tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7180643554431165032.post-11387145015354727892008-01-04T14:02:00.000-05:002008-01-04T14:22:39.232-05:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_kSVUzLl_qDQ/R36EY9EwPgI/AAAAAAAAAIU/BJAIV1xI5EM/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_kSVUzLl_qDQ/R36EY9EwPgI/AAAAAAAAAIU/BJAIV1xI5EM/s400/Picture+1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151700588004654594" /></a><br /><br /><br />Well, now that I read <a href="http://www.slate.com/id/2180456/nav/tap3/">this article</a> from Slate Magazine that Ben sent me, I have to add on to the saying:<br /><br />"Love French Wine. Hate French politics"<br /><br />It's now: <br /><br />"Love French Wine. Hate French politics. Laugh because we have better sommeliers."<br /><br />Booyahhhh Jacques Chirac! Seriously, if you need good service USA-style and want to sip on some delicious West Coast Pinot, come on over. You can stay at my cousin Terry's house. He's got a sweet above ground pool and a fridge full of corn dogs.John Millsjohngrahammills@yahoo.com