An article crosses the desk seemingly pointed right at me. The writer laments breakfast in Paris, whining the French don't offer a humongous American wake up call of eggs, bacon, sausage or potatoes. Never one to turn down bacon, I still bristle and scream out, "Blasphemer." The idea that a freshly baked baguette heaped in… Continue reading Breakfast In Paris…
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The Duchess Diaries 