Jean Reno hates when I head over to Paris.

We have a sort of gentlemen’s agreement that I let him know if I plan on Francing it up.

But, he’s now 65 and has not aged quite as well as me so I decided to ignore his warnings and visit his country. Sure enough, we have already run into each other and I have already taken a table at one of his favorite spots in town.

I think age has been much kinder to me, but you be the judge.

Seems like I now have a bounty on my head and will be off to Spain soon enough.