"Leave me alone," says Dominique Strauss-Kahn

Ah. We've all missed him, haven't we?

Who?

Dominique Strauss-Kahn of course.

Since his alleged "philandering" (to put in mildly) in that infamous Sofitel suite in New York back in May 2011, the former head of the International Monetary Fund has only given one interview.

That was with the clearly uncomfortable TF1 news anchor Claire Chazal in September last year when DSK gave a table-thumping performance while brandishing a document "proving" his innocence but also having the temerity to admit he had made a "moral error" - whatever that was supposed to mean.



Since then of course there have been further accusations, such as those of writer and journalist Tristane Banon and investigations into his involvement in hotel sex parties with prostitutes in the northern city of Lille.

His long-suffering and very deep-pocketed wife Anne Sinclair has flown the coop, and the man to whom France must be eternally grateful for the arrival of the gormlessly presidential normal one in office (François Hollande, in case you were wondering), has kept as low a profile as possible given the circumstances.

But now the man the French "affectionately" (really?) refer to as DSK is back - sort of - with an exclusive and all-revealing five-page interview in the weekly news magazine Le Point.

Actually it's not - revealing that is.

Much of what DSK actually tells the magazine has been heard or said before with the exception perhaps that, in almost Greta Garbo-style, DSK launches a plea for the media to leave him alone.

Reach for your handkerchieves everyone as you read the following (paraphrased) extract.

"I no longer play any sort of official public role. I'm not a candidate for anything and I have never been convicted either in this country or any other," he tells Le Point.

"Therefore there's really no reason why the media should be so interested in me and to such an extent it has become almost like a manhunt," he continues, disingenuously to say the least.

"I can no longer stand the fact that the media seems to have given itself the 'right' to violate my privacy in the way it has, just because there have been false allegations made against me and judicial investigations launched.

"I just want to be left alone!"

And yadda yadda yadda.

DSK is probably not the only one - that wishes he would be left alone, that is.

The less coverage, the better.

But just in case you can't get enough and want a great pre-bedtime read with your Horlicks, rush out now to the newsagents to secure your copy of this week's Le Point.

Incomplete political faction - Everything's OK between Martine Aubry and Manuel Valls even after Roma camp closures

So Auntie Barrmy, the perhaps soon-to-be former leader of the Socialist party was on her hols bumbling around the house minding her own business and thinking about how useful spanners could be - politically speaking - when the 'phone rang.

Martine Aubry (screenshot Europe 1 radio)

"Oui. Here is the perhaps soon-to-be former leader of the Socialist party and still mightily peeved prime minister-in-waiting. Who's calling please?" she purred down the 'phone, as was her usual fashion

"Hi Auntie. It's me," squeaked a voice from the other end. "Nasal Vellum, France's minister of the interior (yes you can tell Socialist party members are quickly getting used to their own self importance since adding a majority in the National Assembly elections to that in the Senate, a presidency and a government). I thought I would give you a tinkle just to let you know what I've been up to."

"Thank you Nasal," replied Auntie frostily.

"Where are you today?" she asked through gritted teeth, well aware that since assuming office, Nasal had looked towards one of his infamous Kärcher-cleaning predecessors as a media mentor and was pretty much omnipresent.

Auntie might have been on holiday, but she still read the newspapers and watched TV.

"Well Auntie," he hesitated.

"I've been hither and thither, no time for a break you know. What with my being France's Number One copper, I haven't had a moment to myself. Places to go. People to see. Things to do," he continued.

"Avignon, Marseille, Vars, Villiers-le-Bel, Amiens. Pick a place - any place in France - and I've been there.

"Lille?" hissed Auntie.

"Ah yes Lille...er...I've been meaning to talk to you about that."

At this point it might be worth mentioning that not only is Auntie the perhaps soon-to-be former leader of the Socialist party and prime minister-in-waiting, she has also been the mayor of Lille since 2001.

"Well I was there in July after the shootings outside a discotheque, as you know," began a clearly flustered Nasal.


"Yes I'm aware of that," came the sharp response.

"You met me too."

"Um...yes. Quite."

There was a pause.

Silence, broken only by the sound of Auntie grinding her teeth.

"THE CAMPS," she blasted down the 'phone.

"What the (expression deleted to avoid offending those of a sensitive disposition) do you think you've been up to tearing down Roma camps without telling me first what you were planning?"

