It’s 12:30 am here and Andy Roddick’s tennis match is still going on. I don’t know if I can watch much more of it. It’s just too tense. Plus he looks so much like my brother that I find myself getting emotionally over-invested. It’s weird.

Half an hour later: Holy crap. Hooray for Roddick! Obviously he was just waiting for me to blog the match before he won it. How tense was that? Not even the Snook’s sudden discovery that his vat of beer leaked five liters in the cupboard under the stairs could tear me away.

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