What I Really Need To Do Is Find Myself A Brand New Lover

Hi Kiddies! Ready for Part 2 of Starr's European Vacation? Part 1
below for the slackers. You must read it, as there are epic Journey and urination moments within.

We left off yesterday with a bus of happy campers with empty bladders and a song on our lips. That night we rolled on into Lucerne in the Land Of Swiss Miss, Lakes, and Chocolate. Oh and Rolex's.



I liked Switzerland. See that picture above? The row of buildings on the left is where we spent the days sampling the Swiss wears. That lake is also home to the local swans. The fuckers. I loved the chocolate and the cheese and the beer. I did *NOT* like the swans of said lakes that attacked me. Fucking water foul hate me. They just do. They came OUT OF THE WATER just to chase me. Do you know how hard it is to look dignified when being chased by swans?

So let's take a tally now of Starr's Embarrassing Moments In Front of Hot Florida Boy. We have the drunken falling UP the stairs and the screeching Monty Python "Run Away! Run Away!" moment. Choice. My pick line was obviously SO uber it negated all this. We are getting there, Grasshopper. You too shall have my mad skillz soon.

We spent only 1 night in Lucerne, after a day of shopping. The Hot Florida Boy and Rescuer of Drunken Jimbo had an epic shop day. Most of us bought chocolate. He bought a fucking Rolex Mariner and 3 rings for his womens back at home. See he was what you might call filthy stinking rich, mmk? So he is HOT. RICH. AND TRAPPED ON THE SAME BUS WITH ME.

What is the best way to spend One Night In Switzerland? Why with beer and cheese of course! We were all hooked by that point on a French beer called Kronenberg. To this day, that shit is my Holy Grail of beers. So a bunch of us, including poor Jimbo who STILL had a hangover and all of the Hot Florida Boys hung out in the suite M and L and myself shared. We had beer. We had a fondue pot. And we had a balcony. There must have been around 15 of us in that room that night. We built an empty beer can pyramid on our balcony that was over 6 foot high. Oh and the chocolate fondue. That stuff was used for illicit purposes by some very naughty teenagers. But not me, yo, cause I was pure as the driven snow. For now. Yes I know this sounds like a scene out of a Porky's movie. That is cause it was.

Next day on the bus, all of us were suffering post pyramid hangovers. Ouchies. This was rapidly cured by passing around cups of cold cheese fondue (no I am not making this shit up, who could?) and Everclear shots and Orange Juice. Breakfast of Champions. Everyone asks if we had bread when I get to this point in the story. Nope. And I saw that shudder.

My brain was still percolating about Hot Florida Boy. Or maybe it was the Everclear.

Whatever.

And oddly enough I got the feeling that his might just be percolating as well. Although I was having trouble believing that Mister Fucking Movie Star was actually interested in little old me. Seriously, he was not the typical cute boy. He was the 6'1", blond, green eyed, built like a surfer, hugely rich and owner of a totally adorable Southern accent. It was like something out of a John Hughs Movie and I got to be Molly Ringwald.



Let's get back on the bus and hit Francey France Land, shall we? Hans is still driving, Don Ho is still singing, and all of us are still drowning his ass out with A Capella versions of Faithfully and other songs. Including today's Post Title, from the unforgettable Dead Or Alive. And you thought You Spin Me Round (Like A Record) was their only hit. Phht.

That my friends is a rather explosive song to be singing while sitting across the aisle from A Hot Florida Boy. Mind you other than the drunken passed out in the hallway of a German hotel moment we had not really talked. Out loud. We were currently doing that teen aged, intense stare conversations. You know the kind. I'd stare at him, he'd catch me, I'd look down. Role reverse. Rinse and repeat. With the occasional smiles. Jesus, just thinking about it is exhausting.

We arrived in Paris around dinner time. This was to be our first experience with Mystery Meat. We went to some seedy ass place with suspiciously low light. Not sure if it was horse or cat. Looked like chicken. Tasted like ass.

Now let me take a moment to toss out a disclaimer. Our experiences with the French *in the context of our tour planned hotels and restaurants* totally was in keeping with the snotty French stereotype. Then again, the behaviors exhibited by our group were totally in keeping with the Ugly American. C'est La Vie.

The hotel was cool. One of the nicer ones actually. Well to look at. The beds were a mess, the staff hated us, and they were not all that interested in making our stay a pleasant one.

I spent the 4th of July on top of the Eiffel Tower watching Fire Works. That puppy sways, by the way. You can totally feel it moving. Very disconcerting. I went to small cafes and ate REAL French food, I visit the room where Oscar Wilde died and he was right about the wallpaper.



I had Absinthe in a really live Absinthe Bar in the Moulin Rouge district. Hands down one of the best days of my life. Speaking of The Moulin we went to a show there as well. It was a blast. Would have been better if Ewan McGregor was there but hey, ya can't win them all.



The Mona Lisa is pretty frickin small. Really I was totally expecting the size of the painting to be so much bigger. The Louvre was amazing. We got one day and that was totally not enough. Kids outside were selling these mechanical flying pigeons. The real pigeons were not amused.



We rolled on out of France after 3 days. There was, as usual, departing drama. Remember The Hot Florida Boys Amsterdam Heineken Umbrella heist? Well they topped themselves. First off, never ever insult a Southerner. They have better manners than you and they know it. Sit down and shut up my fellow Yankees. They just kick our ass. So our oily innkeeper did something to annoy the Florida contingent. Their response? Dismantle the gigantic wardrobes from about 3 rooms and completely load up the elevator. It was a geometric masterpiece.

And then there was the wee matter of the little "entertainment club" next door to our hotel. Roughly translated from French you could choose your girl and choose your animal. Now this had me totally intrigued. We are not talking your garden variety animals either here, people. Yeah yeah dog and cat and the obligatory horse, but it was the turtle...TURTLE...that got my attention. Inter-species Erotica For The Win! But then...

Stupid Southern Well Mannered "My Mama Would Never Forgive Me" Hot Florida Boys wouldn't let me go in! Mind you THEIR asses went in but I was not allowed cause I was a "lady." And seeing that there were 5 of them and not single bloody one of them was under 6 Foot I was more screwed than the turtle =(

Grr.

I leave you now to ponder quelle est femme and turtles and I give you Dead Or Alive and what I think makes a damn great life moto.

And I just realized I didn't cop the pick up line today. How very Stephenie Meyer Cock Blocky of me!