Sunday, March 14, 2010


Waiting for the World Cup is like shoving my face full of Christmas cookies and counting the hours to Christmas. I'm saving my voice up so l can scream my head off like Chewbacca at the vet.

Here's a translation for those of you who don't speak Dutch:

"The Dutch are driving now... and the ball falls to DeBoer... oh wait, the delivery guy just walked in. Thank you Mr. Delivery man for this giant meat grinder. I'll just... OH MY GOD MY ARM! TURN IT OFF!
TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF! ARRRHHHHH! DEAR LORD! Please someone call an ambulance."

On a lighter note, nothing seals a goal like an a little operatic improv.

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