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From the journal of Antoine Lagace:
Sara, Lisa, Kayla and Fiona. I love every single one of those ladies. And yes, by love I mean I squeezed one off for each of them, and often in sets of two or three…
Let’s start with Sara, since she’s the oldest and according to science doesn’t have that much time left before she goes from delicious to dietary supplement. I think she’s into Baptiste, actually, so she must think she’s already too old and saggy to do any better.
But she’s probably the prettiest one, with white, white and white skin, creamy brown hair and light blue eyes, and just the right amount of late twenties plump. She’s also the kindest and I’ll bet the smartest, not just because she sees through most of my bullshit.
Legend has it she was married once. It wasn’t that the guy died in the fires, he just left her because he found some chick with bigger boobs. That’s the kind of stunt you pull when you’re dating maybe, but you ought to have your act together by the time you sign up to be someone’s husband. I’d never pull that kind of crap on anyone.
Ant’s secret is: never get married.
But Sara, as smart as she is, she’s still hoping to get married again someday. I can smell it on her, that commitment stench.
She might settle for Baptiste if his gimpy heart doesn’t explode like a fucking briefcase nuke. Or maybe one day she’ll realize that she could steal Graham and his douchey yellow beard away from Lisa if she would just put a little effort in.
You see, I happen to know that ‘Muricans love French girls. All the things that piss me off about the crazy bitches I used to date are somehow alluring to hipster idiots from Illinois.
Sara’s not that bad, really, for a French girl. I wouldn’t say she’s not a little high-strung and little bit self-absorbed, but she’s better than most of the women I’ve known. And I’ll bet she treats a man right. And unlike Lisa I doubt she’s the type to shoot you in the face for checking out another girl’s assets.
I’m not sure who Sara will end up with in the end. But for now I’d be more than willing to give her a slice of my boudin blanc.