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Nude model shock

August 9, 2011

For a few short minutes, I thought I had managed to get myself invited to a girls Friday night drinks club up at Chateauneuf, but Carol, the organiser asked the deadly question; am I a boy or a girl. Having the name Chris can be nicely androgynous at times, but I have been found out, so o girls party for me.

Monday is traditionally hangover day and yesterday was no exception. The best antidote if one cannot face a bloody Mary or a greasy breakfast, is a swift walk along The Brague, made stiffer by that nice lady decorator being determined to explore a deep gorge hitherto unknown to man, well certainly this man, from where, severely lacerated by brambles, I took this picture.

The Brague, but the other side of the stream. John O Sullivan will know of this concept

But back to Sunday. After John O Sullivan’s revelations of his apparent attraction to the gay community, and his graphic practical examples illustrating why he had come to that conclusion, I am happy to be able to report on a more heterosexual theme, involving myself.

It was to the surprise of everyone except myself that I have been cultivated to be a nude male model. Also present at Roly and Lesley’s barbecue was Marina Kulik, whom I had not met before but runs painting courses, teaching people how to paint, from that weird little building behind the Vignale tennis club. If you have ever seen the wooden aeroplane which has been built outside you will know where I mean. I have always known that I have the body of a god, although that nice lady decorator complains that the god is Buddha, but a few manly curves in the right places is usually enough to send most pulses racing. However, praise of this nature was tempered by her comments on what was expected. Apparently, the more wrinkly and the less well-formed the body, the more interesting it is to paint, so her fulsome encouragement that I would make an excellent subject was a double-edged sword, a metaphorical slap in the face. Now talking of swords, I had to warn her that certain of my physical attributes are out of scale with the rest of my body, but she said it didn’t matter how small it was, it would still be interesting study for her painting class. I don’t think she quite understood what I meant.

Her consort, the impossibly handsome rock n roll estate agent Jeroen Zatt (he ever has a rock n roll name) head honcho of Riviera Home Finders was also there, complaining bitterly that I never invite him to La Kavanou, the wine bar in Valbonne. He is wrong, I always invite him, but on nights when I am not going to be there. Of course I am joking, and yes I promise to call the next time I will be there.

Today, despite avoiding calls from one Rupert Scott all morning, he finally caught me and I am now committed to play golf and have lunch at Chateau Begude tomorrow. Joining us, although almost certainly late, will be the wingco, and also I have been informed, by that nice lady decorator. She was not invited you see, but took it upon herself to extend herself an invitation, which she accepted without recourse to us chaps.

This will almost certainly end in tears and recriminations, and I  shall be blamed for all of that and more. Before all that kicks off, I shall just make small mention of Currencies Direct and their wonderful services, but not too much mention, just enough to be effective.

Chris France

4 Comments leave one →
  1. August 9, 2011 5:14 pm

    Wonderful piece Chris – had a good laugh – and am happy & proud that I triggered your cultural interest! keep up the good work, I’ll share & link to this blog maybe you should link to my website – so all my rich clients can read about this currency direct guy who is modeling in the nude in his spare time!! will work wonders for your business I’m sure 🙂

    Like

  2. Cathie Van Der Stel permalink
    August 10, 2011 5:51 pm

    Who is Carol?
    A pseudonym to protect the innocent against a barrage of Friday night gatecrashers?
    Should I decide to seek out the expert services of Currency Direct, could I be confident that even without a name tag, my money wouldn’t end up in the account of somebody called Carol?

    Like

    • August 10, 2011 8:57 pm

      Oops! Sorry Cathie, my only excuse is a poor one, I am still suffering from the effects of drink!

      Like

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