Sporty Balls And A Big Mouth
Lordy, lordy, lordy, what an emotional day.
The England match, well what can I say, the word diabolical comes to mind and the stress gave me acid reflux, but as I appear to be the only female amongst my friends that care, I shall leave my further opinions well alone.
Tim Henman. Will you just easily win a match every once in a while for heavens sake, my blood pressure can't take the sinking then the swimming then the sinking then the swimming, rinse and repeat. Jeez.
I mean I'm supposed to be a woman. Getting hett up over 'man sports' isn't normal is it? Does this mean I'm a classic Ladette? Aren't I suppose to like knitting or something? Should I be making blueberry muffins and have a bun in the oven. Literally?
It could be too easy to speculate about my gender-identity confusion, the only thing that keeps my suspicions on the straight and narrow, is the yearning, burning, erupting lust I feel, knowing that tonight, for a whole half an hour, I can go weak at the knees for Russell Brand.
Yes I know he's highly feminine, but he still has a penis damnit!!
My motto for today, in the wise old words of the washed and leathered up Ronan Keating....
'Life is a rollercoaster
Just gotta ride it'
