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Wine colostomy

August 30, 2012

It’s all about perception. Peachy Butterfield was determined to extol the virtues of a very basic white wine, but he did his cause very little good as he decided to remove the bladder from its box as my picture today illustrates. This prompted an observation by the nice lady decorator that it looked like a colostomy bag. I am not sure about you, but at that moment I found my decision to avoid white wine to be totally vindicated. Red wine is the way forward, with its many health advantages, and that is certainly the route I expect to follow for a long healthy life continuing to help people avoid silly exchange rates and unnecessary bank charges whenever they have a need to trade currency. Currencies Direct is the other way forward.

Peachy shows off his version of a colostomy bag

Lunch was a fabulously long drawn out affair with conversation covering a myriad of topics. It may have been the relative difficulty of getting a drink, but I cannot remember exactly why we were talking about Ramadan and Dubai, or why that nice lady decorator so violently disagreed with what I was saying, in fact we had a row about it. Later I was able to describe it as a Ramadam a ding-dong.

Master Mariner Mundell was in attendance and full of malevolent jealousy aimed at my splendid new luxuriant moustache which has been carefully nurtured ever since l “lost” my lovely long, but it has to be said, slightly less attractive long pointed beard in a restaurant “accident” at the end of last year. For those that have not seen it, by way of quite accurate description, recently in Italy I was called D’Artagnan by a chap in a peage booth on the motorway which may give you some idea of how long it has become. Gel is now routinely required in order for the tips to be waxed to a point.   A little challenged in the follicle department in some areas, he seems pathologically opposed to anyone who is able to sport any kind of facial growth, or indeed growth anywhere except on ones chest, or perhaps it is me of whom he is jealous? Perhaps he would prefer not to have been sent to public school in Gourdonstone as a child preferring instead my worldly wise grammar school inspired real world education?  As the rose stocks became low he mumbled something about ensuring that the moustache had to be trimmed severely, at least on one side, leaving the other side untouched as he “did not want me to look stupid”. I need to be on my guard today when we join him aboard l’Exocet, his magnificent sailing boat, from a day trip out to lunch at St Tropez. I think I will hunt down and hide any scissors I find on board.

Last night then, a little jaded by lunch but spurred on that nice lady decorators brother, but bereft of the Master whom had set a different course, we headed into Valbonne Square where, as Cafe Des Arcades was full, we ate instead at the very good Terra Rossa on the eastern side. My lamb was excellent as were all the meals, especially the Terra Rossa seafood salad which was extremely well received. we shall be visiting again soon I hope.

St, St Tropez awaits but with little wind forecast and mill pond conditions promised, the concept of sailing anywhere may be fleeting. A drive down the beautiful coastline whilst sipping champagne on the poop deck, followed by lunch, looks favourite.

Chris France

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Rev. Jeff permalink
    August 30, 2012 1:43 pm

    Methinks you’re confusing colostomy bags with catheter bags. The white wine may taste like shi**!! but it’s not brown and lumpy!!


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