Cock gets a kiss

Considering the vintage conditions, bright sunshine, masses of fresh snow and perfectly groomed pistes, the day did  not start well. That Nice Lady Decorator, who habitually wears sunglasses, often even in the gloom of an English winter, got to the top of the ski slopes and then could find them. A small domestic tantrum and it was decided that the only thing to do was to descend the mountain, go back to the chalet in Meribel and retrieve them. On the way down she stopped to adjust her hat and found them underneath her headwear. No comment was needed, but for one who is constantly berated for doing things wrong, forgetting details and generally being an idiot, I hope you will forgive the fact that I had a quiet and private smirk, private for very obvious reasons. One does not need a sense of humour failure so early in a holiday.

The most fantastic skiing had me, a fair weather skier, quite happy to venture out early and go high, even considering a black run at one stage just after a coffee and cognac stop, but in the end sense prevailed and we reached lunchtime with out further incident.

Lunch was taken at the vastly overpriced (even at Currencies Direct exchange rates)  but still decent Panoramic restaurant where I had an excellent rosti with reblechon. Mr Clipboard described it as a it like eating nag pole, a reference I think to the recent ridiculous furore about horse meat entering the food chain. If the burger eaters of Essex, who are all apparently up in arms about the very idea, had any idea of exactly which parts of the cow were being minced up for their working class delight, burger sales would plummet. nostrils, intestines, testicles, ears, in fact any part of a cow that is not chopped up for steaks and the like are routinely used for burgers, so to object to eating horse is laughable, the real issue is the deception in the meat supply industry. Should the culprits ever be brought before a judge I do hope their defence would revolve around horsing about. I also hope that they don’t flee the country, otherwise the police may be accused of shutting the stable door after the horse had bolted.

Over lunch of horse rosti, discussion turned to the Pope ans his recent decision to resign. I don’t know how the theme of the discussion turned to what he might have for breakfast but the best call was Eggs Benedict.

Public schoolboy has assignation with a cock

My picture today is of my public schoolboy friend Mr Clipboard kissing a cock. I suggested that it was just like being back at a school for him, where this kind of activity was seen as recreation when he was at Wellington, and took the opportunity to remind him of his part in the dreadful episode of bullying some 15 months earlier, when I had been held down by him and four of his public schoolboy compatriots and been subjected to a physical assault, having my luxuriant beard forcibly slashed to within an inch of its life. Whilst he has never denied his ring leading role in this assault, He refuted the charge of bullying on the basis that, had it been bullying I would have been tied naked on the roundabout outside the Auberge St Donat in Plascassier and be buggered repeatedly. No, he exclaimed, this was nothing like bullying, just a little horse-play. Oops, there I go again. In inappropriate horse gags. I must remember to be a little more precise in my subject matter being discussed one might say. Perhaps I should consider blinkers ?

Chris France
@Valbonne_News