by Philip van Bergen

In exchange for allowing me to watch the French and British Grands Prix, Wimbledon and the British Lions tour of NZ (didn’t they do badly?), I had to allow my girlfriend to watch the Tour de France. Wish I hadn’t now. I’d rather watch an award winning Polish cartoon. Dire stuff. How anyone can obtain pleasure from this spectacle is beyond comprehension.

Another hour of it this evening. Oh well, where’s the scotch?

Is there no God? Obviously not!