I have a hard time telling stories sometimes because I get anxiety about "cutting to the chase." You might think that's weird, but I lay a lot of the blame at the feet of minor ADD. My conversations, text messages, email exchanges and the like often take rather bizarre twists and turns and it's hard for me to deliver the punchline without the context of what built up to it. Sort of like...
"I was talking to my Friend With Great Hair the other day and we decided that she should have an Angry Vagina Party. I suggested stapling bread to a shirt and going as a yeast infection," I would say.
"Uh. Angry Vagina Party? TAB, are you on medication?"
So now I have to go back and EXPLAIN that the reason for wanting to throw an Angry Vagina Party is because Friend With Great Hair wrote a short play about a woman whose vagina has a separate personality and divulges all of the protagonist's sexual secrets. It's quite hilarious and will probably win a Tony when they make it into a musical. You see the genesis of wearing a bread-blouse to a party, right? Good. Also, I'm not on medication, in case you were wondering.
Anyway, I had to tell you that story to explain the birth of French Godzilla. Yesterday, I was in the midst of a text conversation with someone, and the conversation turned to the French. I get the feeling he's a bit anti-French, but I tend to love them for their snottiness and artistic flair and for giving me crepes and lingerie and cafe au lait and la tour Eiffel avec toutes les belles lumières! Although, I said to him, I can do without the surrendering and the existentialism. J.P. Sartre, you really chap my ass. He added, "...and the nuclear testing."
Huh.
Regardless of the fact that France only has like 200-something atmospheric and underground nuclear tests and the US has racked up well over 1,000, I agreed with him. Helloooo, French people, have you BEEN to French Polynesia? What is *wrong* with you that you want to perform underwater tests RIGHT THERE in paradise? Ohh la la, mon dieu. Quel dommage!
But in a jovial sort of manner, I told him it would only be a few years before French Polynesian Godzilla emerged, so it couldn't be all that bad anyway... mainly because I'm going to tame that mofo, saddle him up and ride off into the sunset. Probably to set up on some French Polynesian island where I will then rule as Queen TAB, sci-fi cowgirl and ruler of sea mutants. French Godzilla will enforce the laws of my land and bring me crepes and wine.
I told MEH about my plan and he was on board, too. You guys are totally invited.
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