OK, Maybe This Is A Patton Oswalt Fan Blog

Patton goes to France:

How crowded could the Louvre be?

fucking crowded, especially since the staff had some sort of problem
(croissants late?  an undefined malaise brought on by a grey
realization of the futility of love?) and had to open late. 


Now I have something in common with our “I believe in angels but not evolution” President: I hate the French.

loved Paris.  If there was a way to replace all the Parisians with,
say, people form Finland or St. Louis or something, then aces.

I was so embarrassed when all the dumbshits in this country started
their we-hate-the-French, “freedom fries” bullshit that I HAD to take
the side of the French.  It’s like, when some douchebag you hate hates
something, then even if you haven’t experienced it, you’re going to
like it.

of spite, and probably because — okay, I’ll put it this way.  Say
there’s some asshole, this guy who thinks that Limp Bizkit and Linkin
Park are the greatest bands on the planet, and he announces that he
hates a band called Train.  And you’ve never heard the band train but,
you figure, this guy’s such a shit-bucket intellect, I’m going to love

But then you hear “Meet Virginia” and “Drops of Jupiter”, and you go, “Oh Jesus, that moron’s right.”

Parisians were my “Meet Virginia.”

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