A har he har he har he har - A har he har he har - Je vais un lucky strikes muchos grandiose - that’s as far as my fragile grasp on French can flex - so you can imagine the horror with which the channel tunnel swallowed the Eurostar choo choo with our bad selves on it.
We entered France as we do any other situation - hungover, groggy and in need of 850 winks rather than the 17 that were accrued the previous evening.
The journey over was an uncomfortable affair. Squished up in a seat that would have been more at home in a concentration camp than a form of public transport. Obviously sitting next to the world’s thickest couple.
However once descending into fair Paris the inner tourist emerged and decided to strut its stuff like a peacock high on tat.
We did it all - The Eiffel tower, the porn museum, picking up a cock shaped egg mould, going for a freaking boat ride.
Due to unfortunate circumstances we missed Weatherall at the Rex Club and Metronomy at Durr but we did eat a lot of meat…and got a private tour of Parisian streets in a car at break-neck speed thanks to Joss and Anna. Here’s some of the highlights in photo form.
That guy up there was hanging outside the pornography museum. In the background you can just about make out the chair with tongues on it. You sit on it and the revolving spoke of plastic tongues 'licks' your bits until you explode. Well sexy innit.
I was just pissing by
Answering the phone
Answering the phone part deux
Pouting in Paris
Paris is a city of great lovers - even this hunchback is on it
Lost
Day One - Hungover
House of Gyro
Not only that but when we returned to the UK, the crew ended up going for a meal in an Indian restaurant near Tottenham Court Road. They served these dosa parcel type tings but the best bit was when they brought this cheesey monster out. Compliments of the chef... Big...
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