Holy Hell. Pass the Cigarettes.

Fantine wasn't born yesterday. She's jaded in the way that most French people are, which has always struck me as the reason they smoke. The best way to look like you absolutely do not give a shit is to say something while rolling your eyes, blowing smoke and flicking ash all at the same time.

Fantine was born in Brest, in the Northwest of France. A rainy place, not unlike Seattle. Every summer her family would make the trek over to Mont St Michel. So boring. And then there was that one year they had the American exchange student. What was her name? Poor girl. Dressed like a virgin and liked her meats burnt to a crisp. Silly Americans.

Fantine quit smoking years ago but had to take it back up the other night when that thing was on tv. You know - the thing we shall not speak of again. Even jaded Fantine found herself utterly horrified.