French Canadians talk pretty

I have been soaking wet for the last 6 days regardless of weather or not the sun has been shinning, and it is annoying. The humidity is high, the temperature is high and it rains every 47 minutes, on schedule. I have also heard rumors of fine dining opportunities, but so far all I have seen is Poutine, which consists of soggy french fries covered with salty white gravy and squeaky cheese curds. Fine dining at its height I am sure! The bike racing has been good, aside from all of the air particles simultaneously escaping from a hole in my tire on the first lap of the race, I was able to pedal well enough to finish in 58th position after turning lap times that were in the high 20's. I then proceeded to set the fastest lap time at the indoor go cart track we stopped at on the way south to Bromont and thought I had won rights to the king size bed in our VIP suite, but was mistaken. The naked lady painted on the mirror liked Joe Smith, the young Brit with a penchant for going down hill, a bit better than Kris or I and allowed him to win a daring game of skill and chance that was used to determine the final bed allocations. From here on in, time will be spent on my bed with my pants off, the TV on and the AC cranked, awaiting the cataclism of weather that is sure to break onto our heads at any moments and turn the next race in to a flowery box of pain.

Nasty Out