0-2-1
Having the US team rolled out of the World Cup after the first round is really kind of a relief. Now I can just watch the rest of the games nursing my peptic ulcer instead of feeding its unquenchable thirst for stomach acid.

For those of you who didn't watch, Italy won their match as we needed them to. With win over Ghana, we would have been through.

Ghana 2-1 USA.

The first half was very exciting. We even scored a goal.

Mystery penalty kick given to Ghana and that was about it.

If you want to know how the second half went, here, I can show you:

Oooh, look at the sad Ghana man laying there. Now picture that for about 50 minutes. Every collision an injury, every injury a reason to lay on the field and kill some time off the clock. This is why people hate soccer, including--as of right now, until about noon today--me.

Now I have to go. I'm in a bad mood. It's not just the game, it's that my eldest boy wrote with allegedly "eraseable" marker all up and down the railings upstairs. It's a whole series of glyphs that are largely undecipherable, but when I piece them together like Tom Hanks in that one movie from that crappy book, they read "I Hate Dad." So instead of being witty for your bemusement, I shall spend my morning painting a railing.

And now, just so this whole post isn't a total wasted downer, I leave you with a picture of a dog wearing sunglasses.


Auf wiedersehen, Deutschland.



[Narcissus Scale given the day off to drink and generally make an ass of itself.]


Pops
- posted by Pops @ 9:13 AM