Why we hate the French

They bottle bath-water and call it Perrier
They eat poor froggie’s legs then throw the rest away
They eat raw garlic and invented croquet
That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French

They all wear berets and they’re all called Jacques,
They even steal from us the words they lack
Le weekend, Le Camping and cul de sac
That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French.

 

And All their songs sound more or less the same
La la la la la la la la………je t’aime
France’s existence is such a shame
That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French.

They bake their bread in such a naughty shape
They brag about their wine and worship the grape
They criticise our food but then they eat loads of crepe
That’s why I hate the French,

 That’s why I hate the French.

And now they started coming here in their droves
French cigarettes, French letters and French clothes
That prick Van Gough cut off his own earlobes

 

That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French.

For breakfast they have croissant or French toast
And there’s always some French letters in the post

But it’s their accent that I hate the most

That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French.

They’re pretty cocky ’bout their games in the dark’
They think with girls they light a special spark
Look what the bastards did to Joan of Arc
That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French,
That’s why I hate the French.

And that’s why we hate the French

A great parody by Rowan Atkinson from the 1980s explains why the British ( and how everyone else should ) hate the French- and here’s another reason why………….what if someone was suffering from a pigment disorder and couldn’t have any sun on their skin at all? The French wouldn’t allow them to swim? or if someone was scarred from head to toe in burns? Their embarassment wouldn’t count for anything?

A Muslim woman who tried to go swimming in a head-to-toe “burquini” has been banned from her local pool in the latest tussle between religious practices and secular authority in France.
Officials on Wednesday insisted they banned the woman’s use of the Islam-friendly swimsuit because of France’s unusually strict hygiene standards in pools – not because of official hostility to wearing overtly Muslim garb.
Under the policy, swimmers are prevented from wearing any street-compatible or baggy clothing, such as Bermuda shorts, in favour of figure-hugging suits.
The woman, a 35-year-old convert to Islam identified only as Carole, complained of religious discrimination after trying to go swimming in her burquini in the Paris suburb of Emerainville.
She was quoted as telling the daily Le Parisien newspaper that she had bought the burquini after deciding “it would allow me the pleasure of bathing without showing too much of myself, as Islam recommends.”

“For me this is nothing but segregation,” she added.

Les Fleurs du mal

Le Soleil

Le long du vieux faubourg, où pendent aux masures
Les persiennes, abri des sécrètes luxures,
Quand le soleil cruel frappe à traits redoublés
Sur la ville et les champs, sur les toits et les blés,
Je vais m’exercer seul à ma fantasque escrime,
Flairant dans tous les coins les hasards de la rime,
Trébuchant sur les mots comme sur les pavés
Heurtant parfois des vers depuis longtemps rêvés.

Ce père nourricier, ennemi des chloroses,
Eveille dans les champs les vers comme les roses;
II fait s’évaporer les soucis vers le ciel,
Et remplit les cerveaux et les ruches le miel.
C’est lui qui rajeunit les porteurs de béquilles
Et les rend gais et doux comme des jeunes filles,
Et commande aux moissons de croître et de mûrir
Dans le coeur immortel qui toujours veut fleurir!

Quand, ainsi qu’un poète, il descend dans les villes,
II ennoblit le sort des choses les plus viles,
Et s’introduit en roi, sans bruit et sans valets,
Dans tous les hôpitaux et dans tous les palais.

— Charles Baudelaire