Where have you been?

So there is a problem right now with Blogger and I am unable to upload photographs tonight. Hopefully things will be sorted out tomorrow or Sunday so I can post the last of the sailing pictures. In absence of photographs I would like to introduce a new feature that will occasionally appear on the OC_Photography - Ruben's Rants. These will be posts were I basically put in my two cents. I had thought of other, more clever, names like "Views from the Edge" or maybe "How it looks from here" and these might work better if I was just going to post opinions, observations, or whatver. But I basically just want to bitch so "Ruben's Rants" works best.

And I have to apologize for being guilty of a bit of plagiarism. But, Brooker, if you publish any "Brooker's Rants" in the Cambridge Department of Chemistry news, then i will gladly change the name here on my blog.

Now, without further ado, the very first Ruben's Rants:

"Do I look French?"

After having dated my girlfriend for about three months she confessed that she initially thought I was French. If I was actually French there would have been no problem. But I am American, not French, and lets be honest, no one really likes the French. Brits call them Frenchies, Poles call them frog eaters (zabojad), and Americas call them yellow bellied surrender monkeys. Naturally I was a bit annoyed with the mistake but she said it was because the British guy who worked at the sandwich shop said I looked French. Dick. Anyway, I bring this up because yesterday I was riding the elevator with some Polish girl who tried to talk to me. I told her I didn't speak Polish and thought that was the end of it. But, once in the lobby, she ask if I was French. WTF*? Why do people think I am French? I asked my girlfriend if I looked French and she said my hair was sort of French. My hair? What, is it greasy and smelly? Maybe it is time for a wash but really, French? Now don't get me wrong. I have known many great (and clean) French people. Hell, Nicolas Sarkozy is doing a great job as President (stupid unions). Just don't call me French, thats all.

Notes:
* WTF = What the fuck