It only started to really get to me when my mother called as I was on my way to work this morning and sounded genuinely heartbroken for me.
Further to this, some bollix decided to invade our home in the middle of the night the other day (I'm leaving Rosie to write all the descriptive stuff about our shared experiences these days, as she's so much better at it), leaving us both sleep-deprived and a little shaken. My system has yet to sort itself out and the primal rage that had me barking threats and obscenities at him like a rottweiler at a postman has yet to fully subside. A fat American nearly got me run over by a bus earlier and I didn't know whether to bellow at him or burst into tears.
Time for a holiday.
Fortunately, our renowned skills in assisting people with house and dog-sitting have brought us a free stay in this place, starting tomorrow. Not bad, I suppose. Still, the downside of it is that if i want to use the local municipal swimming pool I have to follow French law and abstain from sporting a nice comfortable pair of swimming shorts. Apparently I'd be refused entry in loose trunks but the bienvenues would be a-flowing were I to rock up in these bad boys. You gotta love them.
However, to fully achieve rehabilitation fully I reckon I may have to treat les femmes francaises to the sight of the semi-legendary Andrew gooch in these:
Mais oui.
Disclosure: Oddly bulbous crotchal region not blogger's own.
8 comment(s):
Aw, Andrew! It blows about the job. I had my fingers crossed for you too. If you and Rosie feel like coming to Canada for a month, you could housesit our house and cat while we sail off into the wide blue yonder of Lake Ontario.
Ah, bummer. I'm sure you're right about the job, it's a weird and fucky little system. I don't get it at all. I meant to send out cvs this year and I just ... didn't.
Gah.
Your holiday looks so nice though - and what a great thing to do just before you get married! Or is that for after?
Take that, beaut.ie.
Well, merde.
And also, sacre bleu.
Do they call them Speedeaux?
Shite about the job, it's the way of the world. But, never fear, something will come up that has your name on it.
you are in the ALPS? when Rosie said you were going away I thought she meant to KERRY or something.
Sorry about the job, Andrew.
Bit worried about what exactly you had to Google to find those trunks though...
Wow, two subscribers have ditched me in the wake of this post. People appear to be delicate when faced with the male groin.
Tessa - Thanks. If that's a serious offer then you may well find us taking you up on it sometime. We like cats.
Jo - Weird and fucky, indeed. That was just a brief holiday, we're back now and gearing up for the wedding. Or something.
Radge - I reckon they're terrified. Still, my readers don't drop an average of five exclamation marks into each comment they leave so I'm happy enough.
Catherine - I believe you forgot ooh la la and Mon Dieu.
Conan - I never got the chance to ask, but I'd like to think so. Something will come up, but Christ knows when.
Annie - Yup, The ALPS. They deserve the upper-case. But back in DUBLIN since Wednesday, so that's disappointing. On most holidays I'm normally glad enough to be coming home by the time it's over, but I was not a happy bunny leaving there at all.
Blazing - without wishing to give away too many trade secrets, I'd actually googled 'leopardskin posing pouches'. The site that came up first did not appear to have said item but, as you can see, offered bounteous other goodies.
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