So jealous of those of you in Europe with the privilege of
watching these games at a reasonable hour…some thoughts on Round Two:
1) Yes, we’ve slowed to an unacceptable crawl. Too many
draws. As documented in “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”, any
journey will exhibit a brief anticlimactic letdown on the second day. Following
this inevitable setback we will yell at our children for no good reason,
pontificate on our own borderline insanity, and eventually compose a faux Happy
Ending that conveys only the most disturbing madness to every single individual
but the manic writer. I forget. Was there some I point I was meant to be making
here?
2) These Asian teams need to “Steppe” it up. Oh yes. Are we
feeling that pun? J What the phlebotomizing fuck happened to Japan? If
you can’t roll over Belgium, the flattest land on earth, who can you actually
steamroll? I’m also very disappointed in my Chinese. I wanted General Tso’s
chicken and you supplied a low-grade order of shrimp fried rice. L
Perhaps the Chinese are like sushi at an all-you-can-eat buffet; a poor
imitation likely to give you food poisoning. Ugh. At least I still have my
Koreans..purring along like a masterfully engineered Hyundai…er Daewoo…er…let’s
get some decent cars manufactured my brothers!
3) Yes I have thoughts on the German-Irish tie. I humbly
express my gratitude. It would not be my desire to spend the next four years
teasing those of Irish heritage. In many small German towns, the Irish pub
provides the only outlet for a bunch of uptight Kraut farmers looking to blow
off a little steam. The Irish and the Germans shall always share a special
bond: We both believe in getting frighteningly drunk and eating appallingly bad
food. The next morning we’ll get up and do it all over again. J
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Listen up all young aspiring writers out there (all of
the both of you); Here comes a tip from the old veteran. Skip Pirsig’s “Zen and
the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.” For that matter, don’t even consider
picking up “Lilla”. If you’ve opted to embark upon the creative path, chances
are you already have a depressingly distracted father with deranged and idiot
ideas. Talk to him instead. J The intimation of a
“special relationship between the Germans and the Irish was written a full
eight years before I learned that the Irish were the first to receive the
German football team in the postwar years. The term “ what the hemorrhaging
fuck” originally came from Douglas Adam’s 1992 masterpiece “Mostly Harmless”.
Already in 2002 the search for a synonym or two sent me diving into the
Thesaurus for an alternatives such as “phlebotomizing fuck”. The eerily attuned
observer of my work might note that I have used some variation of this phrase
in practically everything that I’ve written. Thankfully there is no such
observer…leaving this deduction to some poor future undergraduate student
struggling through a course at the “Department of Vice Studies” at Lebowski
University on Hypothetical Earth 43-E.
Friday
Sweden vs. Nigeria
vs. 
Are the Swedes for real or did the English merely let them run over them over in the same manner most any West London gent will let you knock him off his bicycle? Difficult to say. I must choose the latter. The Nigerians have a great deal more to show us. I expect to see it now. Win or I’m throwing all my support behind the “Reunite Biafra Movement.”
THE LINE: Nigeria+1 Goal
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Sweden 2, Nigeria 1. Grrrr. Africa Bias is a
serious problem. Talk to your doctor about Africa Bias today. Symptoms may
include unflinching love of the darkies, a misplaced notion of social justice,
a romantic desire to bring order to the universe, and a fro fetish. Fuck me. I
still contend that the Super Eagles could have won this game were it not for
Larsson’s lucky bounce and a questionable PK. Talk to your doctor about
“Explaining Away Betting Losses Syndrome” today. Symptoms may include bitter
fantasies, excessive alcohol consumption, cat abuse, anti-academic tirades,
naked lawn heavens beseeching, and triple simultaneous cigarette smoking.
Spain vs. Paraguay
vs. 
vs.
Espana excited all of us. This may very well be their year.
Valeron and Hierro display sublime skill. The Spanish are out of the gate and
charging down the stretch. By all accounts they should be given due respect and
a satin cushion. The Torros shall stampede on.
THE LINE: Spain+2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Spain 3, Paraguay 1. This Spanish team was
stacked. How they managed to choke remains a mystery. Perhaps there existed
some dearth of confidence. Spanish confidence went sky high in 2008…the same
year Javier Bardem became the most badass Spanish villain ever.
Argentina vs. England
vs. 
