Vu Vu, Zela...
Hey there, 'Redheads... I hope you've got better things to do with yourself on a Friday night than I do. Here I sit, slaving over a lukewarm keyboard, so I can deliver a reheated batch of cobbled together Facebook status updates. The evening hasn't been a complete waste. I was inexplicably possessed with the urge to take a roughly three mile stroll. I think I sprained a sweat. What cured me of my case of Restful Leg Syndrome? Maybe I'm just pumped up about the Wild World of Cup...
Have you caught World Cup fever? I'm not sure what I've caught just yet. Maybe it's World Cup whooping cough. All I know is, now that the NBA has finished up, I'm ready for some futbol. Cue Hank Williams Jr. All my rowdy friends are here for...Friday morning. I was a little torn about today's game between USA and Slovenia. Of course I was rooting for the home squad, but I felt a certain kinship with the Slovenians. I've often been called "slovenly". And WOOHOO! A 2-2 tie! Yeah! Go team! Way to...finish the way you started. If there's one lesson I've learned so far watching these games it's, "Take the under." I've seen more scoring at the Amish Star Trek convention after party. I suppose I'm like most Americans. We want action. Our eyes are trained to enjoy stuff like this (WARNING: If you're epileptic, grab a spoon)...
Whatever your opinion of the action, you have to respect what these athletes are able to do on the pitch, especially when they're surrounded on all sides by a giant swarm of bees. What's that? Oh, right. That incessant buzzing is the South African ricola horn, the vuvuzela. Is it just me or does "vuvuzela" sound like the name of Jerry's girlfriend in the Telemundo Seinfeld episode where her name rhymed with a female body part? It actually reminds me of being on the floor of the World Series of Poker a couple years ago. All you could hear was 800 players continuously shuffling chips. It sounded like it was raining. So, a lone vuvuzela probably isn't so bad. A couple thousand of them and it sounds like you've got a blown speaker on your TV for the whole game.
Speaking of unbridled noisy patriotism, remove your hat and check out this ode to the American spirit...
If that doesn't get you juiced up to watch our boys leave their cleat marks in another nation's behind, then move to Russia.
That's all for now. To be continued...
Have you caught World Cup fever? I'm not sure what I've caught just yet. Maybe it's World Cup whooping cough. All I know is, now that the NBA has finished up, I'm ready for some futbol. Cue Hank Williams Jr. All my rowdy friends are here for...Friday morning. I was a little torn about today's game between USA and Slovenia. Of course I was rooting for the home squad, but I felt a certain kinship with the Slovenians. I've often been called "slovenly". And WOOHOO! A 2-2 tie! Yeah! Go team! Way to...finish the way you started. If there's one lesson I've learned so far watching these games it's, "Take the under." I've seen more scoring at the Amish Star Trek convention after party. I suppose I'm like most Americans. We want action. Our eyes are trained to enjoy stuff like this (WARNING: If you're epileptic, grab a spoon)...
Whatever your opinion of the action, you have to respect what these athletes are able to do on the pitch, especially when they're surrounded on all sides by a giant swarm of bees. What's that? Oh, right. That incessant buzzing is the South African ricola horn, the vuvuzela. Is it just me or does "vuvuzela" sound like the name of Jerry's girlfriend in the Telemundo Seinfeld episode where her name rhymed with a female body part? It actually reminds me of being on the floor of the World Series of Poker a couple years ago. All you could hear was 800 players continuously shuffling chips. It sounded like it was raining. So, a lone vuvuzela probably isn't so bad. A couple thousand of them and it sounds like you've got a blown speaker on your TV for the whole game.
Speaking of unbridled noisy patriotism, remove your hat and check out this ode to the American spirit...
If that doesn't get you juiced up to watch our boys leave their cleat marks in another nation's behind, then move to Russia.
That's all for now. To be continued...
Labels: comedy, funny, Jared Stern, soccer, vuvuzela, World Cup
posted by Jared at 10:40 PM
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