da song… La Vie En Rose. Dis we do while wearing a beret and holding da botto weeth a glass of sham-pag-a-knee.

And uh sometimes we even do it…  NAY-KID! Oui… it is uh more sexy dat way, eh?

And so as you uh foreigners stand on da Pont des Arts bridge, you feel da luuuv of uh Gay Paree… no? And dis… luuuv it uh, fills your heart, dat is right oui? So, you pull out the padlock as opposed to uh ring… no? Dis is da language of da luuuv in some otter country… is it not?

Far be it uh from me to quest-ion your tra-dicions. But as for us we like da ring bit… but C’est la vie… no?

Dis uh undying luuuv it uh now compels you to boat write (in permanent marker of course) on da padlock your devotion to one anoder. You den attach da padlock onto da fence on da Pont des Arts bridge, and throw da key into da river below. Ah, how ro-mantic… how French of you… no?

Uh no.

You see we French, through no fault of our own, are becoming less ro-mantic ah. Seems our elected officials feel your luuuv is uh crumbling… OUR BRIDGE!

And so, off wit your padlocks before our belov-ed bridge falls into your sea of luuuv, or as we like to call it… the Seine.

Mind you, it is not dat we don’t luuuv you English monet (translation—money), we do. But uh, we like our bridge just a wee bit more.

So Bon Voyage safe journey home, eh!

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