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A while back I remembered a friend of mine was writing a French essay, describing the life of a 10 Euro note. I remembered I posted this up on her facebook.

My name is a Euro. 10 Euro.

I've spent of my life in the pocket of my mistress, Isobelle White. How come hasn't she notice me? I don't know. I guess she forgot about me, which does not really bother me, until one certain day.

Her hand enter the pocket and was rumaging, stumbling about until she found me. I soon found myself being crushed into her skin, thrusted out from my comfort zone, and into the bright blind light. At this point, I heard a big bellow - OOOOO I FOUND 10 EUROS!. I guess she didn't really forgot about me at all. ...

It all happened so fast. Ever since I was pulled out of my true home, I was past on from one human to another. The first was to a man wearing a green apron saying "Starbucks" on it. The second was to another man, who shoved me down into his sweating, and weird smelling pocket. The third was to someone who smelt of beer. And finally, the last was to someone who rolled me up and stuck me up their nose. I don't know why they want to do that to a note, but I guess they have problems sniffing from the toilet seat.

Strange, my mother never told me that humans can use money notes like that.....

Of course this story is not in french, but I wouldn't mind having someone translating this!

Whose up for it?! Any French uni students in da hoouse?! :P

In other news, I'm in need of some slap.



I'd like to, but I have funding coming out of my ears. :(
You like to what? Give me a slap? Or translating this? :P

April 2010

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