Published August 28, 2009 by jean cohen

I’m trolling the American sports sites on line at the moment, prepping for The Season – Real, Proper American Football.  It’s been a damned long dry spell.  This requires arguing with Little Bro, my laptop, because he insists that I’m in England.  I say I can be anywhere I feel like being, so stop with the fucking soccer shit already.  Bro is very obdurate.  But I’m even worse.


I found this sports show on Fox called Carolla & Company.  He tells it like it is.  I would mention what he had to say about Plaxico or Michael Vick but that’s getting stale.  The other night he was talking about a charity event where Shaq played against Ben Roethlisberger in both sports.  Big Ben beat Shaq in H-O-R-S-E, but that’s not surprising.  Everybody knows Shaq absolutely sucks from the free throw line.  Carolla was talking about what an asshole Roethlisberger is; yeah, he’s really kinda dumb.  Anyway, Corolla asked “What would Big Ben answer if you asked him ‘Where is the landmark located that you’re nicknamed after?’ Big Ben would probably go ‘Uh.  I’m not sure.  Fort Lauderdale?’”  Seriously, Carolla is growing on me like he’s a colony of E Coli and I’m a room temperature Omaha steak.


I end up on news sites too, although I’m not sure I actually want to know a lot about what’s going on at home, especially with the economy and Sheep Flu.  This item caught my attention for some reason.  As of January 1, 2010, the CDC (Centers for Disease Control) will issue a strong recommendation that all newborn baby boys be circumcised.  Their research has shown a direct correlation between the spread of STDs and cavaliers.  See.  I’m obviously not merely fastidious.  Or Jewish.


Otherwise, it’s been pretty much just my normal week; lunch with Lulu (to finally exchange birthday pressies),  and lunch with a new American friend whom I met at the dentist.  It was obviously meant to be.  There I was waiting in Young Matthias’ waiting room, and out came the victim…I mean patient… before me.  As she booked her next appointment it was clear that in addition to being a fellow sufferer she was a fellow American.  We started chatting and exchanged phone numbers, making the date to meet up and complain about everything English.  Deb is from Cape Cod, in Massachusetts.  That is so cool.  She’s Right Coast, but (thankfully) not New York, not that it mattered especially, although I probably would find it hard to relate to someone from the Left Coast.  They’re so Left Coast.   Deb and I are now friends on Facebook.  Gottenu!  Do ya suppose she’s, like, a Patriots fan?  Never mind.  She’s very nice and I liked her. 


In the ‘Weybridge is a small town’ vein, Deb said that she goes to the Gym on the High Street.  I said “Oh my God! My BFF Pinkie goes there too.  Is that not totally awesome?”  Well I said something to that effect.  I could actually hear myself sounding more and more American as we talked.  Really.  I could.  Anyway, I described Pinkie. “She’s a Cool Winter.  She lives in fucking black & white unless she’s wearing pink because ‘she can.’” That didn’t ring any bells for Deb so I showed her a picture of Pinkie and me from the Midnight Walk looking really, really cute. Deb said “She was working out right next to me this morning!  I see her at the gym a lot, but we’ve never spoken.”


I spent quite a bit of time working with JDavid on the new website, and I need to get some on the site training from JKeith, JDavid’s brother, in the wilds of Hampshire.  I reworked and shortened a few of the articles on the new site.


Of course, I had a date with Piano Man this week.  Yeah, it was okay.  Just okay.  I think his days are numbered and he might be moving to ‘Dumpsville- Population: You’ sooner rather than later.  Don’t say it.  I’m too fussy.  Yeah, I know.  We have a date scheduled for this week, but I’m not sure I want to even be bothered. Of course, I’ll probably change my mind if my week looks a little light on the engagements.


I worked my shifts at Sam, and I re-did the library at the Senior Centre, one of the Committee jobs I accepted.  Seeing as I can take inventory from Sam, or swap stuff, it shouldn’t be too much trouble.  I cleared out an entire shelf of Mills & Boon.  They’re too provocative for the Seniors I decided.  Look at Mary; she still chasing Charles and being nasty to me.  She probably pictures him in a pirate’s outfit, with an earring and a sword, ripping off her lavender polyester slacks and green cardigan and having his wicked way with her in the moonlight on the starboard bow as the huge sailing vessel glides silently through the silver water, the only sound her gasping breaths and the billowing sails.  Wow.  That’s an image I can so do without.  And I should probably stop sampling those Mills & Boons.


Pinkie and I did the quiz at the AshTree with CheeseBoy; it was the first time in ages.  Our name was Bitches Back.  Bitches Shoulda Stayed Home would have been more apt.  We did really, really badly.  And there were absolutely no American questions.



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