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It looks like Michigan in the 50s. Except for the occasional odd house.
Is it in Brittany?*dog piles [+Aber Wrac'h]*Grandma told me people in South Wales speak a language the same as the people in North Western France confirming a strong connection between the two places.
Sorry. Just now looked at the pictures.
That lox on toast with salad is the perfect meal. That does it. I know exactly where I'm going for lunch.
Chip, you got it. I love Brittany. It's part of France, but so unFrench because of their celtic roots. St. Briac/Brieuc is my fave, but onto Nina's pics.This is awesome. Has a strange Warholian quality to it, which makes the typical Breton (short, low-foreheads, stocky) seem somewhat psychotropic.Cheers,Victoria
OK, do you know what this proves to me? I must hasten to France. Sometimes, I swear, Americans just don't get it. Possibly they do in NY or a few other isolated places, but if I ever get another salad prepared in advance with a pile of shredded carrot plunked on top, I swear, I swear it, I'm going to toss it across the room like a Frisby™. Compare this plate with the one shown at the link. What's so hard about putting together an attractive salad. Jesus H. Christ, do I have to go there and show them how to do it?*displays the Cub Scout two-finger sweary sign*From here on, I shall make my own salads and pretend I'm in France. Table next to me. The waiter dropped the tray containing the bulk of their orders. In school we would have burst into applause. The woman liked me, but the gentleman growled like an animal and rebuffed my inquiries, then led the group in grace. Bastard. Fat-ass bastard.I was startled to see the capitol with its gold dome just sticking right up in the middle of the street on my way home. I know it's in my neighborhood but didn't realize that street aimed straight at it.
It sounds more like the made up names people give places in fantasy and science fiction books: "Aber Wrac'h was legendary both for it's beer and for it's scoundrels. The flotsam of the sea met its human counterpart in the hardscrabble villages dotting the coast. It was here that B'nar Crec'cih washed ashore, and here his tale begins."
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