The shop assistant (or the owner, cause as far as I know he is here from 6:00 am to 12:00 am) looks up at me and obviously expects an answer. An Arabic language newspaper opened on the counter and no sign of him reaching for my cigarettes tells me I’m in for a philosophical moment.

So, we (want) need immigrants. Preferably (young) not to old, (who won’t need any social help) educated, and (white) who will blend in easily. Oh, and (no terrorists) (preferably Catholic ) — no really, we don’t mind.

Not only I betrayed France by crossing the Atlantic Ocean, but apparently I also betrayed French language. Oh, that’s great.

Rock’n'roll stars, rap artists, rednecks, tycoons, politicians, lobbyists, aliens… North America has it all. But there’s one category that have never traveled across the ocean from its beloved old continent : the nobility.

Leaving France was not an obligation but just an option. A very tempting one, mind you. The world might be watching us eat, smoke and have sex with a disdainful smile, yet it casts envious eyes. But we know the other side of the story : no jobs, almost impossible to rent a place to live, a country stuck in the days of its glory.