Last night, Sam Stosur won her first tennis major by thoroughly thrashing Serena Williams. Yes, tennis. Some of us watch classy sports like that. Hell, I've been to the U.S. Open twice. Anyway, this was the first time that I can ever remember not rooting for Serena. Why you ask?
Because I'm in love with Samantha Stosur's arms.
I want her to punch me in the face with them.
I want her to defend my honor at some bar and punch the fuck outta somebody.
I was pretty infatuated with her during the French Open two years ago. I think she should have won, but she lost to the old, funny-looking, Italian chick. I thought that there was something powerful in her play, but I couldn't nail down what made her so attractive. I mean, the way her balls kick out makes for great tennis. It wasn't until last night, while watching her destroy one of my girls, that I said aloud what it was.
I turned to Annie and told her how much Stosur's arms did it for me. Annie replied by notifying me that her arms were way too big, and that they look like they belong to a man. Her conclusion was that I must be in love with big, strong, muscular men. Maybe this is my first step in admitting how hot muscles are. Maybe Annie is pushing me outta the closet. Maybe I really do just one some crazy girl with arm muscles to punch me in the face. Wait, did I already say that?
You and me, Stosur. You and me. Have your people call mine,
~RoB
