So, I am back in the Queen of Cities, Fes the Magnificent. I want to describe my day to you, and at the end compare it to some familar phrases. However, I try and not to use too much graphic imagery (i.e., the flight attendant story has gone as yet untold) and no curse words (aside from calling the concept of international currencies bullshit once.) So, anyway, I will describe my day, and then compare it to some colloquialisms, but with the dirty bits replace with [bland descriptions in brackets.]
So anyway, this morning I wake up in the zellij-covered bedroom of a house several hundred years old in the heart of the old medina. I futz on the internet for a while, then go out for a stroll. I run into Abdelaziz, the storekeeper, Rachid the tailor, and the other storekeeper I know. I chat with each of them for ten minutes apeice, or so, in Arabic, and keep going. I then purchase ten maqoodas, little blobs of mashed potatoe that have been covered in spicy batter and deep fried. On the way home, I pick up a kung fu movie for a dollar. I then sit and eat and watch. Later, I go to the couscous joint I like, and the proprietor charges me 30 dirhams instead of 45 because I am a regular and tells me not to tell anyone. I then meet up with a young lady of the highest caliber and have a digestif.
It’s been said that a pig is happiest when it is [in poopie.] It has also been said that a dog is happiest when it has [two reproductive organs]. If you are ever walking down the street and see a dog with two [reproductive organs], be aware that the comparison should be reversed. You should point to that dog and say “he’s happier than Aaron in Fes.” Likewise, if you happen to go to the farm, and see a pig relaxing, just hanging out in “[teh pooz]”, getting his relaxation on, you should point to that pig and say “he’s happier than Aaron in Fes.”
Because Aaron in Fes should be the new international yardstick for enjoying onesself.