Major and Madame Red make a porno (almost)

The other day Madame Red, rosy cheeks and all, suggested we do something different. Something we had never tried in 6 years. Something that would spice things up a little bit.

Bingo, I said, when she tried to describe what it was all about. The idea, of course, was more than tempting.

So we went online to find a shop which sells the kind of things we needed. It came as no surprise that it was located in a back alley and we were both very intimated by what we saw –it’s fair to say that it was our first time in such a place.

- What would you use that for? she would ask.
- I have absolutely no idea, I would reply.

But then we managed to find what we needed and we came back home pretty excited.

And so we started working on our new thing which concretely meant that I got to comfortably lie down in our bed while Madame Red showed off her new acquisitions and made fantastic use of them.

Well, she should cook more often because her green curry was very tasty.
And spicy, too.

The more I think about it the more I'm telling myself

that it's going to be really nice to be able to spend my sunday afternoons in Auschwitz .

Of becoming adults

Yesterday Madame Red and I bought toilet paper because we only had one roll left.

It is a sign, isn't it?

Madame Red is packing again

I begged them. Down on my knees.
Please.
Please.
Please.
Give me another job, I asked.

And because the big guns at the Agency are nice, understanding people, they did.

Now, I don’t know much about the city we’re moving to.
I just know it looks like that:

Staples Center

Although my job is very important, I rarely get to deal with state secrets.

There are things, they say, you’re better off not knowing.

And then today at the office I found myself involved in a potentially international story which could very well threaten my security and that of my family.

I found out where the staples were hidden.

A moment of glory

Today, I was almost on TV.
But finally, I wasn’t
For two reasons, mainly.
First because I wasn’t there (where the cameras were).
Then because they didn’t air it (what the cameras filmed when I wasn’t there)

But, man, was it a close shave.

Fantasy monday

I always dreamt to be world champion.
In football especially.
But no.
So today, for my first day back at work, I just pretended to be world champion.
At the beginning it went ok.
But then, it was just as boring as usual.

Uncle figure

My sister got me a nice present for my birthday this year. In truth she’d meant to get it for Madame Red’s but, hey, these things happen sometimes.

So there you go, my nephew was born this morning, a tad early of course but his parents are such nice people that I guess he couldn’t wait to meet them.

Those who met him already say that his beauty eerily reminds them of his uncle.

The very rich hours of the Duke of Berry*

In a comment he left on my blog recently, my friend Don J wondered what the hell I was doing at work to come out with such nonsense.
In a way I thought his was a pertinent remark and I decided, in exclusivity, to share with you a day at the office with a French spy. So buckle up because I am not jacking around.

9am: a game of Rock-paper-scissors to decide which director we are going to take the piss out of today. Last time we counted, there were 12 of them so it takes a bit of time.

10:15 am: I google my true identity and fortunately my name does not pop up. My cover seems to be rock solid.

11am: meeting to play who’s the most badass. So far I am the all around champion with this sentence: ‘the last person who talked to me like that used to live across from the cemetery and now he lives across from his own house’ (a colleague of mine thought I was such a badass that we had to call an ambulance, she had a fit)

1pm: just like they do in 24 we sit behind our computers and look at each other suspiciously.

3pm: it’s a tad boring so we end up playing rummy.

5pm: if it looks like there is no imminent threat to the global peace in the world, I may go home where Madame Red, athirst for my company, is cooking dinner for me.

*Naturally the title has got nothing to do with anything but it’s a way for me to attract new readers as I suspect many people google this entry every day.

Reviews

Following my last post a lot of people wrote to say – I quote - holy shit, Major, you can really draw the rain.

Well, thank you.

Week end in San Francisco

Cause Celeb

Voici 6 personnalités célèbres à Los Angeles dont vous n’avez jamais entendu parler :

Here are 6 Los Angeles celebrities you have never heard of:

Pete Carroll: Coach à l’Université de Californie du Sud. Demi-Dieu.
Pete Carroll: Football Coach at the University of Southern California. Godlike status.

Antonio Villaraigosa: Maire. A du pain sur la planche.

Antonio Villaraigosa: Mayor. Has still some work to do.

