Me and the little wife were rudely acosted and asked to leave a city pool this past June by a haughty little Frenchman who spoke terrible English and who's foul breath reminded me of a goat cheese and sardines soufflé gone bad. It was an ugly and totally uncalled for international incident.

It could have been much worse, but we being Americans, showed some real class and "swave de funk" to defuse the incident before all the french men got scared and pulled out the white flag they required by government decree to carry in thier wallets. I would hate to think what would have happened if the tables had been turned and this would have happened back in Georgia.

We had spent a great deal of time making the rounds at various Wendy's and Mickey Dees assembling our picnic supplies and had a great selection of hamburgers, freedom fries, and deep fried apple pies that we asked the french chef to lather in extra virgin lard. The little wife had even been clever enough to bring along a jumbo can of Pork & Beans and a bulging bag of extra spicy pork rinds. Man oh man it just don't get no better than this eatingwise in Paris.

Seeing how the frenchies were all bunched up in the good shady spots, me and mama had to elbow our way into a shady spot. Using a little french I picked up in the army and passing gas greatly eased our transition. And I must say that it wasn't an easy task as we had to constantly be on the look out for "le turdards" from all the hyperactive poodles that were prancing about.

Then we neatly spread out a sheet from the hotel (what's a few more stains?) and strategically arrayed our usual lounging essentials: 10 foot retractable flagpole with oversized American flag, battery-operated fan with red, white and blue blades, giant-sized Mickey and Minnie Mouse fly swatters, trunk-sized boom box with our favorite tape "Toe Tapping Tunes to Shell Peas and Husk Corn By," toenail clippers, mud mask warmer, foot itch spray, Dolly Parton back scratchier, and economy-sized toilet paper roll.

Since we weren't going to be there long, I pulled out two thin books that I could read in just a few minutes: "French War Heros in Modern Times" and another very popular one, "Major French Initiatives in the War on Terror." I had left another good one "How to Lose a Vast Colonial Empire without Really Trying" back in the room on Rue de le Super Size.

I was wearing my best cut-off blue jeans and the wife had on a very fancy Wal-Mart swimsuit (pink with yellow and white daisies) designed to enhance her generous rear-end and flabby pale white "cottage cheese" legs.

We quickly lathered up with some old family recipe suntan oil (Iodine and Crisco), took a few bites from our MacDonald's hamburgers, cranked up the boom box and started doing a few belly-flops to get in the mood for some serious laughs.

Then the trouble started just as it often does. A gaggle of rail-thin French women started with the excited whispering and finger pointing. You know how those sex-starved foreign babes can get when they first see a husky man with a good farmer's tan and a few knife-fight scars on a hairy back.

Then all the sissy men in those obscene shorts started to gawk at the wife like they never seen a full-figured woman bounce on the end of a diving board and let out a few rebel yells.

They pranced around a bit trying to impress me with their little tiny "packages', but I gave them more than they bargained and showed them what a real man has in his ragged jeans!

Next thing you know a snotty little pool "le manager" shows up with a real bad "attitude" problem and asks us to leave. We eventually did, but not before relieving ourselves in the pool.

We still chuckle at how we taught those arrogant, garlic-eating poodle-walkers not to mess with Americans on vacation.

What a well-written troll. Sorry you did not include the riot that your headline promised us.

[email protected]

RE: Ben

Guess I was a bit lazy on this fine weekend morning.

And you know Americans - got to keep it relatively short or they stop reading. Maybe I can work it in another post about shopping.

Oh, you again. Yawn.

RE: j-nag

Thanks for the compliment - I know you rarely descend back to earth and expend some of your precious time to bestow them on mere mortals.

Well done. Looking forward to the shopping trip.

This isn't even a good fabrication.

RE: smartytravels

Fabication? You mean you can actually make up this stuff from laundry soap?

Darlin Degas,
How fun to wake up to another of your hilarious "trip reports" but I must take exception to one tiny little point~ Remember Pup? well, he is a Poodle. And knowing what a gentle and sweet Pup he is, I cannot let his breed or myself, be slandered in this way- for I, too, am a Poodle Walker

RE: My fair Scarlett

I am greatly stunned and mortified to learn of this bizarre turn of events.

Please accept my most sincere apology.

When I am blessed to see you walking your fine canine under the spreading oak trees of your South Carolina plantation, it will indeed be a grand vision of extreme beauty.

I bet degas projects a handsome figure in his ragged bluejeans that droop in the back.

Degas,

You write even better than you paint!

Thanks for a great morning laugh!

Degas,
Every time I look at that little Ballerina, I will think of you and smile~

Degas

B R A V O !!!!! ancora< ancora!

I have not laughed so hard since your last trip report! Really, thank you so much for lifting my spirits sky high.

How can I print your reports out? I never want to loose them. I am still laughing and my kids don't know why.

How about a shopping excursion in Paris that involves a rude shop girl?

RE: Calamari

That slightly wicked streak in you is a most delightful trait.

I've taken your suggestion about the rude shop girl story under serious advisement. A few possibilities have already darted through my mind.

Laughter is the best medicine.....Degas you are FUNNY...

Slightly wicked? You mean my horns are visable beneath my tiara and my pointed tail is poking out from underneath my hooped skirt?

These potst crack me up! Thanks Degas for your hilarious sense of humour!

Calamari!! You wear a Tiara too!!
Are we sisters???
Don't you just hate those hoop skirts in the summer

You all are going to be aghast when you figure out that Degas is Uncle Sam.