David’s bull

Dear DC,

I gather that you’re going around town trumpetin that come 07 you’d be giddying up on one of them prancing horses!

C’mon David, stop horsin around. Ten years in Eff One’s two winningest teams and all you could manage was one dubious title: “the winningest British grand prix driver.” That’s as good as the consolation prize they gave me in school for playing the king’s barber.

It’s amazing how all those Brit hacks never tire of ravin about you. Let’s face it mate. If not for mechanical failure, it should’ve been Christian on the podium at Monaco. So cut the bull and spare us the Ferrari story.

I mean how many more years would you hold up a seat that some young’un rightfully deserves?

Hard Compound.


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