"You're as big a fool as that idiot Kärcher-cleaning halfwit," she thundered.

"You know how angry I was after he gave that Grenoble speech in 2010 when he clearly stirred up hatred against the Roma. And you know how I've done everything in my power to ensure they are welcomed as humanely as possible here IN LILLE. I've set up three villages d’insertion and there are another three being built," continued Auntie.

"What have you done? And how come I had to learn what had happened from the media?"

Nasal had expected such an outburst, and he was used to it. After all he knew he was far from being Auntie's favourite aspiring president.

The two of them had come to blows in the past especially as Nasal had served as a faithful lieutenant to one of Auntie's arch enemies - Seggers, in her failed 2007 presidential bid.

And he had thrown his weight behind François Hollande after being knocked out of the Socialist primaries to choose the party's presidential candidate this year.

Hollande, you might remember, went head to head with none other than Auntie in the second round.

So Nasal did what any sensible politician with would do ... he waffled.

"Respect for human dignity is a constant imperative of all public action, but the difficulties and local health risks posed by the unsanitary camps needed to be addressed," said Nasal, quoting his own ministry's official statement.

"In no case did the removals take the form of collective expulsion, which is forbidden by law."

"NASAL. YOU FOOL. YOU SOUND JUST LIKE THE KÄRCHER DOLT," shouted Auntie.

"How do you think the whole thing makes me look and what am I going to say to the media?

Nasal thought a few moments before replying...but that dear reader is where we'll have to leave the two of them for now.

Because, as the French media is reporting, the perhaps soon-to-be former leader of the Socialist party and prime minister-in-waiting is expected to give her official response to Nasal's decision to dismantle two makeshift Roma camps near Lille some time this week.

How exactly she'll manage to make it look as though she's not in complete disagreement with the manner in which the camps were closed will be a monumental feat.

But as a seasoned and more than competent politician, she should be well up to the task.

In the meantime, Nasal isn't at all concerned apparently, insisting that everything is more or less hunky dory between the two of them.



Friends?

Well maybe not quite.

Which of course provides the excuse for a song - as if one were needed - with, among others, the sublime Gladys.

A kiss of joy - French striker Olivier Giroud plants one on teammate Mathieu Debuchy

There's no more emotional way of showing feelings than a kiss - is there?

Well not if you happen to be a football player where kissing a fellow player could be misinterpreted.

After all there's something of a taboo surrounding homosexuality in the so-called Beautiful Game, and although Uefa has thrown its weight behind national campaigns to stamp out homophobia, most would agree there's still a lot of work that needs to be done.

Just last month for example, Uefa was urged to take action over Real Madrid manager José Mourinho's apparent homophobic slur before his side's Champions League match against CSKA Moscow.

But that's all rather an aside to an event that occurred last week during a friendly international between Germany and France.

It concerned the 25-year-old Ligue 1 Montpellier striker Olivier Giroud, making only his third appearance for Les Bleus in a game which would see him score his first international goal.

Giroud netted the ball after another relative newcomer to the team, Mathieu Debuchy a 26-year old midfielder from the current French champions Lille, passed to him.

Olivier Giroud kisses teammate Mathieu Debuchy (screenshot ZDF television)

And what happened next was a clear show of camaraderie and excitement as the two men shared a full-on smacker.

Well from the camera angle it seemed to be more Giroud kissing Debuchy than the other way round.

It was a moment which, while it left the German commentators completely unfazed - as you can tell (if you speak the language) they just kept on talking, wondering how Germany would react...to the goal that is - seems to have plenty of "tongues wagging" on the Net.

Some of the headlines and comments were perhaps only to be expected and included phrases such as "French kissing" (yawn) or "Gay celebration" (even bigger yawn).

But any idea that the gesture was anything other than a complete expression of joy, especially on the part of Giroud, are surely wildly exaggerated.

Kissing another man in France - or in much of mainland Europe come to that - doesn't have the same sort of schoolboy-giggly innuendo it might have in say the United States or Britain.

It's just...well "normal" for want of a better word and definitely acceptable.

No big deal really and quite endearing - n'est-ce pas?

By the way, France won the friendly 2-1.

Fighting homophobia - the French "kiss-in" goes international

After the success here in France of the previous kiss-in against homophobia in September, the idea is going international.

