Sunday, May 17, 2009

groin update and other stories

Last night I went on a bicycle ride. Usually this wouldn't be a big deal in the big scope of things, but last nights bicycle ride was the first I have taken, since the now famous' groin pull'. So I thought maybe it was time to take me and my hurting bits for a spin. I went where I always go, to the bois de Boulogne. Paris st. Germain were playing last night so I first had to navigate my way through very very very drunk football fans who for some reason took a dislike to me (maybe its because I yelled 'Chelsea' in response to whatever they screamed at me) Who knows. There were lots and lots of police everywhere, most of them on horses.I know this because the roads were covered with horse poop. I nearly skidded off into a few cafes on my way, which isn't how I usually enter a cafe. Once I got past the herds of hooligans the mood completely changed, I was suddenly confronted by very well dressed, half naked models in funny hats (a fashion shoot maybe? ) No, in fact it was a wedding and a very posh one at that. So I stopped and gawked .Nobody looked happy, everyone looked frozen to death, everyone was way underdressed. Well it was a wedding after all. I moved on, my groin till in tact. The bois is an amazing place, the scale is perfect for humans to get lost and found.The little walking/cycle tracks are beautiful and ideal for breathing in the fresh-ish air, looking at the rabbits and pheasant that roam freely and greeting the hookers! Oh yes the hookers. I have been cycling in the bois for about 2 years now , so the woman? in the bois and I are on bonjour/bonsoir terms.I always feel like a client window shopping, but I put on my best English schoolboy look (hard for a man my age) and whistle buy (ooops!!! I meant by).
I will write more about these poor souls another time, because there is so much to write about. I always think this would be a gift of a project for me, but I haven't quite got the grip of it yet (no pun intended). I cycled on. My groin at this piont was throbbing in perfect beat to an Annie Lennox song on my i-pod. I thought I would venture back home to warmth and safety and a bag of ice. On my return I saw 2 poeole doing very rude things to each other, Im not sure who was paying who. I didn't stop to look but thought maybe they should build a motel for this kind of thing, here in the bois. Not a bad idea. I would build it underground (so it would not destroy the beauty) and with a 100 rooms. One could rent it by the hour and it could be safe and warm for the ladies (?) and there friends to do what they usually do in the woods, up against a tree...just a thought.
I was glad for my little ride through the bois.I was glad because nothing says Paris more to me than a little cycle ride from my apartment, around the lake and back. So much to see and hear and smell. Its all free and almost painless.

Last night I went on a bicycle ride and Im glad I did. My groin on the other hand has a different story.

The wonderful photo above is of course by the amazing Brassaï.


Anonymous said...

My God that was funny as hell!

Glad you are feeling better...and your bits too.



Anonymous said...

Laughing out loud. I am doing a visualization to heal your groin. Let me know if it works. xx ellen


all healing bits and I thank you from the bottom of our (well you get the picture)

Anonymous said...

Ah, the woods, the ladies...
As long as I can remember, I was an avid mushroom hunter, educated in the cult of porcini aka king bolete aka "Boletus Edulis". It took me years to find amazing spots in Forêt de St Germain close to Paris. Halas, ladies from western countries settled on my very spot.I don't mind saying hello to them, show them my basket when they give me that black look. I know I only have to pass the first hundred yards littered with everything you can imagine (and more): food, underwear and all kind of vital fluids. I would not get blind either seing "things", my problem is men stop by and mistake me for one of them. Could it be because of my boots and my stick, do I really look like I am looking for "Phallus Impudicus"aka stinkhorn?
Come on, it is not edible!!


very are you one of them? just kidding

Anonymous said...

In France there is a crime labeled as
"proxenetisme hotelier", it could be translated as "bedroom pimping", providing a room for prostitution.
Unfortunatly, there is no way someone could imagine a spacious, nice hotel underground, even if it was honestly and kindly runned, with design bedrooms, fresh linen and sorts and catering to pimpless ladies...