How can the B52 be called something else in France? “B cinquant-deux” indeed. I can put up with a San Francisco B52 being mixed and not having distinct layers of goodness in a shotglass. Mainly because you get about half a pint of mixed Baileys, Grand Marnier and Kahlua in a half pint glass in […]
The big difference this week was that Mike arrived to join our crusade against gravity and skiers. The conversation before Mike was typified by the phrases: “It’s cold out here.” “It’s warm in here.” “Why isn’t it warm in here?” “Guess what, it’s snowing.” “I can’t see anything.” After Mike had arrived, our repertoire of
Week four of snow boarding, the legend continues. Read More »
A man walks past murdering a cheap cigar. A waiter empties the airport cafe ashtrays of filthy dead Gitanes butts. The tannoy chimes and a woman`s voice announces in two languages that smoking is forbidden anywhere in the airport by law. I suppress the gag of a non smoker in a cloud of death, and