The clash of the Titans is upon us. The favorites to win it all square off against the country that invented the game and hosts the top league. After the abysmal debut of the Argentines, I cannot invest any more change in this team until they show me something. They should recover in time to make the Round of 16, but they shall not receive my backing here.
THE LINE: England+1 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: England 1, Argentina 0. Beckham scored the goal.
Regrettably it was not a “Beckham Specialty” but a wholly uninspiring penalty
taken just before the close of the first half. Any international football fan
must rue the loss of the “Beckham Specialty”. The sight of Posh Spice tilting
forward in excitement to reveal a hint of cleavage is something we will all
miss. Admit it.
Saturday
South Africa vs. Slovenia
vs. 
vs.
Not trusting these Balkan bastards. After their anemic
showing against Spain, I’m livid about laying any paper down on these stumbling
Slavs. By contrast, a bet on Jomo Sono’s
African Princes seems most agreeable. Zuma and Mokena play as if someone
lit a fire underneath their posteriors. It’s a brand new day down by the Cape
of Good Hope and I refuse to bet against a Manchester United Midfielder named
Quinton “Fortune”. C’mon, bafana. Mine me some diamonds! I’m riding my
Australopithecus all the way too the bank. “Bring me my machine gun”!!
THE LINE: South Africa+1 Goal
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: South Africa 1, Slovenia 0. Tis’ a rare day when
faith in Sub-Saharan Africa pays off. What a glorious morning, replete with
some curiously bizarre Caucasian renditions of “Bring me my machine gun!” I
confess a freakish fondness for that song. I also take sadistic pleasure in
crooning “Shoot the Boer”. Here’s one white boy prepared to defend Malema. The
post-apartheid ANC-dominated government is insufficient. We are simply supposed
to pretend as if all this never happened, give darkie the crown while honky
keeps the jewels, watch some piece-of-shit Clint Eastwood movie and all feel
better about ourselves. Fuck that.
Anyone who dismisses the latent historical issue of
social justice by purporting to live in a meritorious society (this goes for
you too, Americans) should ask themselves what sort of meritocracy ensures that
the laziest academics are the most well compensated, big shots who don’t even
write claim every entertainment industry “producer” credit, and one cannot call
a customer service line without getting a worthless, surly, and self-entitled
cunt who talks down to you. Level playing field, you say? Not possible when we
are inherently a race that insists upon the most amount of credit for the least
amount of effort. “I deserve this power”. That’s what the Afrikaners said right
up until the point that they were forced to modify that to “I deserve this
money”.
Italy vs. Croatia
vs. 
vs.
The Wops are off to a cracking start and the Croatian
knocked the torpid Chinese back to the Cultural Revolution. Confidence meets
Bravado. Must it be true that Bravado wins this encounter? I’m afraid we’ve
arrived at a sad verisimilitude of Realpolitik. The Croats cannot hope to
compete against Francesco Totti and Allesandro del Piero. Nesta and di Livio
are the midfield veterans who feed those young strikers perfectly placed balls
all day long. This one could get ugly. *Sigh* Another round to the Guineas.
THE LINE: Italy +2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Croatia 2, Italy 1. Hmmmm…young naiveté. I was
too young to realize that this team was coached by Giovanni Trapatonni. If you
don’t know you this bombastic clown is…well you haven’t been reading my
desperate attempts to extract some meaning from an otherwise banal existence.
Oh well. No hard feelings. We’ll have plenty of archival material to come.
Brazil vs. China
vs. 
Even the Falun Gong will be pressed to find some ardor in this match. I’ll bet on my own mother going a day without breaking down over something insignificant before I bet on those filthy Commies again. The imminent bloodbath will prove more embarrassing to the Chinese than the day we accidentally cluster-bombed their Serbian Mission. Hard to engineer a Great Leap Forward when you’re sitting on your flat ass. Denilson grabs a brace. Ronaldo and Juninho take care of the rest.
THE LINE: Brazil +4 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Brazil 4, China PR 0. There was fear. After my
head crashed through the windshield of the Chinese bandwagon, the unavoidable
trepidation that the bandwagon would make a 180-degree turn and ride roughshod
over my bloody torso surfaced. Thankfully, the Samba Kings came through in what
Red from the Shawshank Redemption would consider “fine style.” Roberto Carlos
and Rivaldo contributed some fine long-ranged strikes. Then the Reds got
filthy….Tori Black filthy. An inexcusable challenge on Ronaldo in the box led
to a Ronaldino penalty. After the restart, Ronaldo himself took advantage of
the spot kick after another clumsy challenge.
