The end of a dream. Unless you are Italian.
It occurs to me that the World Cup is just a fucking enormously huge disappointment for almost everyone who is watches it. Seriously, what exactly is the point? Apart, of course, from the entire world being continuously force-fed unpalatable shovelfuls of unwelcome advertising gruel for months until it dribbles down our collective chins, pooling in our super-mega-massive World Cup Big-Mac/"Believe"/Budweiser/Coca-Cola engorged laps, seeping into our shit patriotic high street t-shirts and dripping onto the one million pairs of Predator boots we bought. Well, you bought. Losers ;o)
It is a hateful affair, and I didn't win so much as a penny on the sweepstake (which was the only thing that managed to ignite even the weakest flicker of interest).
Wimbledon is equally tiresome, thank god that's over. If I have to put up with the sight of one more moronic, rain-hat wearing old biddy speculating cheerfully that maybe the Brits can win it this year as she clutches a tupperware box of jam sandwiches to her chest, I will be forced to go down to SW19 myself (and listen up old ladies, I'm only a postcode away these days) and beat the deluded old bint with a BBC microphone. It'll certainly make more interesting viewing than several ghastly, self-aware teens yanking a bloody rain cover on and off the court. Oh well, at least Pete Sampras isn't playing anymore. The sight of his stupid Labrador face with its lolling tongue made me want to batter him to death with his trophy.
Is it all over now? Can we please return to a normal summer schedule of endless, mind-numbing, head-in-the-oven repeats? I had a day off the other week and I COULDN'T WATCH NEIGHBOURS BECAUSE OF THE TENNIS. I can't even begin to put into words how furious that makes me.
It is a hateful affair, and I didn't win so much as a penny on the sweepstake (which was the only thing that managed to ignite even the weakest flicker of interest).
Wimbledon is equally tiresome, thank god that's over. If I have to put up with the sight of one more moronic, rain-hat wearing old biddy speculating cheerfully that maybe the Brits can win it this year as she clutches a tupperware box of jam sandwiches to her chest, I will be forced to go down to SW19 myself (and listen up old ladies, I'm only a postcode away these days) and beat the deluded old bint with a BBC microphone. It'll certainly make more interesting viewing than several ghastly, self-aware teens yanking a bloody rain cover on and off the court. Oh well, at least Pete Sampras isn't playing anymore. The sight of his stupid Labrador face with its lolling tongue made me want to batter him to death with his trophy.
Is it all over now? Can we please return to a normal summer schedule of endless, mind-numbing, head-in-the-oven repeats? I had a day off the other week and I COULDN'T WATCH NEIGHBOURS BECAUSE OF THE TENNIS. I can't even begin to put into words how furious that makes me.
posted by Elizabeth at 6:03 PM
3 Comments:
I had, and in some ways still do have, a MASSIVE crush on Pete Sampras. The sticky-out-tongue thing was a sign of very intense concentration and I found it devastatingly attractive.
(I'm not joking.)
what is it with England and those bloody horrible flags, it used to be enough just to have one on your car, but now people seem to think that any and every available space on their car should be taken up with cheap nylon flags so that they look like they've driven through a chinese laundry.
but the worst thing about the whole world cup-itis/wimbledon palava is infact the fact that there is no Neighbours, just when you need a bit of mindless drivel to relieve the sports filled boredom, we are left barren. i think i may write a strongly worded letter. I was almost overwhelmed with anticipation when i thought about the lou/russian bird shenanigans.
i agree that something should be done about the ridiculous optimism of the grannies on Henman Hill and the well-to-do's who don't have to queue for their tickets... England have been shit at tennis since the days of Henry the Eigth and just ecause some young brit who looks like a horse wins one round the country goes insane, and suddenly "we've got a chance". We've got more chance of sprouting wings and flying to a more temperate part of the world than winning any kind of internationally acclaimed competition!
rant over. the bile is obscuring my vision.
love becca
ps: i got brazil in the sweepstakes and thought i was onto a winner til the french took them out - gutted, could have won £40 and bought a new wardrobe from primark.
pps: pete sampras was more of a monkey/labrador hybrid methinks
Actually I liked the world cup for one thing - all the streets, the beach and waitrose - were empty when the matches were on. It was great - all the plebian, barracking throng contained in pubs and living rooms throughout the country. Keep 'em out of my way that's what I say.
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