I'm especially pleased today to turn my Guilty Pleasure post over to the sassy sexy Jacqueline. I love turning these posts over to authors and guest bloggers because I never know what they'll come up with.
Last summer, I spent a few days in Paris.
Have you been there? It’s a must-see
city. Very French (of course), stylish, great streets to wander and the River
Seine is just around every corner. If you are grabbing lunch on the go, slow
down at one of the many cafe/bars and order a salad. They don’t cost much more
than a horrible hot-dog at home, and they are really tasty. Order a beer or a
glass of wine while you’re at it. Why
not? You’re on holiday, remember?
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| Image from Wikipedia, Eiffel Tower |
A few years ago, I lived and worked in
Paris for a few months. I can’t say I know the city after such a short time,
but I did find my way around the Metro and travelled all over the centre. The
work I was doing was in a laboratory. Hard work and long hours, but irregular. That meant I often had afternoons off, and
could wander around. I got to see a lot that tourists would probably rush by.
Of course, what you absolutely HAVE to do
in Paris is visit the museums and galleries. They have such a selection of fine
art – you’d need lifetimes to absorb it all. For paintings, I love the gallery
in the old railway station at Quai d’Orsay – fantastic!
And then there’s the Louvre, a unique
depository of art. I have mixed feelings about the place. So big, and it’s run
like a ware-house. Very little in the way of explanation to each exhibit. You
are left to wander along miles and miles of corridors, passing treasure after
treasure and not really appreciating what you see.

Still, you can’t be snarky about the art
itself. Venus de Milo lives there, and Mona Lisa (good luck seeing her, unless
you’re very tall and see over the crowds
of admirers. She’s only tiny, too.)
So what’s the guilty pleasure? Well, I
can’t stare at the male statues without drooling. Those beautifully muscled
bodies, larger than life, the smooth round bums in translucent marble - wow,
I’m getting goose pimples just thinking about them. The other side might be a
little interesting too, but I have to say the Ancient Greeks were not very
gifted in that department, or perhaps the statues were carved on a very cold
day.
There are lots of female statues, of
course, and very fine ones too. Lots of plump female bottoms, but they are not
what catches my eye. No, I stop and leer at the masculine ones.
Sculpting was a male preserve and I can
just imagine the old artists in their ateliers, running their hands over those
smooth, voluptuous curves. (I’m talking about the statues here, not the models.)
Now, that’s a point. I wonder if the particularly fine representations of male
bottoms were done by artists who really
appreciated their subject. I’m betting they were.
By the way, when you’re tired of Parisian
museums, try visiting some of the gay beaches on Greece’s Mediterranean islands.
You’ll find some of the modern Greeks don’t look so bad either.
Tell me, admit it. Men's butts do it for you too.