Dirty, dirty
Chinese. This would be one reason I continue to flirt with yet ultimately
eschew “little China girls”. Something tells me they would have a more sinister
move than merely telling me to shut my mouth. I could definitely use a woman to
tell me that. That’s no problem. I simply crave assurances that I won’t be
kneed in the shin during my finest hour. Find me a woman that will not impede
my progress towards goal!
Sunday
Mexico vs. Ecuador
vs. 
A respectable opening performance by the Spicks + the solemn
fact that Ecuador sucks and doesn’t belong here = Fiesta Time. Looking for a
comfortable win from the shallow swimmers here. Also looking for some
Jack-in-the-Box Tacos. No plausible explanation for those abominations exists.
The meat stuffed into those tacos has the same texture of the canned Friskies I
serve my cat. Nevertheless, it’s dirt cheap, filling, and a reliable way to sop
up the hangover you’ve earned stuck in the Jack-in-the-Box Drive-Thru Line for
close to an hour.
THE LINE: Mexico +2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Mexico 2, Ecuador 1. Does the verified usage of
“shallow swimmers” BACK IN 2002 give you some idea of why it’s pointless to
build a border fence?!?! Even a Nineteen-year-old kid stupid enough to eat at
Jack-in-the-Box could tell there was no stemming the immigration tide. Let’s
give it up, people. Immigrants come to eat up the jobs you consider yourself
too important for.
Within 100 years, Mexicans will be running NASA while
white chicks and their pussy-whipped boyfriends compose theses on their sense
of cultural identity. Sorry to be the cynical ghostwriter, everyone. If you’d
seen what I have over the past three years, your conviction would similarly be
shaken to the very core. To quote Douglas Adams from “Restaurant at the End of
the Universe”, “The human race is currently over the hill pausing only from
their futile committee meetings to make documentaries about themselves.” Okay.
Might have embellished that a bit. Actual work is everything. Eigentlich,
Arbeit macht frei.
News
Let’s take a break so that I might inform those who give a
damn about life in the 225. My cat Miles is growing like a weed. Petsmart
assures me that they have no larger litter boxes in stock, so the little
poop-machine is keeping me busy. As much as I enjoyed driving other people’s
cars at obscene speeds down River Road, I quit my job as an Argosy Casino
Valet. Too many graveyard shifts. I’d prefer to concentrate on school…and my
little red sports car affectionately dubbed “Deo-Diablo”.
I recently drove “DD” to visit my relatives in Philly. They
showed no signs of being aware that I was even there, expect for the time I
came home late. My grandfather is still a miserable fuck. He let the following
diatribe loose:
“You…you…..you….you…you….you…are not my blood. You
are……….but you aren’t”. Following that he coughed for a solid ten minutes. That
was a nice trip. My friend ----- and I are close to launching “Poor College
Student Lawn Care.” We’ll treat your grass for beer money! I’ve signed up for
some interesting classes in the Fall Semester. Every afternoon it rains…which
means I’ll be looking for some mushrooms soon.
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
………………somehow hindsight should enable me to add something
to this temporal piece…………..can’t do it. What a perfect description of that
time! Well done, past Vice! I hope I meet you in a phone booth outside the
Circle K someday!
Costa Rica vs. Turkey
vs. 
Speaking of teams that don’t belong here, who the hell cares about compendiary little Costa Rica?? It doesn’t get much more inconsequential than CONCACAF. My Turkmen will barrel down upon this team, smothering them with all the zest of Kerouac after receiving his unemployment check! Go, Turkmen, Go! Ich glaube!
THE LINE: Turkey +2 Goals
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Turkey 1, Costa Rica 1. The use of “compendiary”
as a corresponding adjectival modifier was lamentable. TIP FOR YOUNG WRITERS:
The Thesaurus isn’t always your friend. I once wrote a love letter to girl
expressing my joy that we…er…………………. “Amalgamated”. Ugh. Such shame L
Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last long. Use the Thesaurus sparingly. Rely on your own internal
compass. Experience will dictate to you when something sounds a bit off. Let
the intrinsic flow guide you. At least it’s genuine. J
Japan vs. Russia
vs. 
