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.

Share