Not only is this strong man strong, he’s strong in French. That’s a whole ‘nother level of strong. You’d know that if you ever rode a French subway. Anyway, I’m sort of on the fence about the stripper sandals and the leather diaper/culottes. I have in my time, however, broken many a wine bottle, so I love this guy’s act. Of course I break my booze bottles when they’re still half full when I reach for them for my eighth cocktail, but the idea is the same. In the same vein, I haven’t had four men stand on me while I lie on a bed of nails, but I did once sleep on a pull out couch with that metal bar in the middle, and my wife had her arm across my neck when I woke up. It’s pretty much the same thing. I’m looking forward to this guy’s next video, when he picks up a thrown newspaper without emitting a loud oof sound when he bends over. That’s a man’s man.
Ah, sorta-spring in the northern climes. You don’t know whether you’re going to need a snow shovel for a late-season dump or a regular shovel for mud season. There’s seems to be a forty-degree difference between sweating in the sunshine and shivering in the shade. One side of your house has icicles, the other has squirrels chewing at the eaves.
That’s the time a young man’s mind turns to snowmobile/Ferrari racing.
Once upon a time, Handsome Squidward built a Sopwith Camel. It was marvelous beyond belief. In less than eight minutes, it transported me back to a time and place of peaceful contentment, toothpicks, Testor’s Pla, and squirrel hair brushes. Then the only German pilot who couldn’t possible shoot down an airplane, or hit anything else for that matter, showed up. The end.
Course I ain’t never been to London, and I ain’t never seen France. And I ain’t never seen no queen in her damned undies, so the feller says. But I’ll tell you what: After seeing camera-equipped drones followin’ motocross bikers, like this here story I’m about to unfold, well, I guess I seen somethin’ every bit as stupefyin’ as you’d seen in any of them other places.