Where my Russo-Japanese war buffs at? No, seriously, where we at?? Fuck it. Most of you probably haven’t heard of the Russo-Japanese war. Based on a random sampling of History Channel content, I assume no one knows anything beyond Hitler. L Call in to your PBS Station, everyone. Amazing that it took us three rounds to find a match that mirrors an actual historical conflict. France vs. Senegal was a colonial match up. England vs. Sweden was an archaic colonial match up. Germany vs. Ireland was a match up of two beaten-down colonies. Now we can take a page from Baton Rouge Car Dealers and “declare war on the competition”!
Excitement doesn't allow me to sit still or keep a thought
in my head. I want nothing more
than to pick a draw. However, I also like my balls (however ugly they may be)
and am overcome by the insatiable urge to go with the home team….the one that
won the Russo-Japanese war. The
Land of the Rising Sun is the pick.
THE LINE: Japan +1 Goal
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Japan 1, Russia 0. What a game! Inamoto struck
shortly after the restart and Narazaki fended off the Russian hordes until the
referee blew. Romantsev tried some aggressive substitutions to no avail. The
Blue Samurai were resolute to the very end. This was back in the day when all
Russian players still had a name ending in “kov”. How far we’ve come.
Now only sixty percent of the Russian electorate says
fuck it and downs another shot of Vodka! Since the writing of this piece, the
History Channel has diversified to include such edifying selections as “Ancient
Aliens”, “The Nostradamus Effect” and, of course, the ever informative “Swamp
Bayou Alligator Tabasco Shrimping Collective”. My personal opinion happens to
be that that “Zydeco Crawfish Rajun Cajun Wars” is more
entertaining…………….though one shouldn’t discount “Creole Billionaires”, “Guns,
Gators, and Cockfights”, or “Getting Lagniappe Laid with Louisiana Ladies.”
Monday
South Korea vs. USA
vs. 
Oh hell yes. The incredible triumph over Portugal is a thing
of the past. Now comes the real test. Can you best the hosts with the most?
Here’s the thing, Yanks: The laws of gravity dictate that you must come down.
One cannot visualize anything more than a draw. Physics trumps everything. The
Earth cannot be vacated absent a controlled explosion of epic proportions. We
have another pick. Bet on your own team if you dare. The draw shall win.
THE LINE: Pick em’
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: South Korea 1, USA 1. Goading, goading, goading.
It was around this time, rolling in more money than a porn star, that I decided
picking draws during the group stages was flat out wrong. Rolling in money was
fun, as I’m sure starring in Porn is fun…..okay, Sasha Grey. Don’t you ever
feel dirty? Male porn actors, don’t you sense the slightest feeling of guilt
sticking it up some poor girl’s ass? I’m determined to be a clean bookie..who
likes the occasional ass fuck.
Tunisia vs. Belgium
vs. 
Zzzzzzzzz…..zzzzzzzz. Honk. Snort. Where “was” we? Oh right. We were at two picks in a row. I see neither of these countries scoring a goal. Pick em
THE LINE: Pick em’
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Tunisia 1, Belgium 1. BOTH SIDES SCORED A GOAL!
The game still sucked. What a piece of shit! Two goals within the first 17
minutes followed by non-stop trench warfare. Fuck “Harold and Kumar go to
Whitecastle”. This was the game where “Vice and Allain went to Taco Bell.”
Portugal vs. Poland
vs. 
Double “Ps” = one damn debilitating match. The Poles might as well hit the stripper poles. It’s all over. The Navigators shall dominate the “Pole Position”. The Poles haven’t a prayer.
THE LINE: Portugal +3 Goals
GENTLEMEN, ENTER YOUR WAGES
Editor’s
retroactive notes:
Result: Portugal 4, Poland 0. Yes, a very good
ass-spanking to end the round. How strange it is to acknowledge an ass
spanking. Visions fill the mind.
Okay….let’s settle for an inappropriate rant on the state of strippers these
days. Ahem….I miss the days when
one could hear “Cherry Pie”, “Let me see you Stripped”, “Pour some Sugar..”,
and “Hots for Teacher” at a Strip Club. Sorry, my beloved contortionists.
You’re skinny and perfectly capable of doing Circe’d’Soleil Magic. Your
gymnastic ability is amazing…..try out for the U.S. team J
J
J
