Thursday, September 22, 2011

Chic Chick . . .

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The Italian politician Berlusconi has been in the press a lot lately because it is alleged that various people provided young women to serve the role of escorts for him at his lavish parties. They chased up chicks for him, apparently. I hope I won't be accused of anything similar for having offered up this sexy and fashionable most chic chick for the rightly revered Mr Springman's perusal at his World Bird Wednesday party, going on right now. May have to get myself a red leather jacket and some big necklace type jewelry. As for this chick, I had to go all the way to the south of France to find her. And though she may not be a spring chicken, she could now be considered a Springman chicken. Enjoy ! Just imagine how good she'd taste after a spell in your oven and laid out all saucy like on your lap ? Errrr, on your plate, I meant. (sorry, guess I'll just pluck off now...)(please don't henpeck me too much for this momentary lapse of reason)(and don't call me a turkey either !)
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23 comments:

Steve said...

Like all beautiful chicks... she has a neck like a swan...

:: Karine :: said...

eh bien tu délires bien ce matin owen adoré !
par contre je la trouve peu appétissante ta poule ^
manque quelque chose, de formes peut-être !
et elle est vraiment rouge :-)
et dis-donc ce serait pas plutôt un coq ?!

Alistair said...

She may have the neck of a swan - but that's a face only a mother {or a poultry butcher} could love,

the fly in the web said...

There's a certain resemblance to Martine Aubry, don't you find?

Bienvenue chez French Girl in Seattle... said...

Someone is in a joking mood... Une bonne recette de poule au pot, peut-etre? Veronique (French Girl in Seattle)

louciao said...

As with all chicks as they grow into maturity and beyond, the neck is the first to go, with the breast meat soon following in a sort of over-cooked chicken-skinish manner. You may ruffle a few feathers with this post, BrOwen, and have a few viewers clucking at the controversy of poultry wrangling in high places.

(I'd pay good money--or do some heavy bartering--to see you decked out in a red leather jacket, adorned alluringly with heavy jewellery around your neck. Don't forget to leave your shirt open to your navel. Yup, I'm sure you'd make a fine Little Red Rooster, too lazy to crow for days.)

Stickup Artist said...

I saw a documentary on Berlusconi and how he owns all of Italian TV which is made up almost exclusively of stunningly gorgeous but not allowed to speak sexy girls whose whole purpose is to wiggle all over the place. They even had a name for them - Vellini or Bellini, (TV girls) something like that. That guy is unbelievable. Anyway, your chic chick looks fine to many a rooster I'm sure. And furthermore, I'd like to kick in with louciao for that outfit !!!

Bienvenue chez French Girl in Seattle... said...

-- Re-bonjour, Owen -- Totally unrelated to today's post but I have just read your excellent description of how sweet comments are to a blogger's heart. I borrowed it and posted it on my blog. Hope that's ok. If not, let me know. In fact, if I wasn't so lazy, I could have attempted a list of my own, but yours was so darn good! ;-)Veronique -French Girl in Seattle

Deborah said...

Oh my, she's a stunner! And I'm thinking that you're a bit like the little kid who just can't stop at one candy bar - except that your weakness is for puns. Just ooooone more??

Springman said...

Mr.Owen,
Here in the North woods, as the season turns, the males of all antler bearing species go into the rut, a testosterone related upheaval of primeval passions. The rut crazed male does not pretend to be politically correct, forgiveness will be required for the loose, immoral and possibly unwelcome advances made by otherwise sedate gentlemen when they have regained a civil tone. I fell prey to this yearly malaise and now I see that you have succumbed. Beware turkey, doe, and olive skinned Italian women, the rut is on, the bucks are twitchy with it. Ladies, expect stupid and crass until the next full moon.
Here in Michigan, according to custom, we dress in orange, clean our bows and shotguns, head for the woods to kill the beast and haul back it's carcass to fill or freezers with meat we would not pay .79 cents a pound for at the grocery store. It is the call of the wild. You can dress it up in a Italian suit, even call it The President of the United States, but the mechanism is the same. In the evening, with the smell of the kill fresh in our nostrils, we make the move to the rustic, knotty pine paneled shot and beer bars to chase a different kind of wild life. Chic? Not on your life, but other than his $5,000 Italian shoes Brother Berlusconi sounds like he would fit right in with the "Great Unwashed" of Northern Michigan.
These days you don't even need to shoot straight!

Thank you good Sir for your kind attentions. I except your saucy chicken offering with gratitude!

BTW...since we're doing low brow... is there anything sexier than Rima's dirty toes? I am crazy with her site!

Owen said...

Steve, you mean a swan after swimming in the cooling pond of a nuclear site ? Actually I thought this poor bird's neck looked like it had had a near miss with a guillotine, but I didn't want to shock anyone by saying as much on the cover page... :-) Or maybe she had a run in with a lawn mower, or a grain reaper or some such...

