Offramp wrote:

Oh God!!
The people who go to Borough market on Saturday!

Man to child:
"Alexander Alexander ! Time for LUNCH Alexander ! Ou est le fromage
Alexander? Ou est le fromage? Time for LUNCH. LUNCH!! LUNCH
Alexander!!!!!!"

Eeek! Too close to home!

Was in Fes, Morocco. Sitting on the windowsill of the hotel watching the
birds in the olive and palm trees. Eating some Chaumes we'd just purchased.
Went to rip open the bag and it slipped out of my hands, down into the
bushes below.... saw the door staff watch it fall.

Ran downstairs, door staff standing impassionatly, "Ou est moi fromage?" i
asked in best schoolboy French. Not a movement, not a flicker ....

So i dived into the bushes, discovered it floating, still in the bag, in a
small ornamental pond. "Ici moi fromage!" i exclaimed, holding up the
dripping bag... pulling the twigs out of my hair...

Still thay just looked on... with a "Bloody crazy these Brits!" look on
their faces..

No idea why but it became the catch phrase of the holiday. "Ou est moi
fromage?" would reduce us to a puddle of laughter.

Les

--
Remove Frontal Lobes to reply direct.

"These people believe the souls of fried space aliens inhabit their
bodies and hold soup cans to get rid of them. I should care what they
think?"...Valerie Emmanuel

Les Hemmings a.a #2251 SA