There is a crescent-shaped scar on an otherwise new rug in the room where my tv is.
I rarely watch tv anymore. But I DO watch sports from time to time. My favorite sport is, I hesitate to say, women's beach volleyball. I know, I know. But you are wrong. Or rather, you are only partly correct. Of course there are those so-called uniforms.... and the ubiquitous wraparound shades.... and the rail-thin, lithesome bodies.... women's bodies. Women's bodies in those skimpy tight volleyball costumes. What's not to like?
But you would be wrong, because, as God is my witness (okay, okay, let's leave God out of this discussion.... just take my word for it), I never watch Women's Beach Volleyball if my favorite player is not playing. And, get this, she is not the lithesome type. (Although, I have to say, she does do the skimpy costume and wraparound thing.) She is, in fact, rather stocky as beach volleyball players go. Of course I understand that is a relative term, but really... under any other circumstance (which means: fully clothed), guy that I am, my eye would be drawn to any other competitor in the beach volleyball circuit.
Her name is Misty May and with her teammate Kerri Somebody, has won the Olympic Gold Medal in the last Olympics when Women's Beach Volleyball became an official olympic event (finally!). There was a lot of buzz on the internet when they won because they did all that hugging and rolling around in the sand and the digital cameras were flashing all over the place. That doesn't interest me too much, though. Nor does her marriage to major league baseball player Somebody Traynor. So even though her name now is Misty May-Traynor, to me she is still Misty May.
Although, it is a little like stalking, I have searched for photos of her online and without those shades or when she is in normal dress I do not give two seconds to the images. But put her on her stage, that gritty sand-in-your-bikini arena, and I am suddenly ALL ATTENTION. Believe me, I am as puzzled as you.
That is all I have to say, except perhaps that during the Olympics I watched faithfully every televised match she played. And sometime during that ordeal I was making popcorn on the stove... (really good popcorn can be made on the stove, by the way).... when I heard the tv say they were playing. I grabbed the pan and ran to the tv room and placed it on the wool rug (wool is like one big hot-pad, no?)... except it was not wool. It is (was) a beautiful rug, kind of african-looking, but made from acrylic or nylon or something and therefore when I put the hot pan on it, it MELTED. Oops.
I named the melted scar Misty.
I rarely watch tv anymore. But I DO watch sports from time to time. My favorite sport is, I hesitate to say, women's beach volleyball. I know, I know. But you are wrong. Or rather, you are only partly correct. Of course there are those so-called uniforms.... and the ubiquitous wraparound shades.... and the rail-thin, lithesome bodies.... women's bodies. Women's bodies in those skimpy tight volleyball costumes. What's not to like?
But you would be wrong, because, as God is my witness (okay, okay, let's leave God out of this discussion.... just take my word for it), I never watch Women's Beach Volleyball if my favorite player is not playing. And, get this, she is not the lithesome type. (Although, I have to say, she does do the skimpy costume and wraparound thing.) She is, in fact, rather stocky as beach volleyball players go. Of course I understand that is a relative term, but really... under any other circumstance (which means: fully clothed), guy that I am, my eye would be drawn to any other competitor in the beach volleyball circuit.
Her name is Misty May and with her teammate Kerri Somebody, has won the Olympic Gold Medal in the last Olympics when Women's Beach Volleyball became an official olympic event (finally!). There was a lot of buzz on the internet when they won because they did all that hugging and rolling around in the sand and the digital cameras were flashing all over the place. That doesn't interest me too much, though. Nor does her marriage to major league baseball player Somebody Traynor. So even though her name now is Misty May-Traynor, to me she is still Misty May.
Although, it is a little like stalking, I have searched for photos of her online and without those shades or when she is in normal dress I do not give two seconds to the images. But put her on her stage, that gritty sand-in-your-bikini arena, and I am suddenly ALL ATTENTION. Believe me, I am as puzzled as you.
That is all I have to say, except perhaps that during the Olympics I watched faithfully every televised match she played. And sometime during that ordeal I was making popcorn on the stove... (really good popcorn can be made on the stove, by the way).... when I heard the tv say they were playing. I grabbed the pan and ran to the tv room and placed it on the wool rug (wool is like one big hot-pad, no?)... except it was not wool. It is (was) a beautiful rug, kind of african-looking, but made from acrylic or nylon or something and therefore when I put the hot pan on it, it MELTED. Oops.
I named the melted scar Misty.
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Misty May (Traynor)
The consumer isn't a moron; she is your wife. You insult her intelligence if you assume that a mere slogan and a few vapid adjectives will persuade her to buy anything. Post by Ajf6
Posted by: Ajf 6 | 08/01/2010 at 10:09 PM
You are absolutely right, of course. Although, I have to say, I have no idea what you are talking about.
Posted by: Ran | 08/02/2010 at 05:27 AM