How many famous bloggers can you find in this video*?
Which ones can you identify?
How many sing out of tune? (please don’t mention names here)
On a scale of 1 to 10, how much fun do bloggers have in Paris?
*with extremely lousy sound.
I got up at 10 this morning, it needs to be stressed because considering it is Sunday and that I usually get up around 2pm on Sundays. This needed to be stressed.
Anyway, just a quick note to complain about some major unfair world event that took place yesterday: the Eurovision Song Contest. You know I’ve loved this show for years. My sister and I used to record it every year and learn all the songs by heart and then perform the songs in phonetic Croatian and Greek in our parents’ living-room up until
2 years ago 15 years ago (with the choreography and all). Then I moved to Sweden where I could explore my true Eurotrashself freely thanks to Swedes’ genuine interest in the show. Then I moved to Thailand where they barely knew where Europe was and finally, I moved back to France where hardly anybody watches the show, but where thankfully I met Rhino who took over the role that Sweden and my sister had held so perfectly for years. But this year, Rhino left me for some obscure wedding party in London (like hello, what are your priorities Rhino?) and abandoned me alone with someone who doesn’t give a shit about THE event that makes me shiver more than a French presidential election or the opening ceremony of the Olympics. Yes, dear readers, I was left alone watching the show with my snoring friend next to me whom I’d wake up regularly by saying things like: Wake up, it’s the Serbian Lesbian now! or Wake up it’s the British Trolley Dollies now. He only managed to stay awake during France’s performance which he thought was very good (he’s so French) and then went back to sleep. Well my two favorites were Ukrainian Tranny and the UK Trolley Dollies (whom I voted for). But it was Serbian Lesbian who killed them all and brought back her ugly trophy to Belgrade. France and the UK shared a comfortable 24th position (out of 25 songs) and equalled their last year’s performance.
So I got up at 10 this morning. Made breakfast and turned on the TV. It was Sunday morning mass. I immediately switched channel but couldn’t, no batteries left in the remote control. Aaaaah, I’m stuck with Sunday morning mass and the techie that I am can’t even change channel on the TV itself. Thankfully, I found this on My Boyfriend is a Twat which saved my morning and gave me a good laugh.
But then, I started my regular morning browse through my favorite blogs and realized that while some are complaining about Eurolesbians and Morning mass, some others are actually crossing the border to Afghanistan and are threatened to be abducted any time soon. Perspective. Do go and say hello to my dear Beaver friend who’s in Pakistan now, on her way to Kabul and save the world.
Ok, gotta go to my theater class now.
Apparently, due to a little technical problem, some of you haven’t been able to vote. Here is the address where you can send your votes until tonight 8 pm. Thank you.
When you’re done voting, you can go and say hi to my dearest Babs, She’s found some stuff from her old blog that reminded me of how much I am crazy about the fiercest bitch on Long Island.
Thanos has published a bilingual post which shows that on top of Emily Loizeau, The Killers and showing ourselves on video, we also share a taste for white virgins.
The Frog Academy is on its way, but my computer is crazy, so I’ll need a few more days. In other words, it’s not my fault. It is actually never my fault.
Remember this tacky video? Well, it’s time to vote for your favorite Nouveau Lo(o)ser 2007. Votes will be accepted till Monday night, Paris time. Once you’ve chosen your favorite song, click and then write your email address, you’ll receive an email that asks you to confirm your decision. (it’s in French, so fo those of you who don’t speak the language of Molière & Hélène Ségara, it basically asks you to click on the link and confirm. Watchout, it seems you can only vote once!
So here’s the deal: if you vote for me, I promise to send you naked photos. If you don’t want to see any naked photos of me (which is a legitimate decision), then just vote for me and send me naked photos of you. You see, it’s very easy.
This is a recording of my relatives and I singing last weekend. It was made in my talented cousin’s bedroom/studio. All background vocals and instruments are real, a computer was used to mix it all up that’s all. I know the song does not make any sense and is pretty rude and dirty. But what do you expect, that’s my family. Below, you can read what happened and why we recorded it.
NB: The talented writers of this amazing song (ahem) have nothing against Ségolène Royal. (Quite the contrary). The fact that she was called Queen of Twats is pure unlucky coincidence. You’ll understand why below.
Now, let me explain.
It’s strange. I talked to my dad on the phone tonight and he was telling me which ones on the Pédéblogosphère (his own words) were his favorite and which ones he found corny & silly (he can’t really remember names though, just things like: “I don’t really like the one who looks like…”) but I won’t go into further details of course . Because, yes, my parents read this blog and they also read the blogs of the people who comment here. It may sound scary & weird, but that’s just the way it is. But let me tell you a little bit about them before you get too scared.
