Well, frankly and Johnny come lately, we don’t give a flying amuse-bouche why Romain Mesnil – Olympic pole-vaulter off-of France – is running through the streets of Paris with no clothes on. Yes, not a snitch. Rien de clothes. Nowt. Nothing. Jack diddly squat.
And thus far we’ve not even mentioned his big stick.
That black box is fucking irritating, mind. Just hovers over his vaulty pole. Is this what we pay our license fee for, hmmmmmmmn?