giggle pop

I know its not monday and I am late again with my post, and I know I did Rog a few weeks ago, so recycle everything I said there. I just needed to post the sexiness that is Roger at Wimbledon. The MAN IS WEARING A WASTECOAT this year, and I love it. Granted it is not on the level of Roger Wimbledon porn like the cardigan last year, but still fedtastic! Btw he is through to the 3rd round. My Wimbledon coverage will be lacking because I have not seen a minute of it and probably wont until at least Friday.




Pics from daylife

After weeks of endless prickles TSP was growing tired and timid. He was worried about his upcoming match against the USA.


His teammate Daahhhvveeed saw the worry on little TSP's face and decided to help him overcome his fears. Daahhhvveeed decided it was time to teach little teaspoon his secret weapon "the bitchface" Daahhhvveeed's bitchface was epic and known the world over. A few days before the game the lessons began.


The game was not going as planned, the USA was winning? it could not be, they were dominating the European Champions? oh they were. Now most of the USA boys are just wonderful, absolutely wonderful...except for one, the evil Landycakes. Landycakes had decided he had not filled his quota of douchbagary for the game and decided it pick on the little TSP. Landycakes attacked swiftly and shamelessly in a way that made even his teammates cringe.



After the attack the little teaspoon did not know what to do. He was feeling angry, but did not know how to retaliate. Should he prickle the evil Landycakes?? but no, the prickles were only for the ladies, the exclusive members of the TSP club.

What was TSP to do? Then like a sage, Daahhhvveeed appeared and said "its okay little teaspoon you are ready to fight on your own, just remember what I taught you."

And with that, TSP gave Landycakes the best bitchface he could. Landycakes may have won the game, but TSP won at life.


THE END.

All pics from daylife

I keep meaning to write my profound thoughts on Real Madrid's transfer tactics this summer, but I am too traumatized to do so. I am trying to reconcile my love of the team and my hatered of Mr. Perez. Will write more soon, and in the mean time pray I do not get engulfed in the cloud of STDs produced by Ronnie and Paris mating.

I am on a serious French kick lately. I am loving everything frog, so I figured this week Monday Manmeat (yes I know its Thursday) would be on one of my favorite frenchies. Yoann “Lashes” Gourcuff.

He plays for Les Bleus, used to play for AC Milan went on loan to Bordeaux and is now staying there. They call him Le Petite Zizou. He is young has endless talent oh and likes to strip after games and run around in nothing but his undies. Bless him.
I am just going to let the pictures do the talking for the rest of the post as I will be too busy making dirty jokes about baguettes and giggling to myself.






Okay I do have to comment on this last picture. I am sure everyone has seen it a million times, but I mean my god can you ever get sick of it? It is perfection. I think this man was born to be in black and white. Not to mention the undone button on his jeans it is just beyond words.

For as long as I can remember I was a big fan of French things. I have never been to France, been to a lot of countries, but have not made it there yet. I am not quite sure where this love comes from, maybe its my French roots. I love it all, the cheese, the bread, the wine, the men, the philosophers, the accents, the berets, the everything. They call people who love French things francofiles, and I call my obsession francophiliation. Here are some of the French things I love…

The Wine
I grew up in the wine business and have had a fascination with French wine long before I could drink it. I loved the names and learning how to say them. The labels are so simple yet fancy. As I grew up and began drinking wine and learning lots about it the French was always my favorite. My favorite region is Chatenuf du Papes as well as the rest of the Rhone. I want to learn my Burgundies and Bordeaux’s better, but that will have to wait until I have some money. I have sold wine for many years and doing it again while I search for a lawyer job.

The Cheese
I know my wine, and I also know my cheese. I worked in a few super fancy cheese shops and there are few things I love more than a good Tripple Crème brie or a Tomme.

The Bread
I not only love to eat this tasty bread covered in the above mentioned cheese. I also love to make dirty jokes about baguettes (see below).

