I want to Brague

I want that job. I would dearly like to identify her but I promised anonymity to the beautiful wife of a BA captain whom we ran into at Cafe Des Arcades in Valbonne on Thursday lunchtime who was on her way to have her beautician, and  I quote  “work on my arse”.  I want that job. When I was unemployed in the early 1970’s they never had jobs on offer suggesting one could be being paid for manipulating beautiful girls arses, if there had been then I venture to suggest that I would have exclaimed “bottoms up” and made the best of it. I liked to have a hand in many things and…..I think I should stop there. There was a chap signed on the dole in Camden when I was growing up, he was a friend of mine and was registered as a ski instructor and do you know they never did find him a job. Not many ski resorts in North London. Pretty sure he could not ski either.

It was a last minute decision on Thursday to go  lunch having previously undertaken with that nice lady decorator to have two clear days without a drink bearing in mind the impending carnage of the weekend, which includes lunch with man mountain Peachy Butterfield on Sunday, but in the end, the sunshine weakened that resolve and we popped into Valbonne for a quick lunch, which became a slow lunch or rather a long lunch because of the bottoming out of the market. (Yes I am ashamed of that one as well). It may well be that I may have wasted my life in rock n roll or latterly in the pursuit of currency exchange excellence as Regional Coordinator (read Fat Controller) for Currencies Direct but no matter, the world of the beautician has passed me by.

Talking of  the beauty of the female form, I see on the Facebook page of Mr Humphreys (he was free) that at one stage during his youth he did possess a muscle car, an American Pontiac Firebird with a 5.7 litre engine. I was impressed until I saw the colour which had rather too much pink in it for me.

I hear a story about a blonde who called her husband in the office to say that the windows at home had frozen. He told her to put hot water on them. She called up 5 minutes later and said the computer doesn’t work at all now. Another story that evolved last night was some revelations about the Naked Politician in Las Vegas some time ago. It seems that he lived up to his name, removing his clothes to sprint around a casino before being thrown out. His excuse was that his leaderhousen was chafing. No one has yet provided a convincing explanation as to why he was wearing leaderhousen in a casino in Vegas.

My picture today was taken yesterday morning on my daily walk along the Brague, the river that runs through Valbonne down to Biot and then into the sea.

The Brague, there is a riverside walk from Valbonne to Biot

There are two events scheduled for La Pomme Rouge Deli next week, Premier Mardi the mainly girls networking group on April 3rd and the Riviera Business Club networking breakfast on Thursday 5th. I shall be attending both as things stand at the moment, although I concede there must be some doubt about an 8am start for RBC, however at present it is my firm intention to get up in the middle of the night to support this worthy venture.

Chris France