Père Lachaise Cemetery’s Victor Noir regularly receives posthumous hand jobs from the average public but the exquisite Dita VonTeese is not average and when it comes to sexy…she’s in a class by herself. A shame her smoldering grind didn’t take place in 1869! Victor Noir was only 21 when he died back in 1870. He was a hard-working political reporter who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He was murdered just as he began to forge a reputation for exposing political corruption in the halls of power while simultaneously developing a reputation with the ladies of Paris for his talents in the bedroom. Word among his bedmates was that he was very well endowed and he knew how to use his endowments to mutual satisfaction.
Victor Noir is the perfect name for a hungry young journalist by day and energetic sex-machine by night. As a hungry young journalist, Victor spent his days wrapping his brain around the complex infighting of politicians, and wrapping his body around the beautiful women of Paris in at night.
Noir wrote for La Revanche, and that newspaper was particularly critical of Napoleon I, who had been traditionally off-limits to criticism—that is, if a paper wanted to stay in business. In retaliation for a Noir article, Prince Pierre Bonaparte, the great-nephew of the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, and cousin of the then-ruling Emperor Napoleon III sent a letter to La Revanche editor Paschal Grousset, calling him a traitor.
After silence from Grousset Prince Bonaparte wrote an escalating letter “After having outraged each of my relations, you insult me with the pen of one of your menials. My turn has to come. Only I have an advantage over others of my name, of being a private individual, while being a Bonaparte…I therefore ask you whether your inkpot is guaranteed by your breast…I live, not in a palace, but at 59 Rue d’Auteuil. I promise to you that if you present yourself, you will not be told that I left.”
Upon receipt of that letter, Grousset sent Victor Noir and Ulrich de Fonvieille, another paper employee as his ‘seconds’ to fix the terms of a duel with Bonaparte. What neither young man understood was that as ‘seconds’ they were supposed to go speak to Bonaparte’s ‘seconds’ and hash out a plan for Grousset and Bonapart to duel. Unfortunately Victor and Ulrich presented themselves to the furious Prince Bonaparte personally. They presented Prince Bonaparte with a letter signed by Grousset which whipped Bonaparte into a complete tantrum. According to Ulrich, Prince Bonaparte slapped him in the face and then shot Noir dead. In court Prince Bonaparte took an oath that he’d defended himself against the two and that version was accepted by the court.
Eclipsing that story is the fact that when undertakers laid Victor out to prepare him for the funeral, his lifeless body had achieved an enormous erection.
Visitors to Père Lachaise Cemetery will see that the sculpture on Victor’s grave is a beautiful replica of him as he would have laid dead in the street in his finest suit with his hat fallen beside him. The sculptor paid homage to his virility by unbuttoning his pants and lovingly rendering his erection beneath the fabric. Myth has it that if you want to achieve improved orgasms, you should rub his penis as sort of a talisman. If you want to find a beautiful lover, you should kiss his lips, if you want to get pregnant, just touch his right foot, if you want to have twins, touch his left foot.
Will you come to pay your respect to someone so full of the lust for life and truth who died so young? Will you touch Victor? Apparently Dita took the rubbing part of the myth to heart, the folklore doesn’t dictate what you’re supposed to rub his penis with exactly, so perhaps it’s only less imaginative people who use their hands.
See you there!