Wednesday, 29 October 2014
Tuesday, 28 October 2014
If you're going to spend three hours hyperventilating chasing a furry yellow ball the size of Andre the Giant's testicle around with eight thousand people chanting your name, and end up losing to a balding Scot with about as much personality as a cardboard box, and lose having had five match points, greet him at the net like a gangsta.
Greet him at the net like Robredo.
Posted by dropthebeatonit at 09:04
Monday, 27 October 2014
There's a bit in that cheesy-ass but most wise Baz Luhrmann tune called Sunscreen which goes:
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind, you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
Well i just unearthed this badman, back end of a Bristol house party '06.
Not sure quite how much possibility lay directly before us that night, i'd give it another half hour tops.