So I went to the jazz club Au Duc Des Lombards last night as planned, and it was great, very relaxing, albeit stuffy down there (its a basement club).

Then I woke up this morning and took the RATP to the RER train (commuter rail) out of Paris to Versailles. I took a human guided tour of some of the building, and hung out in the gardens out back. To quote Dan Boersma, it was bea-frickin-utiful. I got lots of pictures, which are being developed right now as I type. I got 2 rolls of Paris, lots of things to see, hence lots of pictures.

I mean, I can see the need for 200 bathrooms in my chateau, but I think 230 bathrooms is just overkill. I was duly impressed with the fact that the billiard room was only 2 doors down from the king’s bedroom. A man after my own heart, you go Louie!

The tour was kinda funny because mostly all of the authentic stuff was burned after the French Revolution, so like 70% of the stuff is either a replica, a guess, or just something different. Like the King’s bedroom has no bed in it, because it was burned, and no drawing or anything exists to create a replica of it. There’s just like, a big room with no bed and 3 footstools in it. She’s like, this is the king’s bedroom, and I’m like, then where’s the bed? She looked at me very French-like and said, it was burned after the French Revolution. “Bummer”. Like, “hey, look at that barn!” “Is it red?” “Then it’s not a barn!”

Man, if anybody is still following these random thoughts after all of these e-mails, good for you. I wonder if 300 years from now someone will stumble onto these e-mails, and think that it must be code for something else, like the location of the Holy Grail. And then I’ll say something like, Oh Victor Henry's Bed, and they’ll spend hours trying to decode it.

I’ve gone off the deep end. I need to be around people who speak a language I understand.