Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Séb Who?

Last night I scoured the intertubes for new SébChab pix and videos for only two hours, so I am definitely weaning myself off him and I feel I’m on the road to recovery.

Today I took an exorbitantly good picnic (and warm sweaters) and my children into the forest. We walked and climbed for hours to get to our new favourite climbing rocks and scenic lookout point. My imaginary friend Séb was with us, and he was all "Wow Antipo, your ham, tomato, avocado, lettuce, mayonnaise, pink Himalayan rock salt and Australian lemon pepper sandwiches on fresh granary bread are really freakin' tasty!" and I was all "Oh thank you Séb darling, you know, cooking wonderful food is just a little hobby of mine. Now let me peel you a firm, but juicy, and sweet Comice pear and drop each slice sensuously into your mouth as you recline on this springy bed of fern branches I just happened to prepare earlier" and he was all "MMMMMMMMmmmmmm" and grateful and flashing his dark, expressive eyes at me...



I did a horrible, bitchy thing, so I'm a bit ashamed - but wait till you hear how funny it was. My son was getting on my wick with some whingey, babyish behaviour, and at one point he lay down across the hiking trail (along which the odd cyclist and horse rider sometimes pass). I told him to get up off the cold ground. He didn't, so my daughter and I kept walking. Fifty metres away, I turned and he was still lying there, so I screamed "Oh my God, get up quick! There's a wild boar hurtling towards you! You're going to be trampled! Hurrreeeeeeeeeeeee!"

Nasty, I know, but fuck! you should have seen how fast he leapt into the air in sheer terror and sprinted towards me like an Olympic champion, screaming and crying all the way. Jaysus, I know it was a horrible thing to do, but I laughed myself sick. I'm nastily chuckling to myself again as I type this. But as The Lovely Lettuce once memorably said, ‘What's the point in having children if you can't have a good laugh at their expense every now and then?’ It's almost worth the pain of labour, episiotomies and breast feeding.

Afterwards, walking home in the cold, the children and I (and Séb of course) broke into a jog through the forest to warm up,



so I'm feeling really great: all fresh aired and exercised. The hot bath I lay in for an hour this evening will hopefully prevent my poor thigh muscles from seizing up tomorrow. All in all, ‘twas an excellent day!

Friday, October 26, 2007

It's All Over

My relationship with Sébastien Chabal is going through a rocky patch. All week I had been looking forward to our Thursday night date. He was scheduled to appear on an inane French chat show called La Méthode Cauet and I was bursting with anticipation and frissons!

Last night I stationed myself on the sofa, all cleavage, shiny hair and lip gloss, and waited with pounding heart for Him to appear.

I endured the crappest chat show ever, while battling the drowsy-making effects of a Fervex for my runny nose... but Chabalou stood me up! He simply never appeared. No explanation or excuse was given, and I sat through the whole damn thing, until 1 am, dozing through the appearances of only mildly interesting celebrities, all the while thinking he would surely be next on. Nope.

What a waste of good sleeping time!

To console myself I may take a stroll up to the village bookshop at lunchtime to see if I can buy a copy of a just-released biography. He's only 29 years old, so it'll be a slim volume!

If they don't have it, Séb and I are over, I'm afraid. He'll just have to get along without me in his life.

I am Woman. Hear me roar!

Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Sits Vacant: Smokey-Voiced Female Required

No naughtiness from me today (have you seen the weather? It’s bollock-monkey-brass-cold today!). But I do have a public service announcement.

My French documentary film-making friends are looking for a gravelly-voiced female, not too young, to do a voiceover in English for a short film. They particularly want the voice of a woman who has lived, not wisely but well - perhaps too well! Distance is no object, as the recording could possibly be made by telephone.

I am just a bit miffed that they don’t consider my voice sexy enough, but am gracious enough to extend the invitation to all my bloggie friends. Of course my thoughts immediately turned to the spine-tingling tones of The Lovely Ms. Mac, but she’s been keeping a low profile lately, as the paparazzi are rabidly tracking her every move and frankly darlings, it’s soo wearying.

If you are interested, or know a friend of a friend who might be interested, please e-mail me at antipoyouaresosexy whoops! I mean antipodeesse at yahoo dot fr.

What’s in it for you? Why, fame and eternal glory of course!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

I Just Can't Help Myself....




He takes my breath away....



I think I need some medical treatment...

Saturday, October 13, 2007

No Lunch Out Tomorrow Then

French Hubby won't be taking us out to lunch tomorrow... France lost 9-14 to England. He will probably make me scrub the floors with a toothbrush instead. Damn, am I destined to always be on the losing side?

It was such a nail-biting match! France played well but the older chaps looked tired towards the end, and the English defence was simply impenetrable. Johnny Wilkinson made a miraculous return to form and won the game for England with his magic kicking.

If Beauxis hadn't had to leave the game early, I feel sure he would have attempted (and scored) a few drop goals. My boyfriend Séb Chabal came so close to scoring a try: he could have, would have been such a hero!

Ah well, I'll be consoling him in my dreams tonight, in the nicest possible way, and in the best possible taste!

Real-Time, Stream of Consciousness Blogging During the Rugby World Cup Semi Final

Half-time, France leading, but only just, with 6-5! England scored a try after only 1 minute and 52 seconds! Amazing!

Omigod, when Chabal was "injured" (his down-time only lasted a few minutes), the sight of his stupendous, tattooed thigh in glorious close-up on the telly sent shock waves through my entire body. I shouted to the ref that I was available to give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation if necessary. My husband, only centimetres away on the sofa, just laughed. I told him he should grow a beard and let his hair grow long too, and he just laughed again - we are of course drinking champagne during the match.

Jason Robinson is incredibly cute and Johnny Wilkinson is angelic-looking, and a kicking super hero, although he's missed one penalty and a conversion so far tonight, which is very disappointing, although it was a tough angle, to be honest. Jason and Johnny can be my boyfriends when I'm only wanting a pocket-size version, but most of the time I will need the Maxi-Boyfriend, i.e. Chabal.

I expected to be fully supporting France tonight, but my English roots (thanks Dad!) are showing and I'm thoroughly enjoying the match, as I don't have to suffer the emotional torment of watching the All Blacks play.

Second half starting, see ya later!

Friday, October 12, 2007

Kiss

A truly excellent, highly topical and slightly smutty rugby joke was sent to me by The Lovely Doc today:

Une femme va voir son gynéco...
Lors de l'examen il se rend compte qu'elle a, à l'intérieur de chaque cuisse, un tatouage !
L'un représente Dominici et l'autre Michalak !
Elle avoue être Fan de rugby.
Le gynéco aussi. Alors il demande à la patiente s'il peut lui faire un petit bisou sur chacun, afin de porter chance aux Bleus ! Elle accepte.
Après s'être exécuté, le médecin se relève et la patiente s'écrie:
'Et à Chabal on lui fait pas un bisou ????'


A woman goes for her gynae appointment. During the exam the doctor notices that she has a tattoo on each inner thigh.
One is a portrait of Christophe Dominici, the other is of Frédéric Michalak.
The patient admits to being a rugby fan. The gynae doc is too. So he asks her if he may kiss each tattoo, in order to bring good luck to Les Bleus. She grants her permission.
Having leaned over to bestow a kiss upon each tattoo, the doctor straightens up, and the patient cries “What about Chabal? Doesn’t he get a kiss too?!”

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

A Hollow Laugh

Have you heard about the new All Blacks bra?

It has lots of support, but no cup.