Merci. Beau cul.

As is the case in all foreign travel excursions, one must complete a customs declaration. Both Sleepless and I did so upon returning into the United States and, later, we noticed we may not have claimed some extra carry-on luggage, also known as newly formed French assets. For as much as we walked, danced and stretched, the bottom line is we have returned from France with a definite asset. The kind that might make one exclaim, “Merci. Beau cul.”

 

I’ve decided to embrace the situasstion and compliment it with a nice pair of boots – courtesy of Switzerland. Again, merci. Beau cul.

 

Hepburn just recently returned from Europe so she and I were discussing customs, declarations, assets and fanny packs. I told her about Maverick Midget Kick and his love for his fanny pack, aka banana, at which time she interjected, “You know, I wish fanny packs didn’t have such a bad rap, because I really like them too. Really, they’re just so practical.”

 

I went on to tell her how Maverick Midget King trusted me with his banana while in France and, one evening while driving back from one of our adventures, he asked, “Where is my banana?” I looked down, found it sitting on my lap, and said, “In between my legs.”

 

In a way, I wish I had purchased a fanny pack so I could declare that instead of my asset. Primarily, because the fanny pack/banana is easy to remove. Assets, well, they take a lot of work to lose/remove and just a few fettes brot, croissant, bratwurst, chantilly, sucra and other sweet treats to gain. Merci. Beau cul.

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