The Men
Lashes Gourcuff mmm, Gilles Simone, Philippe Mexes, Titi, Gilles Marini, Zizou, Florent Malouda (when his hair is sorted), Marc Planus, Oliver Martinez to name a few.

Les Bleus
I will forever have a soft spot for the French NT. I was in Europe during the 2006 world cup and cheering for England as I always do. However after England’s exit I threw my crazy excited support in the direction of the motherland. I ended up going to Berlin to be there during the final (and had one of the craziest most awesomely amazing days of my life) and I was cheering on Les Bleus, I was all decked out in an knock off Henry kit (this resulted in many hot German men talking to me about Henry, I will forever be thankful to Titi for this) a French flag, face paint…the works. I was drunk painted a French flag on an Italian guys back (he thought I was painting an Italian one, his friend thought it was hilarious). Anyways, I will always cheer for Les Bleus after that day. Even though the game did not end well, did not end well at all.

The Philosophers
Camus, Sartre, Ricoeur, Rousseau, Malebranche, Montesquieu, Merleau-Ponty *note there are some notable names left off and that was very much on purpose

The accents and Berets
If I could ever marry or at least sleep with a man who talks like Pepe Le Pew I would be a happy happy woman. And berets are just awesome.

ALLEZ LES BLEU!!!!

A few weeks ago I posted my first educational post about the rare sex porcupine. This week you are in store for a math lesson.

I knew hottie Spanish athletes came in pocketsized like my little teaspoon Xavi. I also knew they came in medium size like cuties Sergio Garcia and David Villa. They also come in large like the always delish Iker Casillas and Sergio Ramos. However I had no idea they came in super duper extra large like Pau Gasol.


After my discovery of this 7 foot tall hunk of scruffy manmeat I started to wonder. So like any great scientist/thinker I started with a question, in this case the the question was “how many Xavi’s would be needed to make up just one Pau.” I now had a question to answer and I set out to do so, in the process I made a study of many others. This inspired me to come up with a mathematical equation that would make even Newton feel inferior. It takes into account both height and weight. I plugged a few of my favorite Spanish athletes of all sizes into this mysterious and highly secret equation and these were the results. This was a highly important and scientific study. I cannot predict the effects this will have on the mathematical community but I imagine they will be huge.

In order to get one Pau Gasol you would need the following amounts of these guys…
In order from smallest to largest

Andres “Casper” Ineiesta = 1.52
Xavi “TSP” Hernandez=1.46
Dahveed Veeyaa =1.43
Sergio Garcia =1.38
Sergio “THE” Ramos =1.36
Iker “Sexy Pants” Casillas =1.29
Fernando “Tobasco” Verdasco =1.26
Rafael “Biceps” Nadal =1.23

I am still in shock, but YES my Roger finally won the French Open!! I was in tears Sunday morning, it was so great to see. Everyone had written him off when it came to Roland Garros, but he did it, and now has the career slam. During the last game when he was serving for the title I was reminded just why I love him so much. When the camera would zoom in you could see the emotion on his face, he looked seconds awa from tears. He was already up two sets and you could see him making mistakes, but he knew he had the title and it was just so great to see that raw emotion.


I have watched Fed win a whole lot of Grand Slams, and seen him emotional after each one. This one was different. It was almost like he was winning his first one, he did not know what to do. It is pretty amazing seeing a man who has just tied the record for most Grand Slams in shock that he won another one. It was not the same without Rafa there, but I don’t think it takes away from Fed’s win. I know it would mean more to him if it was Rafa out there, but I think that stems from their respect for one another. Such an amazing rivalry, and what is so amazing about it is t ehir incredible sportsmanship and respect for one another. When they play one another in a final they both play at a super human level because both know the other deserves nothing less.

I think one of the best things about this is people will finally give Roger the credit he deserves as a clay player. People always saw it as a weakness because he never won at Roland Garros and they over look just how dominate he is on clay. I think the only person who ever beat him in the French Open is Rafa (maybe one other guy waaaaay back). As one of the commentators said early in the tournament “people always talk about Federer’s problems on clay, but the only problem he has ever had on clay is named Rafa Nadal.”

