A club I can be a member of…

I am in the process of applying for membership of the French wing of the National Union of Journalists.

The application process is gruelling; I have to submit three published articles from recent months and fill in some paperwork. It’s moment like this I regret letting my career with the Warrandyte Diary lapse.

So in the meantime, I am concentrating on securing membership in a club where the entry hurdles are significantly lower: namely, the “I just returned from holiday with awful facial hair club”.

I was recruited almost immediately upon arrival Monday morning by a French guy who had just seen ‘Australia’, and was sporting a beard so inspired by Hugh Jackman that I expected him at any moment to unbutton his shirt, grab some marraccas and start professing that he ‘still calls Australia home’.

The other guy’s beard looked like advanced bumfluff, but he had shaved it around the neck, so I could see he had made some sort of effort to shape it at least.

My own monstrosity was the hideous porn mo I keep flirting with (I just can’t shake it off my face!). Recent comment include:

So anti-sex

Ce n’est pas beau!

Which one of the Village People were you?

Are you going to get that thing off your face by tomorrow?

I see you’re growing a moustache.

And simply, Mario.

Thanks for the support guys.

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One Response to “A club I can be a member of…”

  1. Tom Says:

    I want photos damn it!

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