At four o'clock on Saturday afternoon (December 12), couples - gay and straight - in 19 cities and towns around France are invited to lock lips for five minutes, or simply hold hands if they're a little less demonstrative, in a simultaneous show of affection.

And for the first time they'll be joined by similar actions planned abroad in Belgium, Switzerland, Canada, Australia and Peru.

The idea is a straightforward one, as Arthur Vauthier, one of those behind the idea which first took place at the foot of the Eiffel Tower in June this year, said in a recent interview with the monthly French gay magazine, Têtu.

It's not meant to be a demonstration of gay pride with banners and flags, but a sign of tolerance and that same-sex couples don't need to feel embarrassed or ashamed when displaying affection in public.

"The starting point for the whole idea was the simple observation that there's often hesitancy among same-sex couples to show their fondness for one another in public," he said

"That's a result partially of the possible reaction from other people, but also a degree of internalised fear," he continued.

"Our idea is to trivialise the gesture by saying, 'kiss wherever you want to because it doesn't interfere with others and it also doesn't embarrass us'."

The first kiss-in, organised in Paris in June, may only have attracted a few couples, but it was quickly followed by a similar event a month later in Dijon, and in September more French towns and cities including Marseille, Lyon and Lille had joined in.

Social media sites have helped spread the word with more than 3,000 members signing up to the Facebook group "Kiss-in contre l'homophobie !" and of course there's a blog giving a list of where and when the next kiss-ins are planned.

As for the future, Vauthier hopes it'll become an annual event nationally, with various locations being chosen - at least in the capital where perhaps same-sex couples have fewer inhibitions.

"In other French towns and cities it's normal that these sorts of events will take places which are busy," he says.

"As far as Paris, we really must go where we really need to be accepted - so why not at some point the suburbs," he suggests.

If you're interested in taking part, a full list of where and when can be found here.

Why numbers matter in France

What's in a number? Well quite a lot in France it appears if the latest figures released for car registration plates here are to be believed.

In order of popularity the French have plumped for the following numbers to be included on their car licence plates: 69, 59, 13, 31 and 33

For any of this to make sense there are a couple of things that probably need explaining.

First up France is divided into 100 départements (let's stick to the French spelling with that accent and extra "e" just for the sake of it) or if you like administrative districts.

While four of them are overseas, the other 96 are in what's called here "Metropolitan France" and they're all numbered more or less alphabetically (if that makes any sense) from Ain (01) to Yonne (89).

After that it gets a little confusing because Territoire de Belfort is 90 and 91-95 were created in the 1960s when the area around Paris was rejigged.

Anyway, since 1950 car registration plates have carried the number of the département in which the owner lives.

And over time it has become something of a badge of pride for many. If you lived in Paris - then your car had 75 at the end of its licence plate. Nice (Alpes-Maritimes) - 06, Marseille (Bouches-du-Rhône) - 13, Lyon (Rhône) - 69 and so on and so forth. For a full list (should you be interested) click here.

But that system changed this year - the fear being that there simply wouldn't be enough numbers to go around.

New cars now carry a registration composed of two letters - three numbers - two letters, something along the lines of AA-123-AA.

A space is also made available for a département number to be displayed. It isn't actually part of the car's registration, instead it's left up to the owner to choose which number appears.

But the choice has to be a judicious one as it's for life (of the owner). In other words drivers keep the licence plate even if they change vehicles or move départements.

Initially introduced just for new cars, the system is now being extended to second-hand cars as of October 15.

So back to those figures and the apparent popularity of certain départements over others.

Well since April 15 there have been two million new vehicles registered and at the moment according to government statistics the number of choice for those not actually living in the département which under the old system would have appeared on the plate is 69 or Rhône, of which the major city is Lyon.

That's followed by 59 (Nord, major city Lille), 13 (Bouches-du-Rhône, Marseille), 31 (Haute-Garonne, Toulouse) and 33 (Gironde, Bordeaux).

Meanwhile heading the list in which purchasers of new cars have so far preferred to opt for numbers outside of the département in which they live are 92, Hauts-de-Seine and 75, Paris.

Of course that could all change once second-hand cars start carrying the new plates.

But for the moment the figures seem to suggest that the affinity the French have with a region perhaps from which they originate is still pretty strong and the simple pleasure and apparent symbolism of being identified (or wishing to be so) with a part of the country other than the one in which they might live, still matters.