Okay will stop gushing now. Oh and will leave you with the other reason I love Roger.

mmmmm (thanks for the pics misty ☺)

This weeks Monday Manmeat is the one and only Gigi Buffon. I admit, it has taken me years to develop a taste for this amazingly coiffed hunk of Italian Sausage, but oh man do I see it now. Quick facts…goal keeper for Juve and Italian NT and won a world cup…blah blah blah.


I have a near uncontrollable obsession with this mans hair. As you will notice in the following picture Canna seems to be memorized by it as well.



Another thing I cannot get enough of is this mans name, I can say it over and over again in various accents and never want to stop. Gianluigi Buffon, say it with me Gianluigi Buffon. A friend once said to me “he is so Italian he must sweat extra virgin olive oil.” Even with all of this, all of his sexiness is in the hair. Not to mention the fact that no matter how poor his fashion choices he always looks ALL MAN!
If you look closely in this picture, he is wearing bobby pins. The man wears barretts and I still want to jump him. Yes I did just actually say that and I stand behind it. He could have little pink butterflies on them and would still be more man than any man ever.



And in this picture he is carrying my favorite accessory, the manbag! I have expressed my love of the manbag on many occasions. I can say now with certainty, Gigi carries more manliness in the strap of his manbag than 99% of the male population could ever hope to have.



And in this last picture he is touching Iaquinta’s head (my other obscure obsession, Iaquinta’s head).



Gianluigi = sexiest of the sexy beasts

After telling the tale of the Mardi Gras horse Miss Jaco asked me to share our adventures at Jaco Beach in Costa Rica…one of the many times we took our adventures international. We had just spent 2 weeks in Costa Rica taking classes with our law school. I would be an understatement to say that it was one of the most dramatic 2 weeks of my life, almost traumatic. At the same time it was a frickin’ great time. Here I am with about the only two people I could stand by the end of the trip… Miss Jaco and another friend.



We went through about everything you could imagine…vacationships, ending of friendships, strengthening of friendships, crazy new friendships as well as more alcohol and avocados than anyone could imagine. My liver hurts even thinking about that summer. After our school program ended it was time to get out of San Jose and do a little soul searching/cleansing.

As you see me here in this candid shot on one of our last nights in San Jose with the program giving my best “bitch please” pose…this picture sums up the trip pretty perfectly. Knowing me I was drunk and probably actually saying “bitch please” at the time.


Once the program ended I made plans to travel with Miss Jaco for a few days before we headed home. We spent a while deciding which beach to go to and what hotel to stay at. After some planning we picked to Copa Cabana at Jaco Beach. As I said we needed a weekend of soul searching/cleansing. Little did we know we picked an ocean side Costa Rican whore house with a view, and what do you know there was no better place.

The arrival, after an incredibly awkward van ride (all due to previous drama) we arrive at our hotel, the copa cabana. It is starting to get dark so we sit by the pool enjoying some drinks and order a pizza, and thinking “damn this is living.” When all of a sudden a group of middle aged men come over to our area, they brought an endless supply of imperial (Costa Rican beer) so we begin to chat. They explain they are there for a friends birthday celebration and ask why we are at this particular hotel. Well it turned out the hotel was mostly filled with prostitutes, and they were curious because we clearly were not prostitutes. After a few beers we begin to ask them questions about how this whole prostitute thing works and why exactly they would do such a thing…and what resulted was a very informative conversation I would rather forget. I did learn one thing however, my future husband will NEVER go to Costa Rica without me.

We make more friends at the hotel, some there for the hookers some not. We have one big fun chat session by the pool. At one point we received salsa dance lessons from one of the prostitutes, it was free. After hanging out at the hotel for a while a bunch of us decide to go out on the town and drink some more. On our way to some fun bars, some of the guys decided they would take us on a walk through of a very interesting bar…

The Beatle Bar
This bar had a simple black sign with white writing and it said “Beatle Bar” from the outside it seems like any other bar, but when you go in you can tell quickly something is just off. All you see is a lot of people talking in pairs, a lot of older men and a lot of younger women. It is very hard to explain, but it was a very interesting experience.

