So a collection of us were sitting around last night with my bicycle-loving housemate watching the Tour de France when someone asked the very astute question: 'What happens if you need to go woo woo?'

To which my bicycle-loving housemate replied: 'Well, you've got teammates, right? So one of them rides up beside you and holds on to your handles while you have a slash off the side of the bike.'

'Oh. So what happens if you need to poo?'

'Well, you just do it in your pants.'

'...'

'I mean, you can scoop it out later.'

'...'

'You can hardly stop to have a poo. I mean, this thing is down to microseconds.'

'That really begs the question of why anyone would want to be on the sidelines, then.'

Suddenly I understand the look of pain and determination on the cyclist's faces when they speed towards that yellow jersey.



As a rather massive aside, this video of my favourite fake husband Four Four's cat Winston eating mashed potatoes is making me unreasonably happy.




Also, let it be known that if you make a cheesecake for sweets for dinner one night you may well find yourself devouring the (not inconsiderable) leftovers over the course of the next day. You will then fall into bed feeling like a the tubbiest tub o'lard ever to have eaten too much cream cheese.