My brain is fried with tennis, in the best possible way. I am still watching yesterday's stuff. It's a lot of tennis, these early rounds! And I sometimes get behind. But I always catch up. I am watching Dancevic v. Blake. Dancevic is cute- for one, he's Canadian. That right there makes him cute. But I am not digging the "bun". Men should not sport buns. Safin, briefly, sported a bun. He figured out quickly that it is wasn't right. Now Dancevic needs to figure it out.
My man Canas won his match. Tough five setter. Somewhere, there is a photo of his girlfriend that freaked us out with her hotness and made our respect for Canas SHOOT through the roof. I mean, if he gets to do her, he is just, like, a god or something.
(Rick Rock here - here is a picture of GC's girl, Fabiana Semprebom. This picture caused discord in our household...)
I took a fantastic tennis nap. At first Mary Carillo oozing on about James Blake and Obama (I like both those dudes very much, but Carillo annoys me some) was irritating me, but then later, I got all soothed from the "thwack, thwack" of balls and ...ah, naptime.
But I just woke up to see Nadal bagelling poor Christophe Rochus. I mean, why make those two play each other? Why? We now are fast forwarding. That was just too ugly. Like watching a cat bat around a mouse. Or like when my dog ate a bunny rabbit under the kitchen table. Or like when they used to hang people with thier innards hanging out so that birds would eat thier insides while they screamed and died slowly and painfully. Yeah, just like that.