We spend the rest of the night out with random people from our hotel, including a very nice mattress salesman who was not there for the prostitutes, he was on vacation with his cousin.

The Cousin
The next day we go walk on the beach, lay by the pool, and relax in general. That night we hang out at the hotel bar drinking, not really sure what happened that night because after 2 weeks of heavy drinking and two nights in a row of staying out until dawn I fell asleep at about 8pm. But apparently Mr. Matress Salesman goes out. Later that night Mr. Matress Salesman wakes up to some disturbing sounds and comments as cousin and his new friend get to know each other. Mr. Matress Salesman goes and sleeps on beach, tells us about how disturbed he was by this the next morning. I go ziplining in the jungle (awesome by the way). After some evidence collecting Miss Jaco and Mr. Matress Salesman figure out Cousins friend is most likely a prostitute, and cousin somehow ended up going to a family picnic with her.

You can see me here soul searching on the beach


After yet another night of drinking followed by another day of laying by the pool and playing on the beach we decide we will spend our last night relaxing and having a quiet dinner at the hotel. Quiet dinner turned into many glasses of wine and about 8 shots of patron…each. While we never left the hotel we had one of the most wonderful conversations about life and all the adventures we had been through together. We talked about, life, love, lack of love, drama, mean people, nice people, and realized that night just how much our friendship meant.

We went to the beach for some soul cleansing, and while we witnessed some of the dirtiest sides of life, we walked away from Jaco Beach with souls cleansed, baptized by Patron. At times all we could do was laugh and/or be disturbed but in the end it was one of the most interesting experiences of my life. I saw a side of the world that I guess I always knew existed but never thought I would really see, and then there I was a spectator in the middle of it all. After everything we went through in the previous two weeks we needed a shock to the system to shake us out of the bubble we were in for that two weeks. When it came down to it all we needed was a weekend in a brothel with an ocean view and a whole lot of tequila.

Me and Miss Jaco at the beach on our life changing weekend

In interest of making my blog more about educational topics and not just half naked European athletes and sports in general this post is my attempt at a nature documentary. Today I will teach you about a mysterious creature with some very strong mysterious powers. Some women are born with a natural resistance to this creature, however, I like many was not born with such a resistance. I have fallen prey to this benign looking creature too many times to count. This creature is the sex porcupine.

Here are some basic facts on the sex porcupine

Other Names: Sexus Porcupinus, Xavier Hernandez, Xavalicious

Native territory: Barcelona, Spain also found in the general Catalonia region, Central midfield, Camp Nou, Gigglepop’s dreams and/or fantasies

Height: 1.70 m

Weight: 66 kg

Here is a photo of the sex procupine in captivity


General physical characteristics: Big chocolate brown eyes, pouty expression, perma 5 o’clock shadow, superior passing skills, superior free kick skills, Collects giant trophies

Defining characteristics: Perfectly spiky hair, Intense, unexplainable, incomprehensible sex appeal

Ways of attack: Beware of the sex porcupine’s spikies, or as the experts call them “prickles.” The prickles is the source of the sex porcupines powers and if you are luck you may just get prickled by them. Sometimes the sex porcupine is seen wearing an armband, this is when females are at greatest danger of attack

Be careful, while this creature may look harmless it makes up what it lacks in stature by a gigantic amount of sexy. The sex porcupine has been known to bath in random villages, here is a familiar image from the wild…


A special thanks to Lola for the photo modifications

How I became a Serie A fan. Towards the end of the summer I decided I was going to start following the Serie A. I have followed the EPL and La Liga for years, and had my alliances very set in stone for both leagues for a while, but I had never followed the Italian league closely. While my alliances in the other two leagues formed fairly organically (stories for another day) I started thinking, hmm I need a team if I am going to follow this league, right? It is pretty impossible for me to watch any sort of competition and not get behind a team, I mean I cannot even watch a game show without picking a favorite and screaming at the tv. I decided to give the impossible a try and not pick a team until the end of season…and I succeeded. I spent the season as a happy neutral spectator learning and enjoying the intricacies of the league. I saw a lot of beautiful football and a lot of beautiful men.

