Oh, I say, ra-ther! Why not? Nothing like a spot of “Le Vice Anglais” to liven up proceedings, eh? (Interestingly enough, on my jaunts across the pond, I’ve always found plenty a Yank to Spank. Such lively fillies, wonderful sports. I dare say my handprints are still on some of those beautiful bums. I do take as well as give, but they aren’t so good at dishing it out as Miss Strict over here.)
Aha, two of those minor difficulties (the American spat and the Exocet thingy) were caused by the French, our favourite foe. Actually, three, if you consider their early surrender in the last big match in Europe.
In defence of the OP, it’s our traditional week of Summer - cloudless skies, blistering heat, hosepipe bans and shirtless lard-arses sitting in beer gardens getting burned to a crisp. We are soooooo deliriously happy, it looks like we are going to get the full 7 days of Summer this year, (as opposed to getting 5 days in April, like last year), before normal service is resumed and it pisses down with cold rain until October, so some of us are inclined to act like Mad Dogs…
Oh, and I’ve been around the world, but NOTHING compares to the pleasure of sitting in the shade by a sluggish river, deep in the green English countryside, sipping a cold drink whilst swifts scream overhead and your dog snaffles your sandwiches. (It’s just other English people that spoil it… :p)
;), nod nod.