But wait'll you get her out on the open sea.
Actually, I truly must say that this picture does nothing in the way of justice for this ship. Really, it's the enormous cranes that are taking away from the true size of the vessel. And by cranes I mean MY cranes. . . and by MY cranes I mean just one out of the three of them. . . and yes, it happens to be the closest one in the frame that didn't do a lick of work the day I took this picture. My crane is just like me!
So this is the Sobrena shipyard in Brest (though it's actually in a smaller sub-section/town/district/whatever called Le Havre). A moment ago I started a sentence about the shipyard and it's properties that would have put a rabid Bugbladder Beast of Traal quite well to sleep, but I erased it and wrote what you just read instead. Now I rhyme, I hope you've the time.
It's 2343 hours here which means it's like 2am, three days from now in Mongolia. I would go to sleep but I'm waiting for a toolbox to arrive from Paris. Paris is not close. The toolbox is coming in a taxi. . . from Paris. Paris is not close. If I can get the information past corporate security I'll let you all know tomorrow what the flippin' taxi bill comes to. Paris is not close.
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