RANT: Say oy, not oui!

So, "French Women Don't Get Fat" is the latest literary sensation. It seems that post "Supersize Me" angst, coupled with the American inferiority complex that the Europeans in general, especially the French, are more sophisticated, has caused poor, portly plebians to rush out in droves to get this book. Oh, the French, they are tres sophisticated! They carry baguettes in grocery bags! They know how to wear stripes with a beret! They can tie a scarf into so many incarnations! To top it off, this book provides the priceless advice that eating big meals instead of unhealthy snacks, and taking the stairs instead of the oh-so-lazy escalator, is the way to happiness. Ooh la la, swoon!

To this we say: OY!!! Wake up, America! We hope to G-d above that most normal citizens wake up and stop buying this junk. Let the French women have their Pan Au Chocolat. They neglect to mention that in between bites of croissant with butter (how they gloat!), they are looking the other way while their cowardly Gallic husbands have affairs with girls half their age. Nothing is worse than Le Divorce! Also, the author never mentions that their country is in danger of being overrun by Al Quaeda cells (who they just love for their politics!). Maybe they're skinny from stress. France hasn't looked this good since they welcomed the Nazis through the Arc de Triomphe.

For these reasons, we doubt that Jews have gotten sucked into this idiotic piece of fluff. We've learned the Talmud for far too long to be hoodwinked. Anyway, as I said earlier, Jews like food far too much to ever stop snarfing their knaidlech in favor of looking like a sinewy madam. To sum up: Forget Paris, we have the pizza shop.