Oh England, who delighted America so thoroughly with her eight-month-long wedding blow-out, whose pompous hats we secretly envy but look really really good on her, who wears pantyhose but day drinks, who throws massive shade in the form of a 19-foot-tall balloon and shrugs, who has a birthday party for nana but then jumps out on the dance floor and is all like “girrll let’s get loose!!”, who wears lime green to a wedding and makes it work, who calls her vagina a “fanny” and blogs about it on mumsnet, who adopted our girlfriend Meg and was really quite nice to our friend Kelly and who is basically our new best friend because we need one. And she’s been kinda depressed lately, too, so she can relate.
So if her great soccer victory over Sweden today might look like a testosterone-filled piss rain of man sweat and beer to those of use whose brains can not focus on or care about a sport for more than five minutes, let’s go WOOOOOOOOO! with our new bff and forget. I’m not literally going out there, but I’ll watch her drunk posting her #bestlife on the internet and quietly cheers. England, you beautiful, freaky, sloppy bitch who will be peeing in the parking lot around 1AM, deleting the photos by 6, and pulling it together in time for church with the family. I love you.