Oh, what have I done? Mom wanted me to be a chiropractor, but no! I knew better! Mister Smarty-Pants just HAD to be a matador!
So here I am, dressed like Elton John, in front of all these boobs who came to see blood. They expect me to take my sword and… Caramba! I left my sword at home, on the sofa! Under my CAPE! Can anything ELSE go wrong today?
“Well, there’s the roar of the crowd. That means they’ve let the bull in. It’s just me, this black beanbag on my head, and a one-ton bull. What? And the program says I’m FRENCH? I know, who’s even HEARD of a French bullfighter? Maybe if I stand real still…
Related posts: Meester bool and “So? What do you do?”
French matador Sebastian Castella crosses himself before starting a bullfight in The Maestranza bullring in Seville April 4, 2008. REUTERS/Marcelo del Pozo
Trackback
3 comments so far
Just blame Mark Penn. Works every time.
- Posted by John C AbellI could’ve had a V-8!
- Posted by Charlene“That damned gypsy chic told me that I’d meet a dark stranger, but….”
- Posted by Lyn Sherwood