As my Mom usta say, "We've got 'em right here in the family."
An excerpt...
I've never told this to anyone before, but my wife has French blood. She's lived in the U.S. since she was eight, so she's recovering. But her sister, Françoise, who went to the Sorbonne and married her professor of Pre-Deconstructionist Literary Criticism, is not expected to survive. Especially not if my neighbors in Quaintford, New Hampshire, get their hands on her."
{Gotta admit my man PJ figured out how to deal with his guests}
"We had three more weeks of entertaining La France. The fall foliage was declared to be "of uncertain taste." My wife's SUV "has the responsibility for the martyr-bombings of the Palestinian people." I arranged for Françoise and her husband to employ energy-conserving mass transportation for their return trip to the Boston airport, by Greyhound with six bus transfers between Quaintford and Logan."
P. J. O'Rourke deals with the F problem