The curse of the World Cup
Wednesday, June 7th, 2006I am cursed. The curse reveals itself every four years during the World Cup. Since 1990 I have split up/or had a close splitting up call with every man I have been dating during a World Cup. And not due to arguing over the football (I always support Italy with a favourable eye on Sweden [...]
Dragged kicking and screaming by inconsiderate parents around the globe may explain my wanderlust, my kawaii obsession and the need to document.
Then again it may be down to eating drugged cupcakes.
