And the French fell, and the fall thereof was great.

I like the French. I do. In fact, I probably like France a lot more than most Americans. I'm always trying to convince Jessie that French is just as cool and useful a language as Spanish (which is probably not true, at least here in Utah, but you'll never hear me admit that to him.) However, last night I was proud to be bashing on those arrogant, trash-talking French. As many of you may have deduced, I'm talking about the Olympic men's 400m freestyle relay, in which our mighty U.S. men put those overrated European blow-hards to shame. It's because of races like last night that you should never, ever, ever trash talk your opponents, even if you're 99% sure you're going to beat them. (This is a skill I'm still trying to learn in Speed Scrabble, but honestly: I'm practically untouchable.) So I'd just like to give a shout out to the Olympic team, especially my new hero, Jason Lezak. Because as much as I love you, Michael Phelps, and am rooting for you to break all the records, we all know it was Lezak who pulled it out. Go team.