So the play I'm currently rehearsing my rear end off for made the New York Times (a tiny bit - scroll down to 'Free Summer Parks Shows') today, and the book Krissa and I are in comes out on Friday. There's still time to pre-order the book and get free shipping. If you're living on Tuvalu in the South Pacific (and I know at least one of you does) the cost of the shipping could dwarf the cost of the book. So put that canoe paddle down and get your arse in gear, laddie.
In terms of England's chances for Saturday, I'm holding out little hope beyond this stage, although normally I'd feel pretty confident that England could beat Portugal. My confidence in England decreases with increasing altitude up the tournament diagram.
We are looking the other direction so when they win, we'll say:
"Oh! Oh yes, that game! Well, how FABulous for them. So nice to not see them robbed of glory like the Socceroos. O' England." That way, we won't jinx anything with our eager anticipation. I am already flagging a bit in energy due to the valleys and peaks of pleasure and pain that is World Cup.
May leisure find you soon.
This time, miracle of miracles (being the Irishman that I am), I have actually put a fiver on England to win. I only bet when it's a dead cert.
POrtugal have been pretty crap and fairly lucky so far, that will all change on Saturday (all except the crapness, that is).