I once saw a T-shirt that said, “no-one gives a shit about your blog.” It made me chuckle. Let’s face it, anyone with a keyboard and an opinion can start one of these things. The guy that just delivered your pizza may have a blog. The lady who got in the 10 items or less queue yesterday with clearly more than that may have a blog. Justin Beiber’s love child may one day have a blog. So why not chronicle the exuberant highs and devastating lows of life in Paris?
I live in the notorious labyrinth of le Gai Marais, the postcard-perfect 3rd. I could write about designer boutiques, hole-in-the-wall bars, handsome men in tight jeans or the lunatic that rides around on a bicycle pretending to be a goat. He’s something else. Or I could just post pictures of camembert. Don’t pretend you won’t try and eat them.