{"id":82909,"date":"2011-04-26T00:50:02","date_gmt":"2011-04-25T22:50:02","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.lemouching.com\/old\/2011\/04\/le-sale-con-a-dumb-jerk\/"},"modified":"2011-04-26T00:50:02","modified_gmt":"2011-04-25T22:50:02","slug":"le-sale-con-a-dumb-jerk","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lemouching.com\/en\/2011\/04\/le-sale-con-a-dumb-jerk\/","title":{"rendered":"LE SALE CON – A DUMB JERK"},"content":{"rendered":"

(ENGLISH VERSION)<\/a> Je \u00a0l’ai tout de suite vu, l’enfoir\u00e9. Du pont. Il avait de l’eau jusqu’en haut de ses horribles cuisses bovines. Une chemise hawa\u00efenne rouge avait du mal \u00e0 couvrir son estomac velu et de son bob blanch\u00e2tre d\u00e9passaient des m\u00e8ches grasses. Mais \u00e7a, c’est rien ! Le plus grave va venir. Il p\u00eachait A LA CUILLERE sur MON spot, l\u00e0, juste derri\u00e8re la petite chute d’eau en aval.\"\"<\/a> Quand je dis MON spot, il serait plus juste de dire que je le partageais avec deux amis, Henri et Tom. Bien s\u00fbr, il n’y avait pas de panneaux \u00ab propri\u00e9t\u00e9 priv\u00e9 \u00bb mais, quasiment tous les p\u00eacheurs de la r\u00e9gion \u00e9taient au courant et respectaient cet endroit exceptionnel. En deux mots, la raison, la voici. C’est Tom qui l’avait d\u00e9nich\u00e9 le premier. Ce trou \u00e9tait hant\u00e9 par une truite, une truitasse de r\u00eave. Une grosse fario magnifique. Des points rouges comme les feux arri\u00e8res d’un camion Mack, des l\u00e8vres charnues comme celle d’une actrice de films pornos (c’est d’ailleurs pour \u00e7a qu’on l’avait baptis\u00e9 ” Nina” en l’honneur de Nina Roberts<\/a>) et des nageoires orang\u00e9es, larges comme des mains de b\u00e9b\u00e9. En bref, un animal quasi mythique \u00a0que nous adorions.\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Tom l’avait d’abord captur\u00e9 sur une imitation de sauterelles et l’avait bien s\u00fbr remise \u00e0 l’eau. Puis, trois semaines apr\u00e8s, ce fut le tour d’Henri \u00a0de la \u00a0leurrer avec une \u00e9mergente. Et le mois suivant, je la choppai avec une imitation de scarab\u00e9e. Nina nous faisait quand m\u00eame dr\u00f4lement la gueule \u00e0 chaque fois qu’on l’attrapait. On pouvait facilement deviner qu’elle nous insultait dans la langue des truites : \u00ab Vous n’avez pas fini de me faire chier, bande d’emmerdeurs ! Trouvez \u00e7a marrant ?<\/em> \u00bb Mais comme on la remettait sagement \u00e0 l’eau, Nina ne se plaignait jamais bien longtemps. Et \u00e7a faisait deux ans que \u00e7a durait, ce man\u00e8ge . Elle s’\u00e9tait fait prendre au moins une douzaine de fois.<\/p>\n

Jusqu’\u00e0 ce jour o\u00f9 l’enfoir\u00e9 \u00e0 chemise rouge… imm\u00e9diatement j’appelai Henri sur mon portable. Que je vous mette au courant. Henri est un type d\u00e9licieux . Difficile de se f\u00e2cher avec lui. Il n’a qu’un seul d\u00e9faut de taille, c’est celui d’adorer chanter. Pas grave me direz-vous ? Sauf que vous n’avez jamais entendu Henri chanter. Toutes les tortures chinoises, les bambous sous les ongles et m\u00eame la goutte d’eau sur le sommet du cr\u00e2ne sont des d\u00e9lices \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d’Henri et de sa guitare. D\u00e8s qu’il se met \u00e0 pincer une corde, c’est un avant-go\u00fbt de l’enfer, un appel au meurtre. \u00a0\u00ab All\u00f4, Henri… vient vite avec ta guitare, il y a un encul\u00e9 qui cherche \u00a0des mis\u00e8res \u00e0 Nina… grouille-toi… emergency !<\/em> \u00bb M\u00eame pas une minute plus tard, il s’asseyait sur un rocher \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 du salopard et se mit \u00e0 assassiner J’entends siffler le train<\/em>. \"\"<\/a>D\u00e9j\u00e0, dans les ann\u00e9es 60, quand c’\u00e9tait le c\u00e9l\u00e8bre Richard Anthony qui chantait \u00e7a, c’\u00e9tait duraille \u00a0mais avec Henri et sa guitare, m\u00eame les cigales se bouchaient les oreilles. On frisait l’apocalypse.<\/p>\n

On voyait bien que que “la saloperie” et sa canne a lancer avait du mal \u00e0 accuser le coup. Une dr\u00f4le d’esp\u00e8ce de raideur dans la nuque… mais, il \u00e9tait coriace, ” la pourriture” et n’\u00e9tait pas pr\u00eat \u00e0 baisser les bras. Alors, j’appelais Tom. Tom a trois gosses qui peuvent passer en un rien de temps de l’\u00e9tat de moutons b\u00ealants \u00e0 celui de meute de chiens sauvages. \u00ab Am\u00e8ne tes gosses en vitesse, Tom et dis leur de se baigner l\u00e0 o\u00f9 cette esp\u00e8ce de porc cherche des mis\u00e8res \u00e0 Nina.<\/p>\n

