**although I DO have one more fishy item...okay, two**
We have been sucked into the Olympics. Remember, this is a cable free household. We are GLUED to NBC until waaay too late in the morning.
Really, it all started because NBC played women's beach volleyball every Sunday morning. Kerry Walsh and Misty May-Traynor just rock.
(I'm sure I misspelled at least one of those names, possibly more. Google? Who the hell are you talking to? It's eleven thirty and I'm waiting for my washer to finish so I can throw things into the dryer!)
So we HAD to watch our girls kick some ass.
It's kind of like mini trucks. Trucks are utility vehicles. They serve a purpose. Once you spend thousands of dollars on rims and a paint job and lower it, you've killed the utility, so why not just buy a stupid CAR? I honestly think a lowered pouffed out truck is about the most horrifyingly effeminate thing anyone could drive. Body builders at the gym are the biological equivalent to the mini truck.
The muscles on those divers (okay, all of the ...aquanauts?) are a functional thing of beauty. IF Michael Phelps did not have the unfortunate Eli Manning problem of not closing his mouth enough, I'd probably have a wee crush on him, too. Even though I think I'm old enough to be his mom. (EEEWWWWW)
What? Oh, yeah, Olympics. So I totally think those Teeny Chinese gymnasts are about twelve, tops, but I love watching Bela Karolyi (again with the google spell check? lighten up, people!) just call 'em like he sees 'em.
Okay, laundry safely transferred, must sleep sometime...