Hot with a Chance of Sexy: Petr Jiracek

Okay.  As I stated in an earlier post, finding biographical, "National Enquirer"-er information about some of the lesser known footballers has been like trying to find Plutonium. Because of this lack of internet information, my new Euro 2012 boo, Petr Jiracek, is a mere shadowy figure in my dreams. My Czech incubus.  There is not dust on this kid on the interwebs in the form of good, juicy gossip that we girls care about.  So, I will go with the bare facts that I have learned, and then I will replay the interview that Petr and I had in my head after I obviously ingested some bath salts.  And, yes in that interview I did try to eat his face- but not in the cannibal Miami way. Kidding.  There is no interview- I am not that crazy.

This 26-year-old midfielder is a 5"11 Pisces Tiger born on 3/2/1986.  He plays for the German team Vfl Wolfsburg after signing a four and a half year deal in December 2011.  Goal.com just named him World Player of the week Monday, but I knew that on Saturday after the game in which they defeated Poland 1-0. Not only did Jiracek score the beautiful winning goal, minutes later he took a shot to the face to block a long- range Polish attempt.  Hmmm.  A dominate and a submissive? I can get on dick with that (apologies- he brings it out of me).

Please let me say that I don't think for a hot minute this dude is the best looking or best player I have seen since June 8th. He's not.  But he's a great athlete and when those crazy ass, nearly demonic eyes are stilled, as in the lead picture, I want him to lie with me in the grass looking up at the sky until we can perfect the castle in the clouds in which we are going to live forever.  Yeah, that.  There is just something about him.

When I watch him charge down the pitch-hair flying, eyes ablaze, face set in a fierce mask of steely determination- he doesn't seem so much to be chasing a ball as he seems to be leading a people.  I want to jump on a horse and charge behind him and kill anything that threatens him, then stretch along beside him and have his babies.  He brings that crazy-murderous-emboldened-frightened- I will do anything for you- but if you betray me I will do anything to you- Medea type madness.  And if I can get all that through the television, can you imagine what would happen if I met him?  I'd probably sniff his neck for an obviously and inappropriately too long amount of time, orgasm, and start crying.  I kid, bitches. Only 2 of those 3 things would happen. Seriously though, he's mad intense and I find that I love that so much-perchance because it's the opposite of me, but that's more a discussion for my Snoopy journal than this blog.

I know that when the Czechs play Portugal tomorrow many eyes will quietly sneak side glances at Crissy- no matter how much bitches claim to hate him and chant "Messi" while he's playing.  He's a pretty, pretty man- my eyes will surely be watching him too. But when I see my modern day foot warrior charge down the pitch, that's where my eyes will land and stay: on this Petr Jiracek ("Jiracek" doesn't really translate to English from the insane babble in my brain, but it basically means, "I will drag you in a cave and take you, and you will like it.") And although Portugal is heavily favored in this match, and I have thus far been unable to decide which team to scream for through the end of the tourny, I know now that I will be on my horse behind Jiracek and his men until the final whistle is blown.