Be Careful What You Wish For

Boy, who knew there was anyone out there that really cared whether I ever posted again or not?

I'm flattered. To borrow a line from a giggly and slighly drunk actress accepting a statuette, "You like me. You really like me."

You poor sods.

Besides, you people couldn't have picked a worse time to try and rouse me from my stupor. And trust me, Skippy, a stupor created from an amalgalm (I like that word, by the way) of pseudo-ephedrine, alcohol, carne asada, and some intensely delicious and wickedly spicy salsa is one hell of a thing from which to be roused. Yep, no prepositions ending that sentence.

The thing is, I am feeling kind of frisky these days, and it isn't because I have again sampled Vanilla Ice Cream. I fear that will not ever be coming back, although I have recently developed a taste for newer flavors. But that is besides the point. Where was I? Oh yes, frisky.

It's the quadrennial even that keeps me from eating a bullet during the three off years that has my pecker up now. And if the opening was any indication, I am in for a month of orgasmic indulgence.

Germany beat Costa Rica in a wide open match, 4-2, which saw Miroslav Klose finally step on to the stage to live up to some of the hype he had in 98 and 02. He netted 2 goals (same as Wanchope for the Ticos), but the story was more the style of play. Up and down, with not the most elegant defense on either side. My Azzurri take the pitch on Monday, which is both good and bad. Good as in it gives me two more days to work into a frenzy, but bad as I will be at work, and unable to watch it until I get home and hit the play button on the VCR. Yes, that is VCR, not TiVo. I am so 1990's.

My big dilemma is whether to tape the ESPN feed, or the Mexican station. I think I'll opt for the Mexican as it will be far more nostalgic.

Oh, don't worry if none of the above made sense to you. It just means you're a provincial American doofus with about as much grasp of world culture as a concussed bee.

What else? Oh, I've found that I like NOFX. They strike me as very similar to the Offspring in that they are basically just a good old punk band.

Will someone please explain to me why there are still morons out there who believe that our invasion of Iraq was in any way jutified by prevailing events or the incessant beat on the 9/11 drum? A non-sequitor, I know, but it still amazes me. The idiots and boneheads who accept the propaganda behind it just amaze me. Though they do tend to help me understand how something like the NSDAP ever reached power. All I have to say to them is: You're an idiot. Endy story. No arguments. You are an idiot. Sell your nonsense to the tourists, because I'm not as dumb as you are to buy it.

So, are all you bitches happy? I've posted. Get off my tits and let me watch more footy.

Ook ook