Here’s a weird story.
We’d just come out of Notre Dame cathedral in Paris with the intention of going up the tower. You have to come out and go round the corner to do this. So we did, but as the queue snaked so far round the corner, we stopped almost at the end to watch a street artist. He was very funny, grabbing people at random, sneaking up on people from in front and doing weird things. It was great fun and we must have stood there watching him for about 45 minutes.
The queue then made a large movement so we decided we’d best get in it. As we took a place though, we were approached by a man who said no we could not get in the queue. He showed us a green leaflet which we should have if we were entitled to be in the queue. I got angry with him and told him that we’d waved him away when he approached us with them. We did not know they had anything to do with the queue, we thought he was selling something. The bastard wouldn’t have it and we had to leave the queue. As we walked back up past the office I called him down and he was joined by a colleague. I again told him he had been very unfair and I was very angry at him. He just didn’t seem to care. Twat.
I was arguing my case but then suddenly he said my English is not that good! Aye well my French is good enough to know that putain petit salaud is French for fucking little bastard 🙂
We were both quite angry as we’d stood for so long and an American woman came to ask what was the matter. We told her, but she only wanted to bash him for her own reasons, which I didn’t even pay attention to so I can’t remember what they were. I don’t have very much time for Americans on holiday, they’re one of the worst to chat to in my experience.
Anyway, we decided to head over to the south bank and maybe get something to eat. We did find an amazing kebab shop and I forgot all about the twat and the queue. So there we were walking along eating our kebabs and minding our own business, when we almost bump into a peacock. Yes, a real live green human peacock! Here, if you don’t believe me there’s a photo. ^^^
He was bloody loving it. Every inch of him screamed out so loudly how much he was loving it and it made him more attractive than he already was. He was getting loads of attention, partly because of the costume and partly because he exuded fun and excitement and enthusiasm from every pore. Here was a man sharing his soul with all who would look, dancing around people and stopping to chat and have his picture taken, then dancing off again, exuberant in his own little world. I loved him for his passion and his enthusiasm and his commitment and for his costume which was canny cool like.
As I took some pictures, more people came along. Then we saw a float in the distance. Then we spoke to someone and it turns out we’re right bang in the middle of the Paris Gay Pride carnival 2009 hahaha! How exciting!
We stayed the whole afternoon and evening and it was a truly excellent time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart Mr Twat Face in the queue, without your miserable pratting about we would not have experienced the carnival. Makes you wonder, does everything happen for a reason?
I took tons of photos at the carnival and fell head over heels with a transvestite who has to be the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life. Not much taken with his cock like but if I kept my head up I loved him!
Shame on the lesbians though who failed to put much of a show on in terms of costumes. The guys stole the show and it was definitely their day without doubt. Girls you need to try harder next year! After this though I need to reconsider whether I wanna try a bit of bum love!