Go, Lance, Go

It's Tour de France month!

So I'm putting up all these banners to support Lance my man and the Discovery Channel team.

Lance my man is gunning for his seventh (and last) title, and is now up front in the race with the yellow jersey after the 5th stage.

But Lance my man, ever the gracious leader, decided to forego the privilege of wearing the yellow jersey at the fifth stage, after his fellow American rival David Whatzisname, from whom he took the yellow jersey at the time trial, fell and crashed.

(Did I get my facts right? These cycling tours are so confusing.)

Er... so Lance my man wasn't wearing the yellow jersey when I tuned in to watch the fifth stage last night.

I am a sucker glued to the ESPN coverage of Tour de France. Yeah, they are just cycling and there isn't much action (unless someone falls off the bike and crashes) - what's there to see?

Oh... lots. Lots of lean, mean cycling machines. Long, lean, muscular legs pounding hard on the pedals. Lean muscular bodies in tight-tight-tight jerseys. Chiseled faces winced in pain, eyes hidden behind cool-cool Oakleys, gritted teeth, profuse sweat rolling down the cheeks.

Man, I just love these sights.


New York is... *poof*... out.

Yeah yeah, New York is long ago out of the contention for Olympics 2012. But I don't really care for this bit.

New York is out of my to-go list.

Now, that cuts my options down to what... nine?

My friend in L.A. tells me the beaches in summer are gorgeous. Now I'm tempted.

But L.A. so bledy big - where to go? She says also, you can't get around L.A. without a car. Argh.


But I do care that Paris did not win the bid for Olympics 2012.

Why London? Just because Beckham has been quacking so much?

And I do seriously think Paris lost it because of the dog poop problem that they have. Parisians are too embarrassed to admit it; the 115-member voting committee is too diplomatic to mention it.

Three times in 20 years - can you imagine how serious the problem has been? Good gosh.


I haven't been using my hairbrush at all in weeks.

Yep - not after I wash it, and not after I wake up in the mornings. I am taking the meaning of an 'out-of-bed look' too literally.

But I like messy hair. I absolutely diss 'rebonded' hair - unless I deem you desparately need it.

My ex-colleague Les used to sit right in front of me, separated by the low cubicle wall. He would always tell me now and then, "I like how your hair looks in the mornings - all puffy and standing up - very original."

Maybe he meant to say he could see my hair beyond the cubicle wall from where he was sitting.

I didn't know if it was a true compliment or a subtle hint, and I don't wish to know now.

I just like it. Till I get split-ends, maybe.


I have also been googling myself recently. Out of pure boredom, I have to clarify.

I've tried typing in "fatmama", "fat mama", "the original fatmama" and the likes.

And, I must say, the results returned are quite disturbing. I cannot even list down the links, in case my own site gets classified as "adult".

I just realized - it doesn't help me at all that one of my recent posts was titled "My Pussy Wagon".

Shucks.