So as I was saying there aren’t too many places here that will require formalwear. Just in case you think I’m prone to exaggeration, which I have denied a thousand times, I want to show you something that will forever prove that I have truly gone native.
As you drive into Semur this little guy is one of the first locals you will see. He lives in this field, actually in this very spot, right next to the Citroen dealership where we bought the blue bubble. Well maybe little guy is not exactly accurate.
He is the biggest creature I have ever seen. I begged Neil to go stand next to him so that you could get a true sense of the beast but in a shocking display of defiance he refused. So much for his suffering for my art and all that.
I know you hoped I was done talking about balls but my friends what else is there to talk about here?
Oh I know, arses.
I know he’s thinking “does this field make my arse look fat?” Once again Neil refused to do a side by side comparison for perspective. He’s out of control that one.
I know what you’re thinking, that’s a sin for her, plastering his wobbly bits all over the internet without a signed consent form but maybe he likes it. Maybe he’s just thrilled with people stopping to marvel at the size of his everything. Pictures cannot even begin to convey how enormous he is and it took him ages just to turn himself around for the perfect shot of his derrière.
Every time we pass him we just have to stop and gawk at him and for sure he is a sight to see but here’s what I’m thinking, maybe he needs a name (yes, it’s Name That Bull Day), something a bit more refined than what I call him. Apparently Super Scrotum is not considered respectful in France.
I’m feeling postively slim this morning,thanks for that.
Well, it may not be particularly French, but I’m thinking “Ferdinand”. Like the story about the bull who didn’t want to bullfight, but would rather sit in his field and smell the flowers.
This guy made me think of Ferdinand immediately. In spite of his huge-ness, he does seem rather elegant and refined, don’t you think?
Oooh very good one, Ferdinand, I’ll try it out on him later today…
XO
B
Now he’s a thing of beauty, balls and all. I can’t believe the muscle structure on that guy. Wow.
We lived on a farm on the west coast of Canada for a few years and the owners had a huge bull. I think he may have been the cousin of your French bull, to this city girl he was huge… ahem…everywhere. Of course I had to name him (I named all the farm animals to the amusement of the owner) so one day Kevin just popped into my head. So Kevin it was until one day he disappeared and I was too afraid to ask the owner what happened to him. So while it’s not exactly French I suggest the name Kevin…..
I think you need to go with something completely unexpected…..
Visitor: “Good Lord! Look at the size of THAT beast!”
You: “Yeah…that’s Kevin.”
Kevin is good. What about Todd?
XO
B
Bobbi
I was married to a bullshitter named Todd, sounds perfect to me…..
Rose
Well they are not blue more like reddish…..how about “Rusty”?
What, no notice taken of his thick calves?? Thick AND short AND stubby??
No, wait, those are mine. How embarrassing.
Pamela – BIZARRE that we thought of the exact same name.
Allow me: Jill, Pamela. Pamela, Jill. Right spooky…
XO
B
Yikes! No kidding….perhaps we’re long lost relations?
Olé le taureau…Olé means every”THING”!!
Creme Bull,eh?
Say it fast and all together. Oh, I slay me sometimes! Please pardon the flagrant abuse of the Canadian stereotype.
Okay very clever eh
XO
B
I think you need a reminder of where you came from mixed with a bit of understatement:
Joey Smallwood.
Ah yes, a perfect name for a load of bull…
XO
B
Or in the spirit of Newfoundland politics, Danny.
Say Bobbi forget top gun about we call your bull” Top Gear”
I like “Tiny” :)
I am dying here. It’s the lines like “in a shocking display of defiance he refused” combined with photos of bull balls.