Le Crush

Some time back, I wrote about the pleasing sounds of French anchorwoman, Melissa Theuriau, and her lovely accent. Although my last name is of French ancestry, I can hardly speak a lick of the language. But that doesn't stop me from loving hearing the news as spoken by the beautiful Ms. Theuriau.

Now that I've found several French podcasts for download, I'm certain to fall asleep listening to the language of love with my iPod on my bedside table. It doesn't matter that the speaker may be speaking of anything but love. I'll hear it as I want to hear it. Of course, there's the chance that the podcast of my choosing could be on the topic of something that I would find despicable if I only understood the words. Am I possibly a left-wing American hippie wannabe by day, but subliminally a hard-right French war-monger by slumber? One may never know.

I'll choose to dream of a chance encounter with Ms. Theuriau whereupon she leans in and whispers into my ear, "Monsieur Chez Bez, je pense que votre blog est sexy."*


*Translation: "Mr. Chez Bez, I think your blog is sexy."

[Wanna have fun? I used Google Translate to translate the above to French. Then I translated the French translation back to English.]

A certain back of time, I wrote about the pleasant noises of the French presenter, Theuriau melissa, and his beautiful accent. Although my last name is French ascent, I can hardly speak a licking about the language. But that does not stop me affectionate hearing the news as spoken by beautiful Mrs. Theuriau.

Now that I found several podcasts French for the remote loading, I am sure to fall to listen deadened the language of the love with my iPod on my bedside table. It is not essential that the loudspeaker can be to speak about anything but about the love. I will hear it as I want to hear it. Naturally, it with the chance that the podcast of my choice could be on the matter of something which I would find wretched there if I included/understood only the words. Me am probably an American wannabe of left of hippie per day, but subliminally a French war-salesman hard-right by drowsiness? One can never know.

I will choose with the dream of a fortuitous meeting with Mrs. Theuriau on what it leans in and whispers in my ear, “Mr At Bez, is of blog of your of of thinks of I sexy. “* *Translation: “Mr. At Bez, I think that your blog is sexy. ”