Napper’s Delight

Being French myself by birth, I take great joy in making flagrant shows of affection and artistic admiration for anything with a Gallic accent, worthy or not, while shunning the products of the land of my upbringing (you couldn’t really call it a civilization, more of an agglomeration of strip malls); it’s called Being French. And, being French, I found this delightful although I sneer at the need for a English translation. Everyone knows rap is the universal language.

Unlike stinky cheese, Gauloise-and-armagnac-scented singers of limited aesthetic appeal and significant overbites, and a flagrant appreciation of the artistry of Jerry Lewis, I think you will find this particular product of old Gaul somewhat less galling and substantially more delightful. Behold the roller babies of Evian:

If it actually worked that way, I think I’d chug a case. I have dégueulasse white femme’s rhythm.