If I ever took you to my family’s place, you would probably
a) get scared by the 7 hour long lunches and dinners while being force-fed by my mother (’cause if you do not take 4 servings of every dish, she might get really upset)
b) be told how skinny you look and you therefore need to eat more (I’m usually not included in that skinny category though)
c) get overwhelmed by people who talk all the time and ask you lots of nosey questions (me included)
d) get forced to participate in the family’s favorite activity: Singing really loudly
e) and finally get forced to stay up till 2 am talking, singing, eating or doing it all at the same time.
Last weekend, I went to Provence to visit my relatives and also say hello to my old granny who lives in St-Rémi-de-Provence, a quaint little town that tourists visit because Van Gogh cut his ear there more than a century ago. Some of my family members were there too.
On the first night, after we had all been force-fed, accused of being skinny and been asked tricky questions. We went over to the traditional sing along. But this time, we changed the rules and decided to write a song, sing it and record it. Unfortunately, in spite of the family Von Trapp ambitions of my relatives, we are not yet very good at lyrics. Neither do we master the art of poetry. We therefore played the Exquisite Corpse in order to write a song.
But what is the Exquisite Corpse? You are asking.
Well, well. If you’re French, you may actually be aware of what the Cadavre Exquis is. It’s a game that was invented by writers and philosophers belonging to the Surrealist Movement in France, sometime in the 20/30’s. It consists of a piece of paper that travels among the participants. Each participant writes a sentence, folds the piece of paper so as to hide what was written and then hands it over for the next person to add a line to the story and so on and so forth until the whole thing becomes a story. The result doesn’t usually make any sense but the syntactic accuracy leads to a sort of crazy story that might as well be the beginning of a surrealist novel. So we decided to do the same thing with a song.; Each person would add one line and then tell the next person what it should rhyme with. Example: If I write: Je t’aime mon amour, I would tell the next person to write a line rhyming with “our”.
Then we went to my cousins’ bedroom and recorded the song in his little home-made studio. He quickly created the music. We decided we should sing in a USA for Africa kind of style, one line each. And since Cindy Lauper couldn’t make it with her waaaa yee ha haaaawaaaa wah, my sister appears every now and then throughout the song imitating some well-known French females singers. Let’s see if you can guess who they are. But since my family is a bit dirty-minded (we haven’t really gotten over the fart/pee and poo stage) and by then we had had too many drinks so the final lyrics sounded like this:
Ma vie, mes amours et, / Avec mes yeux foncés / S’en aller au-dessus / Fantasme de Robert Hue / La foufoune de Sylvie / Il faut pas qu’on s’y fie / C’était un grand pet gras / Pourquoi suis-je si las ? refrain: Je ne sais trop pourquoi / Garder le pet en moi / Niquons joyeusement / Des radis donne-m’en / Décibels énervés / La lune m’éclaire la raie / Votez pour Ségolène / Des connes tu es la reine. // A chauffé mon regard / Et voilà un motard / Je suis seule à Paris / Face à toi, je faiblis / Nain de jardin l’es-tu ? / Puais sous ton tutu ? / La gloire du matin / Rentre dans mon vagin – Refrain
Approximate English translation
My life, my loved ones and, / With my dark eyes / To go above / Robert Hue’s fantasy / Sylvie’s pussy / Shouldn’t be trusted / T’was a big fat fart / Why am I so tired? – Chorus: I don’t really know why / I keep this fart inside / Let’s f*** happily / And give me some radish / Angry decibels / The moon shines on my butt-crack / Vote Ségolène / You are the queens of twats // It warmed up my look / But here is a biker / I’m alone in Paris / In front of you, I get weak /Are you a garden-elf? / Stank under your tutu / The morning glory / Enters my vagina – Chorus
April is the musical month here at Château Le Frog. While we are still waiting for FwAB Academy’s last entry, I’m part of another contest. The Nouvelle Lose contest. Thanos, Zep and Ikare organized it and a lot of my daily reads are part of the ordeal and since their blogs are all more popular than mine, I urge you, dear readers, beautiful & sexy readers, to vote for me as I have a feeling the prize is going to involve some strip-tease or kinkiness of some sort. Isn’t one of your objectives in life to make your Frog happy? I’m asking you, dear, wonderful & amazing readers?
Here is the trailer of the Nouvelle Lose (in French) and underneath, my entry. Then, you can use you small & delightful fingers and click here to see the other participants and vote for your favorite.
I know you’re waiting and I know you cannot wait anymore. Neither can I, however, I will need a few more days as some of you naughty bloggers (I won’t name names) have been promising an entry they still haven’t sent, and I simply cannot organize the said Academy without these fabulous people’s entry. So we’ll wait a few more days.
In the meantime, let me thank the 10 other bloggers who’ve sent their entry so far. I can tell you, you’re going to be laughing and/or crying. Stay tuned for amazing performances of ACDC, Donna Summer, Jeanne Moreau, Marilyn Monroe, National Anthems and other traditional songs…