I wonder sometimes whether gardeners stop mowing and trimming when I walk by because they want to be polite to women or because they want to look at my breast jiggle as I scurry past them.

So France brought it to the Spaniards yesterday, 22 years to the day after beating them in the Euro Final. Suckas. Man, was that a fun match to watch, save for the first thirty minutes. For the entire first half hour we couldn't break past their 30 meter line; frankly they were dominating us. Once we were down a goal, my boys started creating some spaces for themselves. And finally, finally Franck Ribery stopped shooting the ball up in the air as though he were kicking a free kick in rubgy. Sangfroid the boy showed in front of the goal, and the rest, as they say is history.

La victoire est toujours en nous. Allez les bleus.

I'm listening to:
Sleater-Kinney- One Beat
man, did those ladies know how to put on a rock show. Janet Weiss is one badass on the drums. *sigh* I'll miss you.