Like many others I watched a lot of swimming last week, and several interviews with Michael Phelps and his mother.
I've been trying to shake the idea that the gangly, misfit, Baltimore-loving heavy-eating Phelps and his larger than life mother are characters out of a John Waters movie, but I just can't. It's too perfect.
(I'm thinking of the feel-good late career Pecker say, rather than Pink Flamingos!)
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