Honey, I Shat the Yacht Bed: F1, Coke 'n' Hookers In Monaco

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From the "something that will most likely never happen to us" file, here's a tidbit from popbitch sent in by our pal Cole Coonce, who once rode his bicycle to Harper's Ferry:

Every year at the Monaco Grand Prix, a luxury yacht weighs anchor in the harbour and acts as a brothel for the drivers. One of the crew members recently revealed his favourite story.

A couple of years ago, a recently retired F1 favourite disappeared into a suite with two hookers, but asked the crew to watch his phone as he was expecting a call. His wife was in hospital in labour. When the phone rang, a crew member duly took the phone into the suite to find the bed covered in shit. The star had taken so much cocaine he'd lost control of his bowels. Still, this didn't phase the driver, as he calmly took the call from his mother-in-law, informing him that his child had been born. How sweet.


Fangio never woulda shat the bed.

Enrich Bernie Further! Buy an F1 Mousepad! [Internal]


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