Pas cinq minutes plus tard, le type pliait boutique et Nina \u00e9tait sauv\u00e9e du cong\u00e9lateur. Le lendemain soir, Henri nous \u00a0racontait qu’il \u00e9tait pass\u00e9 vers 18h00 au bord de la rivi\u00e8re , qu’il avait vu Nina et qu’elle lui avait souri avec ses grosses l\u00e8vres si sexy. Mais, peut-on faire cr\u00e9dit aux histoires d’Henri, lui qui pourrait les yeux band\u00e9s retrouver le chemin de la cave vinicole. Toujours est-il que depuis ce jour, Nina a fait ses valises . On ne peut pas lui en vouloir, mais avec qui on va jouer, maintenant\u00a0hein ? REVIENS, NINA ! On te jure ! On ne mettra m\u00eame plus d’hame\u00e7ons \u00e0 nos mouches ! !!\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I saw him right away. The jerk: Dupont. He was in the water right up to his cow-like thighs. The red Hawaiian shirt barely covering his big hairy stomach and his greasy hair flailing beyond of his white cap. But that was nothing; the worst was yet to come. He was fishing with A SPOON on MY spot, right there, downstream, behind the little rapid.When I say MY spot it would be more accurate to say OUR spot, I share it with my two friends Henri and Tom.\u00a0 Of course we don’t post any “private property’ signs, but practically all the fishermen in the area know and respect this exceptional spot. Briefly here’s the story: the first to discover the pool was Tom; it was haunted by a trout, a dream trout. A huge, magnificent wild trout; red spots like tailights on a Mack Truck; thick pouty lips like a porno star (in fact that’s why we baptised her “Nina” in honor of Nina Roberts) and orange fins as large as a baby’s hand. In other words the “mythical trout” that we all adore.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tom was the first to catch and release her on an imitation grasshopper. Then, three weeks later, it was Henri’s turn to raise her with an nymph. The following month I brought her in on an imitation beetle.\u00a0 Each time that we caught her, Nina was clearly offended. It was easy to imagine her insulting us in trout language: “Can’t you stop pissing\u00a0 me off, you lousy bunch of assholes! You think it’s funny?” But we always carefully released her into her waters and Nina didn’t complain for long. This went on for two years, this relationship. We must have taken her at least a dozen times.<\/span><\/p>\n

Until the day that the asshole in his red shirt…<\/span><\/p>\n

right away I called Henri on my cell phone. Let me bring you up to snuff on Henri; Henri is an absolutely delicious guy. It’s impossible to be annoyed with Henri, he only has one fault; he loves to sing. What’s wrong with that you say; well you’ve never heard Henri sing. All the chinese tortures with bamboo under the fingernails or waterboarding is a picnic compared to Henri with his guitar. The minute that he begins to pick on a cord it’s a taste of hell; a call to murder.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Hello, Henri… Come quickly with your guitar, there’s an asshole who’s trying to fuck Nina… hurry, it’s an emergncy!\u00a0 In less than a minute he was sitting on a rock next to the jerk and commenced to murder “I hear the train whistle blowing”. In the 60’s when the celebrated Richard Anthony sang the song it was already difficult to tolerate, but with Henri and his guitar, even the cicadas blocked their ears. One felt the apocalypse at hand.\"\"<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

It was clear that the jerk was having trouble continuing to fish, trouble ignoring the assault. But he maintained himself with a funny kind of stiffness… he was a tough one, this ‘piece of garbage” but wasn’t ready to give up. So I called Tom. Tom has 3 children who, in the blink of an eye, can change from cuddly sheep to wild, savage canines. “Quick Tom, bring your kids and get here as fast as you can; get them in the river next to this pig who is making Nina miserable.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Five minutes later the guy folded, put away his equipment and Nina was saved from the freezer. The next evening Henri told us that he passed THE SPOT around 6 o’clock and saw Nina who smiled at him with her big sexy lips.\u00a0 Well, perhaps we can chalk up the stories of Henri to the fact that it’s possible for him, blindfolded, to find the nearest bar in an unknown city. Anyway it’s a fact that since that day Nina seems to have packed up and left; no one has seen her. You can’t blame her, but who do we play with now?<\/span><\/p>\n

NINA, COME BACK!\u00a0 We swear, we promise, we’ll never, ever, use hooks on our flies.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

(ENGLISH VERSION) Je \u00a0l’ai tout de suite vu, l’enfoir\u00e9. Du pont. Il avait de l’eau jusqu’en haut de ses horribles cuisses bovines. Une chemise hawa\u00efenne rouge avait du mal \u00e0 couvrir son estomac velu et de son bob blanch\u00e2tre d\u00e9passaient des m\u00e8ches grasses. Mais \u00e7a, c’est rien ! Le plus grave va venir. Il p\u00eachait A LA CUILLERE sur MON spot, l\u00e0, juste derri\u00e8re la petite chute d’eau en aval. Quand je dis MON spot, il serait plus juste de […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[15854,15849],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-82909","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-el-mouching","category-nature"],"yoast_head":"\nLE SALE CON - A DUMB JERK - Le Mouching<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/lemouching.com\/en\/2011\/04\/le-sale-con-a-dumb-jerk\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"LE SALE CON - A DUMB JERK - Le Mouching\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"(ENGLISH VERSION) Je \u00a0l’ai tout de suite vu, l’enfoir\u00e9. 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Du pont. Il avait de l’eau jusqu’en haut de ses horribles cuisses bovines. Une chemise hawa\u00efenne rouge avait du mal \u00e0 couvrir son estomac velu et de son bob blanch\u00e2tre d\u00e9passaient des m\u00e8ches grasses. Mais \u00e7a, c’est rien ! Le plus grave va venir. Il p\u00eachait A LA CUILLERE sur MON spot, l\u00e0, juste derri\u00e8re la petite chute d’eau en aval. 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