the Lord has wined, dined, soaked up enough culture to last Him a good few lifetimes and smoked enough slim cigarettes to make the Marlboro man look so last decade. Only one thing left for Him to do in this magical city – spend an obscene amount of cash (yes, CASH. Not cards because cash is truly king). Where better to do this than the magical Avenue des Champs-Élysées, with its luxury speciality boutiques and the rows of pretty clipped horse chestnut trees?
Got a bit of traditional French leather love. Even the ladybirds in France have good taste.
The Lord got paparazzi-ed when He posed for a snap with the famous Arc de Triomphe. The celeb life can be so hard.
He is France personified. Beautiful, androgynous, dressed in nothing but The Kooples, skinny and a slick slick waxed chest. Jesus LOVES His Frenchies.
He had to stop to have some homemade gelato to cool Him down after His visit to The Kooples. 3 cones! He gave them a good lick and decided it was too good to spit. A definite swallow.
He’ll be back for He has fallen in love with His own masterpiece. Au revoir Paris!
a trip to the Louvre is not complete without viewing the Mona Lisa.
He was glad for the clear directions. Anticipate needs!
He parted the sea of Chinese, Japanese, Korean and American tourists with ease to get the best spot in front.
He was most impressed with the painting of His chai walla. They obviously left out the tattoo.
The scribes got it wrong! There is a gay quarter in Heaven! Perfectly depicted here. 2 levels of beauty in oils. Lots of abs, easy access cloth and plenty of cuddling.
GTL. This was clearly recognised in the early days. Gym so you have a fit bod to pose naked, Tan – pasty is never in fashion, unless you’re a ginger in denial, Laundry – no one likes to see that He has been less than kind. Keep small members under wraps.
The Louvre takes 312 hours to cover. He needed a break from all this culture and some of them were repeats hanging in His local pub so he couldn’t be bothered to act impressed. So he went for a breather, to drink His blood and have a fag.
He was enraged to see that they hadn’t invited Him to join them.
And the woman didn’t even meet the usual standards. Have standards. Raise the bar and keep it high.
the Lord made his way through all the great pieces of sculptured art. He stopped to marvel at a great pair of legs and an ample bosom more than once. His masterpieces deserve a lingering second look. Damn those inappropriately dressed American tourists!!!
The only gender giveaway. And it’s subtle.
Who needs the Creation of Adam? Move over Michelangelo. I am the new black.
the Lord is all psyched up for the art at the Lourve! There’s too much to cram into this resurrection, so He has done his best and purchased a 3 day pass.
The mandatory pyramid photo. Yet another icon in Phallic Paris!
He cut the queue that stretched forever to get in. Purchase your tickets online. He has given you the gift of the Internet!
He was pleased to see many of His subjects soaking in the culture.
Like any experienced traveller, He got a map and planned is route of attack! The main aim – to see the Mona Lisa! He’s always been intrigued why Leo painted that smug bitch.
He grabbed a quick drink and was appalled by the lack of alcoholic beverages!!! The French should stay true to themselves and sell some wine! Art is best appreciated under the influence (you may read into that).
Tomorrow His Holiness admires the beauty of the sculptures and tries to answer the eternal question, “Why are their dicks so small???”
the Lord has decided all the excitement of the last few days is a bit much. Today He takes it slow and just soaks up the atmosphere in the glorious city with a wander in an antiques market and a quick visit to Musée de Cluny (National Modern Age Museum) in anticipation of His visit to the Louvre. Taking it slow – cultural foreplay!
The Messiah loves how even the art depicts Parisians as androgynous beauties!
Love how his suffering is depicted in gold. Blinging!
He doesn’t remember getting Himself into such situations and blames it on the cross-eyed tavern owner who said the wine was on the house.
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow. Everybody needs a bosom.