Good old tom pitts limps across the finish at the granfondo prosecco after being dragged around for 6 hours on the wheel of the noshow. Good clean fun despite the fact i exhausted the all american lacross player - the same way a pony express rider would run his horse down to a foaming frothing mangle of sinew. So i sat - taking all the glory - sitting in +27 venetian sunshine - with dancing girls and booth babes open to canadian charms - and the noshow a quivering, spent lump of marblehead muscle.
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