At first I wondered why so many of you explainers in this TRG were behaving like rats in a shoe box, gnawing on each other and clawing and squealing and glaring at each other with your beady pink eyes. I assumed there wasn't anything wrong with any of you that some war couldn't sort out fairly quickly.
But having just spent a few weeks in America, I think I understand now. Even hunting and fishing the good, unspoiled country I couldn't escape a sense of dread and fear that wrapped around us all like a blanket.
Thankfully, I am in Madrid now. Look me up at the Cerveceria Alemania and I would be glad to buy you a beer. Even the least of you, of which there are many. On Monday I am back in Paris because there is never any end to Paris. The new Beaujolais is out, said to be especially delicious this year. I wish to walk along Rue Mouffetard with a bottle in the crook of my arm, on my way to meet a beautiful woman with rain-freshened skin and a smile only for me.