Manny Ramirez: Vient de décliner un contrat de 25 millions de dollars pour un an avec les Dodgers de Los Angeles. Prenez le temps de relire ça.

Manny Ramirez: just turned down a one year, 25 million dollars deal with the LA Dodgers. Read that again.

Paul Moyer: Présentateur du JT sur NBC4 depuis qu’on a trouvé de l’or en Californie.

Paul Moyer: NBC4 news anchorman, pretty much since they found gold in California.

Lauren Sanchez: présentatrice du JT sur My13. Je vous jure que c’est vrai.

Lauren Sanchez: My13 news anchorwoman. I swear it’s true.

David Beckham: Joueur de foot local qui veut partir pour une équipe en Europe (je suis pas sûr du pays, mais je crois bien que c’est celui qui ressemble à une botte.)

David Beckham: Local soccer player who wants to join a team in the south of Europe (I am not too sure which country but I think it’s the one that look like a boot.)

Question of the day

The other day, in a hotel nearby, some people in charge of the music industry decided that Coldplay’s Viva La Vida was the best song of the year.

And already about a month ago, in another hotel nearby, some people in charge of the film industry had decided that Slumdog Millionaire was the best film of the year.

Sometimes I wonder if they’re not taking us for twerps.

Living with Madame Red is a humbling experience.

For example, we’ll be listening to a song on the radio and she’ll be able to say after about two tenths of a second who sings it, who wrote it, who produced it, what year it was released, what she was doing the very first time she heard it and, if you insist, even add a bit of juicy info about the artist.

Or we’ll be having a quiet morning reading the paper and while I’ll be frantically trying to find out about Steven Gerrard’s hamstring injury, she’ll suddenly jump out of the couch, scandalized, outraged by the coverage of the conflict in Darfur or in Palestine.

Or we’ll make our picks on Facebook for the Champions’league and she’ll do amazingly well, like she knows from I don’t know where that Panatinaikos can never beat Besiktas at home.

Or I’ll be online playing Tactical Assassin and she’ll be online on the other laptop making a list of all the cultural events in Los Angeles that we cannot miss.

Or she’ll be taking an exam that is so hard that only a handful of people in the world will pass it. And she’ll be one of them of course.

Well, thank God I’m pretty because I was getting worried for a minute there.

Fiat Lux (except that not really)

And then the lights went out. Just like that. Light, I am told, tends to move incredibly fast so when it stops it feels kind of weird. Although mostly it feels kind of dark. Madame Red was gone to New York and I was on my own. Sitting on the couch, I was thinking about what I could do without the electricity?
Well, not much, it turns out.
I mean it’s not like I could check my mail. Or read a book. Or listen to some music. Or watch TV. Or cook. Or shave, even.
I must have fallen asleep listing all the things that I couldn’t do because at some stage my phone rang and it felt like the middle of the night. It was the City of Los Angeles Water and Power Department, they were downstairs waiting for me to let them in. Which I did promptly as I thought they actually were the LAPD (and one thing one doesn’t have after spending the whole evening alone in the dark is an alibi).
Me and the LAWPD, we looked for the meter for a while but when we found it there was nothing they could for me. So I went back to bed, again listing all the things that I was not going to be able to do: watch a film on the laptop, play a little sudoku, buy yet another loser for my fantasy football team. It was 2:15 am. And I soon realized that there was one more thing I could add to my list of no-can-dos: go back to sleep.

The only thing you don’t need the electricity for.

Denominated

It is with profound sadness that I have learnt that, unlike last year, I have not been nominated for ANY category at the Irish Blog Awards.

And believe me, the fact that I am not Irish offers little consolation.

Let's admit it

Sometimes, when we are drunk, Madame Red and I think about how life would be if we had a baby.

But then it's always the same problem.

This could happen.

Another wasted opportunity

Yesterday I had an idea for a great post. The kind of things that gets you a nod at the Irish blog awards thingy.

But then I forgot.

Darnit.

A day at the office

Work is so boring that yesterday a squirrel committed suicide.

He jumped off a palm tree.

Freeway

“People are afraid to merge on freeways in Los Angeles”
Bret Easton Ellis, Less than zero

And, yes, I guess I kind of see why…