Tonight, when in background noise, BHL talks about his latest book of correspondence with Houellebecq in Ruquier (sad!), While Dudu goes to bed, exhausted after delivered its first jet to his supervisor (sad), I feel nostalgic mood (sad!). I found myself laugh at some of the thoughts of members of an ancient brotherhood of a provincial town. Yes, I just province (sadly!). Regions. The noble parts of the lower but still smiling Picardy, where we, we know that the beet sugar can be (pronounced
chuc '). My native Picardy, dropped to 18 for "up (or rather down) in Paris." A provincial town, whose residents and natives will tell you that she nearly had an Olympic swimming pool, but it was missing 3 cm, the thickness of the tile once it is finished (it's sad!). It's pretty incredible fun enough that innocent may feel after reading these few memories of elders. "You know you just ... when ...
- you know the nickname is Popeye's bum exhibitionist 'who assaulted girls in the street Carnot!"
- the wood is Brulet not a forest that burned and that Grenouillière is not a sick frog or a 'Babygros ";
- that instead of the Jeu de Paume, we parked for free, even during the week ..." ;
- when you give always go to the fountain ";
- when you did sports on the athletic track built on the roof the supermarket, breathing all morning smells of bread chocolate "
- when you know your college plans were exchanged with those of a school in Madagascar, which is why it is very cold the Winter ";
- when you know that is not factory Spontex who is responsible for the stench that prevails, but the plant
Viskase specializing in the manufacture of sausage skin (
nothing to do ) ";
- when you've already been to see a game at the Stade Pierre Brisson"
- when you know who were Jeanne Hachette and Bellovaci "
- When you have old numbers
Day France still lurking around your house or your parents (the Paris-Match
Picard. My favorite is the one pictured, right after the one with Giscard in couv ' in 1974) ";
- when you're proud (e) from saying that intellectuals such as Jean Racine, Felix Faure and Stone (Stone & Charden) were students in the same city as you";
- when you'd almost have appréciser humor of John Roucas if he had been in the same city ";
- when you're proud (e) to say that it is the city that houses the center's tallest Gothic world ( after the Twin Towers ) ";
- when you can speak RN1 supermarkets, North and South ( while now, and it is sad Intermarché )";
- "when you milites for that in Paris, Lyon, Toulouse, too, there is also a street Pressoir Coquet "
-" when you know that Argentina is the name of a neighborhood, and not at all, one country ";
-" when you know that before May-book, there was another old-fashioned single book store with a wooden counter and employees in blue blouse ( that, it also means you have more than 32 years ).
In the end, it seems to me that I know I'm not Paris (and that, unlike
Marie-Paule Belle, it does not bother me). By cons and I am ashamed, because I think that's how we started to make us believe that nations existed. I am dumb almost falling into the trap.