The Phrench

Despite this Joo's rather intimate association with the Phrench, they never cease to amaze me. Although prior to the present visit, I vaguely recalled that the Phrench enjoy a scented toilet paper, I had forgotten this little factoid. The dirty foreigner and his family seemed to have risen above the hint of "lack of indoor plumbing"ness of that particular affinity, and appeared to choose only plain, unscented (albeit always pink) toilet paper. Until now.

Who knew. Who knew that anyone, and I mean anyone, would ever want their ladybits (or gentbits as the case may be) to smell like a peach candle? Hmm? And when this Joo went out on the interwebs to find illustrations for this particular entry, she found that toilet paper in France is available in a dizzying array of disgusting scents, including without limitation mandarin orange, strawberry, lilac, ad nauseum. And, for those who "want to give themselves a little inspiration" (which must be French for "when you want to rub one out in the bathroom"), French toilet paper is also available imprinted with illustrations from the (I am not making this up) Kama Sutra. Because buying separate porn is such a hassle.

So, cheers to the French. And happy belated birthday to Good Joo. This Joo will be back from la la Francy in a week or so to shower her with gifts. In the meantime, gypsies, tramps, and thieves, my house is attended, so don't even think about it.

Love,

Bad Joo