How much does PP love the swimming at the Olympics? You all know the answer to that one. She is completely and totally obsessed! Were that she could have gone to the Beijing Olympics and sat rapt in the stands of the Water Cube (how much do you love that name?), but she’ll have to settle for NBC’s coverage of the sport every evening.
Without which, she never woulda known the story of Laure Manaudou. The sexy French swimmer with an enthralling love triangle to boot. (Or should she say, ‘to fin’)
Poor Laure. She is so beautiful but her story is so tragic. First she falls in love with some Italian swimmer cad, his name might be Mario or some other typical Italian appellation. He is so cute. He is so Italian. He wants her to come to Italy. She says oui oui I love you my Cherie and so she does. But then the Italian swim team coach won’t let her practice in Italy, she must take off her clothes and have her nude pictures on the Internet in order to maintain her celebrity. No this isn’t really what happened, but PP isn’t exactly sure how the nude pictures got online. But there they are! And she is so sexy and so fun-loving. Oh, Laure, we amour you!
Then, poor Laure, she is so taken advantage of. Her sexy self completely used and abused by the nasty French and Italian tabloids. During last night's Olympic broadcast, she is seen, care of NBC’s up close and personal, but they don’t call it that anymore, on the side of an empty pool, back in France, alone and sad, lamenting how she will retire. She has had to leave Italy. And to top if off, her Mario has hooked up with that Italian Hussy, Federica Pellegrini.
Woe oh woe is Laure!
But there’s the Olympics. She will not retire. She will not let those stupid Italians keep her out of the pool and out of the Cube. She will SWIM!
And so she does. In the finals of the 400 freestyle. And guess who one of her competitors is? Yup, none other than that goddamn Italian boyfriend stealer, Federica.
What’s Laure to do?
Take her clothes off again?
Swim her heart out! And she does. She's ahead for the first half of the race. Way ahead. But PP knows. It's a long race. Will Laure be able to maintain that speedy pace? Or will she tire, her long lean swimmer muscles tightening and slowing when the final lap arrives.
Oh, Laure! We love you! Keep it UP!
But alas!
She could not. And beautiful, brave Laure came in last in her race, with Pellegrini ahead of her in 5th place.
Well, at least the Italian didn’t win it. And frankly, PP can’t even remember who did. Maybe an Australian. Or that amazing Coventry from Zimbabwe. Or maybe it was one of those Brits.
In any case, pool Laure, did not win. She lost the man. She lost the race. She lost her clothes.
It is all so French.
PP can only speculate what Laure did after the race.
Hopefully she grabbed herself a big bottle of champagne, toasted her retirement, and found a handsome Chinese basketball player to fool around with.
Sometimes getting out of your sport and into bed with another is the only answer to heartbreak and tragedy.
At least for a night.
At least for the Olympics.
At least for Laure!
1 comment:
Su-purr-b. Such a good little story, by PP the soap-opera/ real-life gossip columnist extraordinaire. And it reads as if it was written with a french accent too. How do you do that? Mais voila! Quelle panache, what style! And to think I was there beside you as it happened - not the writing part, naturellement, but the witnessing, on the tele-vision. Dit on! Tres lucky, ne'est pas? Ah-ooh, Pool-Poohs, tu est mangnifique, et je suis un fan.
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