“I don’t know about you, but I’ve had just about enough of the screaming image of Michael Phelps!”
The Lovely I shakes her lovely head in lovely disgust. And PP has to agree. Isn’t there another more pleasant image to partake of at these Olympics? (See previous blog for an example!)
And besides, there is ZERO soap opera potential with Screaming Michael Phelps. 8 Gold Medals? No soap opera there. Up close and personal (remember it’s not called that anymore, but PP can’t get away from her childhood Olympic Memories) MP is BORING!!! All he does is EAT (I try to put away 8-10,000 calories a day. GROSS me Out!) Sleep. Close up of MP in bed snoring, or what one would think is his snoring, but no, it’s his gross little snoring bulldog puppy in bed with him. YUCKY! PP can’t shake one childhood memory and that’s of the Kimmick’s Bulldog, Bruiser, aggressively sniffing her 11-year-old crotch every time she went to visit.
Too bad there wasn’t a pool for her to dive into to wash the disgusting dog slobber off!
But back to MP, what is there to write about? The up close and personal segment on NBC last night showed him watching TV. (When I’m not in the pool I’m very lazy.) Well, yeah of course, this would make sense, but hell, not too interesting watching Michael watch T.V while he’s scarfing down his 3 cheese and bacon omelets, 6 pieces of French Toast with powdered sugar, 5 bowls of Wheaties with milk and more sugar, and topping it off with 10 plates of hash browns smothered in ketchup.
PP bets that Laure M doesn’t eat like this. Granted, she must eat to keep up her pool stamina and maintain her soap opera triangle, but PP pictures her rising from a fluffy white bed with her tres beautiful calico cat stretching luxuriously in the background, while Laure pours herself some French pressed café, a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and then thoughtfully bites into a sinfully flaky croissant to round out the meal.
Laure would be oh so tres continental and civilized.
The only good thing, besides of course the relay race entertainment value (which by the way was not exciting because of Phelps but because of the anchor leg swam by Jason Lezak, pictured here), is that every time MP wins another Gold Medal, and stands there on the podium with the goddamn national anthem playing, PP can skip this part of the T.V. broadcast and go to the bathroom and do the dishes.
Lord knows she’d never take a break during Laure’s swim.
Because you never know. Those French can sneak up on you. Unlike the Americans. Plowing through the water at The Cube. As the Lovely I commented, “I don’t know what you’d call what I do in the Pool and what they do in the Pool, but they are no way even near the same THING!”