How Do You Say "Asshole" in French?

I am here in Strasbourg, France, traveling with Sultan as he works all day. I would like to expressly thank Ron Goodyke for giving me four useless years of French language education in high school that have amounted to me asking, "Parlais vous anglais?" every damn place I go. I am an asshole in a foreign land.

I visited the Cathedral of Notre Dame today. It was massively huge, which I know is redundant, but if you were here you would understand. My camera cannot even begin to do it justice. Just get your ass over here sometime before you die. It's splendid. The ornate details in the sculptures, statues, and architecture make our sad American churches look like our kids made them from graham crackers and Betty Crocker frosting. There is no comparing European architecture. There is some serious skill that was involved in making this and frankly, Americans were and still are too lazy to attempt anything even close. Our shit is faster, bigger, and with 40% more creamy filling. Sounds like porn but I'm referring to all the fatties out there who go to Mickey D's and get the Filet O' Fish AND two cheeseburgers and eat all of that greaseball wad in 5 bites. You know who you are. You sat next to me on my flight to DC a few weeks ago. But I digress.

So as my sinus headache began to throb, I sought out a cafe with a menu that had English for me, the blonde bimbo, big-boobed American dumb shit. At the point of either vomiting or passing out, I had to say screw it and go into Cafe Rohan, which seemed like a decent choice. Let me give all of you world travelers a bit of advice. If you want to make the locals respect you and not put pubes in your food, at least TRY to speak the language. I forgot this little detail, being on the verge of stabbing someone for a croissant. When I asked if he spoke English, Monsieur Up Yours (don't know the direct translation) gave me a smirk that told me he already hated me. Great. Now give me my God damn cappuccino since I have had no caffeine yet today. I ordered the Munster Chaud salad, which roughly translates to salad with funky greens and baguette with hot, creamy cheese that smells like dirty underwear and toe jam. DEEEEEEEEEE-LISH! (Once I got past the odor..) But no, it didn't stop there. My waiter told me this Tarte Flambee was an Alsacienne specialty equivalent to a pizza. He neglected to tell me that along with my trough of stinky cheese salad, this "pizza" was the size of a poster board. The cunt-wad female server snickered as she placed my All-You-Can-Eat, You Fat American Hog Special on my table. There was barely room.
This tarte flambee came with "creme" which I'm pretty sure is some type of jiz sauce, because it was VERY creamy. And everything in Strasbourg has to include some sort of pork product. EVERY damn "tarte" had lardons on them, which is minced little slivers of fatty bacon. With jiz and onions. By the time I tried to eat a few pieces of that, the dirty panties salad, and my cappuccino, let's just say no one in a ten kilometer radius would want to French kiss me, let alone give me directions back to my hotel.

So with headache and a finally full stomach (you would hope!!), I paid my bill to Monsieur Smart Ass and left because two French twats with black eyeliner a la' Amy Winehouse started chain smoking their unfiltered cigs right next to me. I used to be a smoker for about 5 years. It gives me a headache if I'm around it now. I can stand it for awhile but with a tummy full of fucked up French food, Momma needed to lie down. I walked around, holding my head because at this point I felt like a tumor was going to pop out of my eye socket, and tripped on the enchanting cobblestone roads. I'm sure I looked drunk, which was fine because my head hurt so much I started to cry. That's hot. Blonde, stumbling American with sensible lesbo sneakers and horrible breath. No wonder the French hate us. But for God's sake, how do these anorexic bitches stay skinny form eating all this pork AND manage to sprint down cobblestone roads in their stiletto fuck me boots? When I discover this international secret I will continue my post. Until then, au revoir!!!!!