Boris Beckhah!!!

There is a page here where people can ask Boris Becker, the former tennis giant, questions. A lot are like "Boris, how did you develop your forehand game and what was the pivotal match in your career?"

Well, I refrained from commenting, so I'll do so here instead. "Boris, how was that whore in Bangkok? Was she as expensive as the handlers said she'd be? Hey, what the fuck ever happened with your ex-wife anyway? OOOOHH, reconciled for a whole THREE MONTHS, huh?"

"And how many times did you snort coke with John McEnroe? C'mon, give us THE MONEY. Yo-Yo-Ma, Boris, was your grandfather a Nazi slave-camp guard? AAAH c'mon, how many Jews were . . .uhh . . . "expelled" from your hometown? Tell us truly, dear Boris, we faithful readers want to know."

These are questions I would ask him in person, but only after getting hammered on Neuenschlager (which is pisswater, anyway).

What, troops? Is there a problem? Am I entertaining you sufficiently?