Oh The Pretty!!!

No need for words (watch it all the way through--you'll thank me for it):

hot.

The previous post was the 100th for Fanny and I, btw. I didn't realise till just now. If I (we) had, I (we) might have put forth something profound and thought-provoking. Or so I tell myself.

In the meantime, it's been over 85 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course) here and I've wandered down to the stadium to watch my first DC United match this season.

Where I saw this (see right). Where had he been in my past few visits to RFK stadium, I wonder?

(almost) friday frivolity: no more football

So, the English Premiership season is over. Liverpool, as always, didn't challenge for the title, lost in the semis of the Champions League and are in the midst of uncertainty about what's happening with their owners (who are fighting among themselves).

But, there's hope. Here's Xabi Alonso giving his opinion on quite a few things. I love the furrowed brow look and the confusion over "mushy peas or gravy"

when football is just not enough

So, I ended up at a Happy Hour gig yesterday with a mate who writes reviews for an online site, her friend who is a regular blogger (but about cool non Colin Firth Penis stuff), and a few other people, all involved in creative endeavours such as writing, journalisting and theatre-ing.

I don't remember much of the two hours I spent there except:
a) I was told I was "very cheerful. Not like you"
b) I patted a bloke on his arm a few times (no, I'd not met the bloke before)
c) I asked about wedding etiquette, we discussed shaving bits and pieces (consensus=boys shouldn't do it),
d) I recall someone taking their top off to show a (shaved) nipple.
e) I shamelessly pimped out Chiwetel Ejiofor, even though his new film is about grown men beating each other up.

All this was the result of my having spent the previous 3 hours, watching Liverpool lose in the most annoying style (oh WHY did they play like they had huge concrete blocks on their feet throughout the first half? WHY?) and now having to face the prospect of a Chelsea-Man Utd Champions League final.

Gah.

whee!

I emerged from my self-imposed seclusion* today to go and watch the first match of the African Cup of Nations football tournament. It was thrilling stuff, Ghana vs Guinea.

In the course of 90 mins, I managed to:

1. Piss off 3/4 of the other spectators by loudly cheering on Ghana and swearing "like a sailor". One of the blokes told me it was "unfeminine". My response is probably not worth posting here.
2. Realised swearing at people on the telly is rather calming. Some of us go to yoga, some meditate, I watch sports.
3. Ah identities and gender issues--people thought I was either from Zimbabwe or South Africa since why else would a girl be watching football alone?
4. I have a date for the next match tomorrow**! Whee!!



* I've told myself I'll finish writing the draft of a chapter or else wither away in my bedroom a la Miss Havisham (but with pyjamas instead of a wedding dress)

** No, not one of my fellow spectators but a chap I met last weekend. I don't agree with going to sporting events to find blokes to date (Fanny will attest to my militant attitude on this)

Duh.

Dear reader(s), I'm sure you are wondering who Fanny and I are, what we get up to when we are not sat in front of our computers wracking (is that the right spelling?) our brains to tell you about things going on in our world.

Well, this picture will tell yous all you need to know about me (and my interests): Fernando Torres (football player for Liverpool and Spain). On his left arm, you can see a tattoo of his name in the Tengwar script*. I enjoy all 3: footy, Frodo and co., fanciable lads (in shorts!)

That's Friday's frivolous blog post for y'all--enjoy the weekend!

* I read about this somewhere--I should confess I don't actually read LOTR's made up languages. Really I don't.