Owen said...

Chère Karine, tu as raison, elle n'est pas la plus feminine des poules que j'ai pu voir jusqu'ici, mais je ne la dirais jamais ça, car elle à l'air carrément méchante, celle-là... Par contre, je suis assez persuadé que c'est bien une poule, car le coq dans le coin courrait après, et il y avait plein d'autres poules qui lui ressemblaient... mais bon, on ne sait jamais... mais quand même, quelque chose dans les lignes de son bec, et son regard méfiant me dit que c'est une chic chick, et non pas un rooster... l'endroit était sublime, le sud du Causse Méjean, près de Meyrueis et le Chaos de Vieux Nimes...

Owen said...

Alistair, I think even the poultry butcher would have trouble accomplishing his mission. This may be a case of auto-mutilation to avoid execution by becoming so repugnant that even the executioner won't approach... ?

Owen said...

Dear Fly, I didn't dare propose such a comparison, but I feel there may be some truth in what you are seeing... yes, the curve of that beak is decidedly reminiscent...

Personally, btw, I don't have anything against Martine Aubry, it was thanks to her that I went from having 5 weeks of vacation to having 10 weeks of vacation... so I can't complain. But I'm not sure I see her as presidential stature, but who know, the campaign is only just beginning, and now that DSK seems to be out of the running, almost anything could happen. And don't rule out Marine L-P... if the euro zone goes bust, there may be a lot of people who suddenly became rather poorer than they were before who may want to follow her out of the euro and out of europe. Many are fed up with N S and his lack of decisive actions on delinquency and crime. Time will tell... but things could get interesting here in a hurry if the markets go bust again.

Owen said...

Véronique, must be the phase of the moon... may we open a bottle of chablis with that poule au pot ??? As-tu déjà gouté le chateau grenouilles ? Un fabuleux grand cru classé chablis... je le conseille fortement... :-) (et oui, là je ne plaisante pas, il existe, le chateau grenouilles, à Chablis. A very pretty village, btw, if you haven't been there before, very easy to visit because it is just of the A6 and not really all that far from Paris...) But I imagine you have been there already ? In your 2CV ?

Owen said...

Dearest Lynne, you always have such perfect advice... note to self, must remember to open more buttons on shirt to better exhibit heavy gold chain necklaces... As for the ravages of age and the tender neck of chicks past their prime, the title of your blog holds the answer : if ample décolleté glimpses are displayed, no one is going to notice a crease or two on the neck... :-) Heck, we are all going to be wrecks soon anyway, at this awful rate of time going by... hiding behind our virtual personas as our physical reality deceives us... no ? Our society does not treat the ancient and venerable very kindly, I fear. Which is another point I deeply respect about indigenous native american cultures... they took good care of their elderly... and revered their wisdom.

Owen said...

Hi Stickup, for a long time now I've been referring to him as "Burlesque-oni", or also as "Macaroni", which is a pun only in French, because a "Maque", pronounced "Mac", which is short for "Maquereau" or "herring", is French slang for a pimp... He really has become the epitome of slimy politics. And thanks so much for helping Lynne pick out my leather jacket and silk shirts... I think a burgundy colored leather would be really sharp...

Owen said...

Hi Véro, that is very sweet of you, and you are more than welcome... although I don't see where it is pasted... unless maybe you used invisible ink ?
:-)

Owen said...

Deborah, How on earth did you guess that I had a thing for consuming multiple candy bars ???
(he snickers as he galumphs away...) I could almost give you a Hershey's kiss !
:-)

Owen said...

Sir Springman,
Pure gold, pure pleasure, your account of rutting about in the Michigan woods, hunting for that elusive girl from the north country... that sad eyed lady of the lowlands... And yes, I think you are on to something : perhaps Mr Burlesquoni could be dressed up in a buckskin suit with antlers galore and released in those vast north woods which are crawling with heavily armed hunters... some inflatable dolls could be used for decoys to lure him in... :-)

Oh deer, I'm getting carried away with low brow, for sure, it must be the season of love in the deep woods.

But as for Rima, and her earthy toes, she is a goddess, and as such she is off limits for any possible observations which I could never allow myself to even consider as to the sexiness of those most delectable of podiatrial extremities exhibited on her page, yes, were we to go back 3000 years or so, I'm sure we would have found her at Stonehenge, revered as a moon goddess... In any event, I share your passion, it would take a truly hardened soul to not go a little crazy over her site...

BrandNewStudio said...

WonderfulPicture
GoodCreations

Catherine said...

Berlusconi is already salivating at the sight of his new spring chicken...Greetings from the Riviera...

Maria O. Russell said...

M.Owen, your creativity and your sense of humor are stunning!

You make my day every time I visit your blog.

Thank you so much.