Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Canned air for sale

Who says there is no such word in French for entrepreneur? Who says the French are stuck in the past and not open to new ideas?
Well, one enterprising young man from Montcuq is certainly bucking the trend and has come up with a product that is flying off the shelves in France .. L'air de Montcuq (sounds like mon cul, or in other words, air from my ass) is collected in Montcuq, a small commune in the Lot department in the South of France.

Air from my backside
Sold in tin cans , according to his website, L'air de montcuq is 100% organic, must be consumed immediately and tins must be kept closed to conserve freshness.
What started off as a bit of a joke, young Antoine Deblay from Montcuq, launched his idea on kisskissbank and before too long had crowd funded enough euros to sell his tins of fart. Now, one can order his original product online on his website for the perfect gift for that special someone for Christmas. They are available for delivery only in France and cost only 5euros (€5.50 with postage) .. I think it is going to be énorme!!!!!!
Now, what didn't I think of that?
See his website here

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Falling in Love again

One thing I miss about France is, that in Ireland, I am completely invisible. In France, men openly appraise you - they look you up and down and comment on what they see 'beh, t'as maigri Kar-Hen!' they exclaim 'J'adore ton look aujourd'hui ma cherie' - very gay I know, but then it is hard in France to tell who is gay with the straight guys wearing white suits, tight capri style pants, pink scarves and more hair product than Jedward on a down day.
In France, a man will meet you for the first time with a flirtatious 'Enchanté' ( Enchanted to meet you - don't you love it?) while their eyes sweep over you, hovering openly on any assets you may have on display. In Ireland, you may get a handshake but the Irish dude will barely look you in the eye. Once you have broken eye contact and are not looking at him, he may, if he is feeling cheeky, chance a sneaky glance at your bum.
Flirting in France is a national pastime and for the most part, harmless, adding a bit of excitement and frisson to one's day. Flirting in Ireland, as far as I can see, only happens after 15 pints when the lads get brave and the lassies get brazen...
In the meantime, I'm busy falling in love again ... with Ireland, the only one seducing me these days! Vive L'Irlande!
Road to Eyeries from Allihies

Colourful Skibbereen

Broad Strand

Simon's Cove
My son's dream house 10 metres from the sea


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