Shit Holidays Newsletter #6
Paris
Welcome back to the official Shit Holidays newsletter. This week we take a shit holiday in Paris, plus share some reader feedback about our London review.
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Paris
Synonymous with overrated tourist destinations, Paris is a busy and diverse city, offering something for everyone to hate. With old buildings in lieu of skyscrapers, statues of dead dudes cluttering up the place and throngs of bescarved bastards on bicycles, Paris is much like every other European city but with the added possibility of getting mugged or blown up. Visitors can explore the city by trudging over endless cobbles coated with various species’ faeces, or take the urine-soaked metro and be serenaded by a one-armed busker playing half an accordion.
Paris is known as Europe’s capital of culture - unfortunately, most of the ‘culture’ is growing on the genitalia of its sexually insatiable residents. Fittingly, sex pest-infested Paris rhymes with 'embarrass' and 'Rolf Harris'. The pretentious French, however, insist on pretending not to see the S at the end, as they also tend to do with the letter T, dog shit on the street, and homeless people.
Paris' premier attraction is the Eiffel Tower, a big rusty pylon that France built to commemorate the 1889 World’s Fair, then, in typical French laissez-faire fashion, couldn't be arsed taking down. It now serves as a convenient meeting point for Paris’ many pickpockets to prey on unsuspecting tourists. If you're lucky, random people may kiss you in front of the Eiffel Tower, offering the chance to catch facial herpes while you are losing your wallet.
Another popular attraction is the Louvre, home to the Mona Lisa and other famous works of art by members of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. The museum also houses the Venus de Milo, a statue of the world’s most beautiful double amputee. Also popular with culture aficionados and sex tourists alike is the Moulin Rouge, a famous strip club named after an awful Baz Luhrmann movie based on the absurd premise that people actually want to fuck Nicole Kidman.
One of Paris’ most iconic landmarks is the historic Arc de Triomphe, which local authorities recognised by surrounding it with one of the city’s busiest roundabouts. The only way to access the ornate arch without being run over by a car the size of a lawnmower is by creeping through a shady subterranean tunnel that’s full of scammers and pickpockets and stinks of stale piss.
Paris: where snobbery is passed off as culture, garden slugs are passed off as a delicacy and gonorrhoea is passed off as romance.
Paris Facts
Population: 2.1 million (mostly wankers).
Founded: 52 B.C.
Currency: Euro, sense of smug self-satisfaction.
Language: French, condescending sneers.
Demonym: Parisite.
Also known as: Gay Paree, Embaris, The City of Unprotected Love.
As seen in: Last Tango in Paris, in which a portly Marlon Brando famously takes part in the local tradition of using dairy products as an impromptu anal lubricant.
Most famous resident: The Hunchback of Notre Dame, a humble bellringer unfairly slandered by ableist Parisians.
Did you know? Paris is so underwhelming that there is an actual psychiatric condition called Paris syndrome, a sense of hysterical disappointment experienced by many visitors to the city. The Japanese embassy runs a 24-hour helpline for expats experiencing the syndrome.
Top 10 Things to Do in Paris
Set fire to a historic cathedral
Get entombed in the catacombs
Die of boredom waiting in a queue to enter the Louvre
Pay a wanker in a beret to paint an unflattering caricature of you
Surrender to an invading force without a shot fired
Protest the rigours of a 30-hour work week
Enjoy local delicacies such as snails, frog’s legs and horse meat
Put a padlock on the Pont des Arts with your initials and the initials of your soon-to-be ex-wife
Get caught jacking off to The Thinker at the Rodin Museum
Crash your Mercedes in a tunnel
Fan Mail: London
Fan mail as usual written by people who don't get satire. Hardly worth reading today
Having been to Paris albeit a long time ago I laughed my arse off at the fact laced nuggets (Not the pavement variety) that you based the satire on.
Probably worth an addendum on Pigalle itself where Moulin Rouge and the crusty crumpets of the red light district loosely congregate along with pavement artists, Buskers and fuckin Mimes.
The best value for money however was an old bloke who would for a handful of Francs pick up one of the plentiful dog turds and eat it...... I looked for the trick and deception in his "Art" and couldnt see it and sadly by the time it was my turn to pay there wasnt anything fresh left in the range of Barkers eggs.
Having been sneered at by Waiters and Gendarmes for a few days I hopped the ferry to Pomgolia vowing to never return.