Ah la Belle France.
We in the twisted SPoke command car drove the entire race course today and once again it was a distinct pleasure.
Probably more of a pleasure for me than those guys in the lycra trying to get over the Pyrenees to Paris.
Before the hors categorie climb of the Port du Pailheres, we saw this hard- to-miss group of cheerleaders. Yes, they have them in France but they were sweeter and they had nice French accents and asked if they could wash my laundry by hand and pour me champagne.
I think, maybe they didn’t.
You have to learn this line:
Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?
Or at least this:
Souhaitez-vous faire ma lessive pour moi? S’il vous plaît.