Wednesday, January 4, 2012

Old Lady Post: Alespam

Originally published on October 28, 2011

Juventus 2 : 2 Genoa
Juventus 2 : 1 Fiorentina


Four days, two matches, four points.  Not so bad, and it gives the worldwide Juventini contingent something else to think about.  It's still not OK, OK?  Life, however, goes on.  So:


Welcome back, bb, and thanks for bringing those eyelashes with you.

Before the jump, I have something I want to say.  I'm Juventina.  I didn't come about it by rational decision-making.  It just happened.  Also, I'm a known Inter-hater, tho I hope a fairly kindly and gentle one.  I didn't know I was supposed to hate Inter.  I came about it naturally and honestly.  Now:  The Big Match is tomorrow, and the Juve fansites, all full of the Viola win and Matri magic, are talking smack. I imagine the Inter ones are too, but whyever would I go there to find out?   OK, rivalries are fun and all that.  However, I am not down with calling Inter "Merda."  That, for me, is too much.  Just please don't ask me about Chelsea, OK?    /lecture





In the first match, The Griffins came to Turin and managed to squeak out a draw.  After Genoa got its first goal to tie the score, I had to sulk and moan for two days before I could go back and finish the match, and I spent those two days in ADP!despair, so I don't remember much except the end result.  here's what I do remember:

One:  Seb Frey seemed fatter than last year.



Two:  Mister brought the dramaz like he do.


Shouldn't there be some hint of junk when he poses this way?



Sweet footwear.



His bracelets!  Ha!  I don't think I've ever seen anyone wear those with a suit before.


The close-up is so extreme that the nose has to be out of focus for it to work.

Conte and I (and Mr. D) are pretty much contemporaries.  I don't see this kind of wrinkly sun damage when I look in the mirror.  I wonder if I'm kidding myself.


Three:  ADP started on the bench....


DB:  *whimpers*

....then spent 40 minutes warming up in the second half.....




......and finally got on the pitch almost at the last moment, where he had no time to do anything except remind us all how depressing It all is.






That's a lot of strong, muscular booty.


What utter bullshit.  Sure, his aura remains even when he's not there, but it's waaaaaaaaaay better for him to actually be there.



Four:  I hate Caracciolo.
Four prime:  Who is that?  Oh.  Pazienza.  Pazienza finally got some minutes.



Five:  I still love Marcostorari, even if the photogs don't.





Query:  What if Gigi weren't really hurt?  What if Gigi's less-then-wonderful form means Marcostorari deserves some playing time and "Gigi is hurt" is the cover story they're telling?


Six:  Gio, who is not a world class left back, is still a bad-ass motherfucker.


Dario Dainelli has got to be one of the dimmest-looking players in Italy.  Also:  Ale!Rawr!  Yummy.




Oh sweet Jesus.  If he starts to be one those ones with saggy socks, whatever is going to become of me?





Hint: Naked Gio spam is good, especially if it doesn't have any disturbing intrusions from real life, such as his girlfriend.


Seven:  Marcelo Estagarriba is the new Momo.



I don't mean in terms of the dirty-tackling, krap passing, or idiot fouling that none of us miss.  PSG is welcome to all that.


Tangent:  Regardless of what you may think of the man, I think you'd have to say that it's a lot of fun saying "Giandomenico Mesto."



Back to Esta: He's the new Momo in terms of disproportionate attention from the photogs.


Did he play well?  I dunno.

Eight:  Despite what you may think from looking at Daylife, the Zebes fielded a full squad that included a number of players who were not Ale Matri.  Witness:


Leonardo Bonucci's eyebrows.




Oh, and the man Leonardo Bonucci himself.


Giandomenico Mesto.  Oops.  I mean Palacio.  Whatevs.  Giandomenico Mesto Giandomenico Mesto.


No, not exactly the same photo twice.  Cut me some slack.  You know how I feel about Leo.





The Pepster.


Andrea Pirlo.


When's the last time you saw him even bother to try for a header?  I'm telling you, this is an Andrea Renaissance.


Amirite?





Like a boss.


Bring it, bb.



Poor Alexander Merkel.  He looks like a cross between Hitlerjugend and Vanilla Ice.


His hair is just too blond and too perfect, isn't it.  Ohai Barza!




The BUM.











Mirketto was pretty quiet, I think.








Nine:  There was all sorts of Ale Matri up in here.


Ale having a sad.


Ale taking a breather.  (Check out them purple laces!)



Ale getting past Dainelli.  As if that's hard.



Ale getting past Marco Rossi without being grievously fouled.



Ale wearing almost the same bracelets as Conte.



