An Update, at the Behest of Leland.
Team Italia: A Photographic Ode//What Kelly Did the Night Before MTSU Customs.
If the soccer team is any indication of the current state in Italy, I am SO marrying an Italian man.
{{They travel in black suits. Their captain’s name is Fabio. Granted, the ones with longer hair appear to own several shares of stock in hair gel, but that’s easily forgiven.}}
{{Mmmmmmmm. Does this make them eye caramella instead??}}
{{^^ Captain Fabio, debating how he will propose holy matrimony to me.}}
Me: "Not the faaaace!!"
Coach: "…And this is what happens when we mix whites with reds in the laundry!"
Player: "Dude, that so wasn’t me."
LATER...
"Whoever did this is gonna dieeeeee..."
{{Brokeback Appenines Mountains. Believe me, there are more game-action shots like that. It could have looked much, much worse. Or better, depending on how you view things. *Wink*}}
{{Talk about hurting when you fall from heaven.
I HAD TO SAY IT!!}}
"Okay, so maybe croquet wouldn’t have been that bad."
Me: "Skank, step back. They’re mine."
"…What? I’m stretching! ....Weirdo."
{{Unseemly amounts of sweat never looked so good.}}
{{Further proof in the power of soccer.}}
Coach: "Mussolini was an AMETEUR."
"So… When do you think they’ll find out about the laundry?"
"Uhhhhhh… Now. TOLD you we shouldn’t have separated ours out!!"