NYCFC comes to my stadium in two days, so the rest of my week belongs to me — pasta on the stove, no pants, house rules. I run this kitchen the same way I run everything else. Come be my taste test, baby.
NYCFC comes to my stadium in two days, so the rest of my week belongs to me — pasta on the stove, no pants, house rules. I run this kitchen the same way I run everything else. Come be my taste test, baby.
Four to nothing and a clean sheet — DC never even got a look in. Two days later I'm still walking around my place in the matchday jersey and not much else, riding that high. Tell me you watched it too, baby.
Kickoff isn't till tonight but I've been up since dark, and this jersey went on way too early. Now I've got a whole day to fill before DC United gets what's coming to them. Come help me burn off these nerves, baby.
DC United gets all of me tomorrow, so tonight the tub gets me first. Come see what I get up to when the water's this warm, baby.
Two days till DC United and sleep wants nothing to do with me, so the rod and the dock got the nod instead. Water's black and quiet and I'm in no rush to head back. Come keep my spot warm, baby.
Empty schedule this week, so I took all that leftover energy to the court instead. Nobody out here can keep up with me — think you're the exception, baby?
DC United isn't till Saturday, so the week belongs to my camera and this new lace set. First frames in and I'm the one getting worked up. Come be my test audience, baby.
No Miami match today, so I claimed a bar stool and made the early games my business. Jersey on, wings coming, whole afternoon to kill. Pull up the stool next to mine.
Back from Columbus and sleep isn't winning — DC United can have me next week, tonight the controller has me. Come take the second player slot, baby.
Three days later and that stoppage-time goal still hasn't left my head — I'm up in the dark in nothing but the away shirt, watching it happen all over again. Come be my consolation prize, baby.