Ale scoring goals and prancing away while looking as fierce as possible.



Ale prancing in front of the delirious tifosi.


Ale getting chased by Leo.



Ale showing us all that mouthguards don't have to be blue or other non-mouth-ish colors that freak people out.  Leo.



Ale being smug and showing his tongue.



Smug Ale deigning to allow that peon Mirko to offer congratulations.



Ale doing his Insufferable Secret Selebration Gesture, but getting interrupted by someone who doesn't know this is a Do Not Touch moment.



Ale getting his first taste of Paraguayan amor.



Ale enjoying the admiration of his peers.  BTW:  That tiny man in front?  Not Vidal.



um, where's Gio? and, um, where's Team Ho?






Almost as good as a manpile.



Ick.  Sticky saliva strings.  Maybe we don't need close-ups to be this close up.



Yeah.  So I've still got about 20 Matri celebration photos with various prances, fist-pumps, rawrs, and the like, but I'm going to choose the five best ones.




Feel mah powerslide, bitchez.



Take your shirt off, dummy!  We need you to get suspended or there will never be space for Quags.





Pirlo ain't the only one with hair that's.....special.

So that's Genoa.  On to Viola.  For this one, I guess you'd have to say that, technically, it was on and I was in the room while it was on, but really, I got nuthin,.


This could have happened at any match all season.



Yay!  It's Marcostorari!



Geez Claudio.  Yikes.  And Wow!


Hey.  Didn't Gambit used to wear his socks above the knee?  What happened?





Um, no, sorry.  Not a goal.  Mirko couldn't finish for shit.  Or so I've been told.



Yeah.  So short-sleeved hot pink jerseys in warm weather when everyone is still pleasantly tanned?  That's one thing.  Long-sleeved hot pink shirts, worn with hot pink turtlenecks, against pale and pasty winter skin?  That's something else.  *vows to look hard at self in mirror next time she wears that color*




Vidal, right?  Yeah.  Vidal.



Barza and Jojo, who has been magnificent, which I'm happy to say, but which is also easy to say since Viola didn't win.  Just bein' honest.



Barza and JMV.



Our BUM



Pasqual.  *snort*


Pirlo, being cruelly abused by Frosty.


werk it Drea.



Hey, Pep.  Wait.  Woah--check out Drea's hairz.  His stylist had mad cutting skillz.




Um, FOUL Gambit.  Watch yourself, hear?

 

That's better.  Where the fuck is Krol, anyway?



Ale scores goals, but he's more than goals and eyelashes and hair and Insufferable Secret Selabrations and standing around looking pretty.



He's starting to get pretty good at teh dramaz.



He won't take his shirt off....



...but he will help the fangirlz get a good look at Natali's furry belly.  Or, as I just mistakenly typed, Natalio's belly.



Oh, he got a goal.  Again.  *sigh*



Prance, prance, prance.


I'm running out of time here.  Do I bother to try to put these in order?





I, uh, have some ideas for that tongue, if you get bored with it.





Yeah.  Ale got the second goal, but the first goal brings with it what I've been waiting for for at least a year, so it gets the privilege of last.

Behold:  Leonardo Bonucci.



Our boy managed to be perfectly positioned to tap in a rebound.


Is this the goal too?  Was Natalio there?  Let's pretend it is.







It's been a while, so Leo was extra stoked.



Who am I kidding?  When is he ever not stoked?



Feel mah power!



Bench me again!  Go on!  I dare ya!



I'm the one you want, bitchez!  Whatever happened to mouthful o' spooge?



Running, running.  Oh, wait.  Look behind Artur.  Is that.....?  OMG YES!



YES YES YES!  A THOUSAND TIMES YES!




Somewhere up in the stands near Lapo, Andrea Agnelli is thinking about all of the money he spent on the new facilities, and calling his assistant to see to it that someone hammers the dents out of the locker doors when they are finished sexxing.


LB:  Not yet, dude.   We can have a quick one at the half.
CM:  In the tunnel.  I'm not waiting to get to the dressing room.


I've got nothing on Gila, who made it on for the second half, but I do have this from last month at Coverciano:



That is not an optical illusion, my friends.



Compare that to this scowly amphibian:



It was not a one-time deal, either:



If your mind isn't blown yet, I give you this:



Huh.  Relaxed and kinda happy.  Freaky.

And we close with The Big Jump:



..Aaaaaaand the big jump, with proof of Gio, and a teeny glimpse of PDC, if you squint.


Next match Saturday--TOMORROW--against Inter at the San Siro.  Inter may be wounded, but I'm guessing they'll bring it.  *fret fret fret*




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