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translation please for constat amiable d'accident automobile


mint
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I know that this has been posted before (the translation, that is) and I have emailed my insurance agent.

Fact of the matter is, when I have regained my composure and the effects of the rather large alcoholic drink I have poured myself have worn off, I shall be able to read my policy and make sense of it..

In the meantime, I have to admit that I did drive my car into the door of a building which belongs to the mairie of a neighbouring town and I have 'fessed up good and proper.  I have spoken to M le Maire himself and he has promised to ring me tomorrow and meet me "sous la chéne".

No, I didn't kill or even injure anyone.  More than that, I didn't even hit another car.  I didn't dismantle the door of some poor widow, I simply drove rather inexplicably into the door of a public building.  Sorry, further than that I cannot explain!

Horrible thing is, I have a feeling that my car is only on third party insurance [:(]  Ok, Ok, shouldn't have tried to save the miniscule reduction in premium but she is 9 years old and would have been worth next to nothing.  Only, she is MY car (not the OH's) and I take my dog everywhere in her and she WAS immmaculate and beautiful with only some 35K miles on the clock.

Nevermind, as I told OH, if I had to have an accident, it couldn't have been a better one!

So, please just point me to the translation and I shall be able to do the rest.

Thanks in advance. 

 

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Awwww Sweet, are you sure it's not the door that drove into you? Very sorry for your no longer pristine little car, but I'm sure she recovered after that large brandy.

BTW it's "sous LE chene" - unless you meant "sous la chaine"....:-))

I hope you will soon be "remise de tes émotions".
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[quote user="5-element"]Awwww Sweet, are you sure it's not the door that drove into you? Very sorry for your no longer pristine little car, but I'm sure she recovered after that large brandy.

BTW it's "sous LE chene" - unless you meant "sous la chaine"....:-))

I hope you will soon be "remise de tes émotions".[/quote]

sous les chaînes?

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I was thinking of Louis IX (Saint-Louis) holding the court cases under an oak tree.

"sous les chaines" yes that's good too, you can just see Sweet 17 staggering under the weight of those clanking metal chains as she is bound hand and foot to stop her escaping from justice.

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Thank you one and all; nothing like having so-called friends on the Forum, n'est-ce pas?

Actually M le Maire was flirting (conter fleurette) with me and said he'd meet me under the oak tree.  I told him that in fact the woods behind my house was a "pinéde" and that our rendez-vous romantique would have to be in the pinède.

Look, you horrible lot, I've had an accident from which I'm trying to recover (with the aid of copious amounts of alcohol) and I don't need you to make fun of my misfortune.

Mind you, I think M le Maire is un "chiffe-molle" but that's another story and I'm not about to tell you anything about THAT!

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une chiffe-molle (fem even if masc!) indeed LOL. I sent you a nice message and oops, it disappeared. happened a few times lately,

So glad you are safe and nobody is hurt -

Hope you really enjoy your walking holiday at Les Contamines - don't let this spoil this. I learn to day that part of the St J. de Compostelle way DOES go across Switzerland - never knew that.

xxx

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Odile, it was you, you naughty person who taught that naughty word, "chiffe-molle".  But, thank you for your concern.

You've no idea the naughty things that you have taught me in French.  When I use your naughty words in my French class, even the teacher is nonplussed (or is that a French word as well?)

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er, so a wet blanket was flirting with you and you crashed into the door ?

 

So what would be the reaction if a 'insert appropriate phrase for hot and lively person' tried it on ? A full ram raid ?

 

 

Sorry for being part of the horrible lot. Good luck in your resolution.

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Sweet 17 it could have been much worse.  About twenty years ago I was driving late at night through Harare and the then chief of Police inexplicably let me drive into his brand new car in the middle of the main drag.  He was a bit jolly batey and hauled me off the the notorious and very smelly klink.  Fortunately before I got through the front door, presumably never to see the light of day again, my then girlfriend had a little chat with him and I was let off.  She never would tell me what she said ...

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Why is it that you can't tell a story on the Forum without someone getting it all wrong and then embellishing it?

Owens, I didn't speak to the maire before or during  but  after the accident.

JMB, I think you should have hung on to that girlfriend as such resourceful girlfriends are not easy to come by.

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[quote user="5-element"]I was thinking of Louis IX (Saint-Louis) holding the court cases under an oak tree. "sous les chaines" yes that's good too, you can just see Sweet 17 staggering under the weight of those clanking metal chains as she is bound hand and foot to stop her escaping from justice.[/quote]

No, no, it will have to be Henri Quatre as I am quite partial to roast chicken on Sundays as well as other days of the week![:D]

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Have I got my French kings mixed up then? (entirely possible). Henry IV is the one who wanted  "la poule au pot tous les dimanches pour tous". So, boiled hen for us commoners.

- not your luxury, roasted chicken version, that was for the nobility.

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(remember, you made me... [:P])

One Sunday, this peasant came home ravenous, having worked in the fields all morning. He asked his wife what she was cooking for lunch.

On hearing that, being Sunday, it was a poule au pot, he sat down happily at the table.

The following day, he had leftover poule au pot.

On Tuesday, he had leftover veg from the poule au pot.

On Wednesday, he had soup made from the poule au pot.

On Thursday, he had watered-down broth from the poule au pot soup leftovers.

On Friday, he had fish.

On Saturday, he had bread and cheese.

And then it was Sunday again.

Having worked in the fields all morning, he came home ravenous and asked his wife what she was cooking for lunch.

On hearing her reply, he rushed past her, throwing her to the ground and ran out in great fury, brandishing his axe above his head.

She rushed after him, shouting: "Ravaillac, Ravaillac, where are you going? Ravaillac?"

(Henri IV decreed that he wanted "every peasant in [his] kingdom to have boiled chicken on Sundays".

He was killed in Paris on14 May 1610 by François Ravaillac)

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When I was briefly employed driving cash-in-transit vans for Securicor, I once reversed into a pub car park trying to turn. I went too far (no rear mirror) and hit the building, bent the bumper.

Next day I was carpeted by the C-I-T skipper who said I was not allowed in pubs whilst working, especially as I couldn't be bothered to get out of the van.
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