Too Vanilla For You

I'm never letting Mr. Pong update my blog again. This was his shining chance to step up to the plate while I was gone, show everybody that he can blog well, and that's what he gave us? We went from the shining moment of the blog, the calf-off, to a picture of a chubby asian kid in 5 posts. That's shameful. So let me apologize to everyone who had to read that. Plus he sucked it up big time at the short track on Monday. And I mean really sucked it up.

Slaven apparently had some bad luck too. He didn't finish off so hot, and spent the whole next day at work muttering something about "being elbowed by a tree" or something like that. I don't know.

Italy was good. It was hot. So hot that a few times I pressed myself up against a rock cliff to try to find some shade, and to try to get cool. Who here likes prosciutto? and white wine? Those are similar to what you Americans call "bacon" and "grape juice with alcohol", except italy-er. The world cup was pretty insane too. Walls of screaming Italian fans on the streets in Rome. If Ping Pong doesn't do better next Monday I'm going to try that Zidane head-butt move on him.