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About Montpellier

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this touchy-feely crap like sexual-massage. Some gal rubbin’ ya down with oils, promisin’ relaxation? Bullcrap. I’d rather wrestle a bear. But fine, I’ll talk about it, since you’re beggin’. Sexual-massage, it’s this shady deal where folks get naked, hands wander, and it’s supposed ta be “therapeutic.” Therapeutic my ass—sounds like a hippie scam. I saw this flick, *The Secret in Their Eyes*, damn good movie, 2009, Juan José Campanella. That line, “How do you live a life full of nothing?”—hits ya hard. Makes me think sexual-massage is for suckers chasin’ somethin’ empty.

Compound Your Joy

These amazing candid photographs of prostitutes were taken by Maurice Zalewski in the Saint-Denis District in

Anyway, I grabbed some strawberries and a baguette. Can’t go wrong with that, right? But then, I saw this cute little café on Rue des Écoles. I had to stop. I mean, who can resist a café crème? Not me! So, I plopped down, ready to enjoy my moment. But then, the barista messed up my order. I asked for no sugar, and he gave me a sweet bomb! I was like, “Dude, I’m not trying to get diabetes here!”

The Year 3 class of '90 reunites