As the season progressed I began to sort out teams I could see myself as a potential fan of and ones I just could not get behind. I decided quickly that AC Milan just was not for me, they were just to polished, smug, or something…can’t put my finger on it. There are a lot of great players on the team and not really hateable, but just not for me. The three teams that started to stand out to me as possible candidates were Roma, Juventus, and Inter. After a few Roma games I realized that while they were ripe with hotties there just was not that spark there, and with that Roma got an honorable discharge. There I was trying to decide between Juve and Inter and it was a tough tough choice.

Juve had a little something I loved, not to mention my near obsession with Iaquinta’s head and Gigi’s hair. On the other hand Inter had The Special One, how could I NOT cheer for The Special One? The more I watched Inter the more I loved them…it was going to be so tough to choose. I made a pro list for each team…I managed to lose this list but it was full of quality reasons to cheer for teams such as: Pupi’s right thigh, Pupi’s left thigh, the pure awesomeness of Gigi, Nedved’s hair, etc. (btw the was I was choosing on more than just hotness, but that is just how my lists always turn out). After some time Inter was pulling away into a lead and I was inches away from declaring them the winner.

Then all of a sudden Juve hit hard with a three-pronged attack of firing Ranieri, signing Cannavaro (again), and Gigi Buffon wore bobby pins in a game I never thought I could want a man in berets so badly. Inter needed to step up their game…and step it up they did.

I think it was a few days after the clinched the title I was spending one of my usual awesome weekends sitting on the couch with the dogs, watching sappy movies, drinking lots of wine, and chatting on twitter with my lovely kickette ladies. All of a sudden I get a set of tweets I have only been able to describe as “drunken pictorial persuasion” TB was making a last ditch effort to sway me to become an Interista. It was a series of pictures of Mr. Stankovic in most of these pictures he was about 85% naked and one of which was on a waterslide. It not only provided material for fun dirty jokes, it involved something awesome…a waterslide! Also there were pictures like this…of the boys drunk and in festive wigs from the night before a game after they clinched the title. I LOVE FESTIVE HEAD GEAR!

I was drunk, TB was drunk, the nerazzurri boys were drunk it was like fate…I knew then and there that Inter HAD to be my team. And lets not forget the one of Julio Cesar in a crazy hat, no shirt, and a flag…too bad I can’t find it now.

I had been waiting for my magical a-ha moment, and that was it. So here I am an Internazionale fan. I cannot wait for next season when I can really watch the Serie A with my very own team to support. I loved watching the league this year, but without a team I did not have deep deep emotional attachment I have to La Liga and EPL. I know it is going to come and will develop more with another season or two. So there it is, how I became a fan of the Serie A and a fan of Inter.

Keeping with the tradition of Monday Manmeat, I am not going to go into all of his accomplishments just going to focus on the hottiness. Quick background, he is known simply as Xavi, plays for Barca and Spanish NT and is one of, if not the best midfielders in the world.

I cannot begin to describe my feelings for this pocket-sized Spanish hunk of man. I don't know if it is his puppy-dog eyes and always perfectly spiked hair...


Or the confused/pouty expression that is always on his face...


Maybe its his magical passing skills and perma-5 o'clock shadow...I don't really know but I do know the Xavster does things to me I could never explain


And one more time I will post the ultimate Xavalicious picture...stumbled upon this beauty and still have not breathed right since. Maybe its because it is the only sans-shirt pic I have found of him, or the cascading water, the look on his face, the fact that there seems to be a hint of chest hair (a rare sight amongst Spanish ballers)it could be any of the above things. However, what I think that really makes me melt in this picture is the fact that even while showering in a random village his hair stays perfectly spiky. Oh Xavi.

This pint-sized bundle of magical passing sexy is not for everyone, but there are a special few of us who see it.