Traveling with Mr. Golden Underwear.
We spent the day in Cherbourg, France, which was an important battle in WWII. Whatever germs have been having their own WWIII in my belly have begun their retreat down colon hill. Sure, the soldiers in WWII were tremendously brave, but I think I exemplified bravery over adversity sightseeing, while experiencing that rumble down below without knowing whether a loo would present itself at the opportune time. In preparation for the Singapore Summit with Kim Jong Un and the Orange Menace, Scott has found us a suitable bunker to live out our days, when things go south.
Tonight, on the ship, they had the White Party. At first, I thought it was a reference to the demographic of passengers onboard, but it referred only to their attire. On to Normandy…
Rubber Chicken 