LuLu's Breeding Under The Pale Moonlight.

I understand it is a little unusual to blog on a national holiday, but I'm at work, and the building is offering security for us, and the security is none to happy about having to be here on what did you say this day was again? It's the day following the Yankees two game stomp down against the Twins. Some of the players for the Twins were a little frustrated last night, and in turn acted like petulant babes. It was an appalling scene, and altogether unprofessional, and Paul O'Neil was there to offer his vapid commentary, but that doesn't mean it wasn't fun to watch.

Derek made an outstanding vertical play, and when asked about it later he kinda shrugged and said "You just spread your legs at the end it makes it look like you got a little higher." So modest. And RoRo bounced back from his hamstring pull thing. Georgie did something that was terribly funny, but I completely missed it. I should probably pay more attention to the rest of the game. There are something like 9 players.

And although it has nothing to do with ball this just tickled me so much. Apparently Louis Vuitton has won a battle in a Paris administrative court to keep it's flagship store open on Sunday. The reason being...Please sit down. Going into a Louis Vuitton shop is apparently a cultural experience. Shopping for fuggly handbags and accessories is a culturally enriching and life transforming event. Not shopping at Louis Vuitton makes you a simple minded rube floundering around society with no cause, function, or grasp on what makes humanity worthwhile. Deciding which key chain to buy for your bridesmaid is just a wee bit more important than reading. Deciding which grain of hide you want for your trip to Bermuda speaks volumes about how educated, refined and worthwhile you are. I'm sorry to have to say this, but it looks like the French are too stupid to breathe. And they just elected a cosmic asshole that makes George Bush look like Patrick Stewart. Viva la Prov-fuck off! They are going to have to do a lot better than that I'm afraid. John Galliano recently marked the 60th anniversary of Christian Dior with a lavish runway show at the Palace of Versailles, but given the state of French jurisprudence, and despite how exquisite the clothes were, all I have to say is who gives a fuck? Next thing you know the sounds of snarfing down a Nicoise salad will become their national anthem.

I shouldn't even have to say this, but Louis Vuitton disgusts me more than mayonaise.