Thursday, June 17, 2010

soccer heroin


You dick.

Throbbing hard cock monkeys. Look what that card did to our nation, squirrel wanker. And it only touched his ankle.

I have flu. My Brit touches down in less than two days, and I was planning to look like a sex goddess on his arrival at OR Tambo. With red flaky nose and a head full of snot, I'm guessing that's not going to do anything for his human vuvuzela.

Even if we haven't seen each other for 7 weeks.

I'll strap on an industrial size bottle of Vaseline to my schnozz tonight to abate the nasal hell that is my face.

Whilst I whack on my sexy time bed linen.

Besides that, am feeling awfully depressed about the game last night. In the freezing testicular-choking cold yesterday, we headed to Doc's for a Bafana Braai. And readily got thumped by Uruguay, and felt a dislodging and seething hatred for the snarky commentator and ref after stuffing a boerie roll in my face during the nail biting match.

What gives? How can he red card our brave little goalie proceeding battle with the French?

I am utterly and unforgivably fucked off about this; it's just not gravy. I am cringe to watch the Bafana-French game now, because I might smash the nearest plasma screen out of indescribable angst.

Fuck. So this is what sport is about.

Sweeping emotions for your team, coupled with jubilant elation if they draw nevermind win a game. I get it now. I get why sports fanatics are like they are.
This is the world I've been missing out my whole life of being an arts student and writer whose interest is history and language, not so much activities that involved excessive sweating in polyester.

Crisis. It's like being on drugs.

The high is fantastic, and the comedown makes you want to throw your LG printer into the bath tub. Hit me up on soccer heroin baby - just be warned, I'm a bitch to be around when we don't win.

PS: South African supporters leaving the stadium before the match is over, shame on you. What is that pants? Leaving Bafana at their time of need, because you want to miss the traffic home? The game was sad, but that was the saddest aspect of it all.

Grrr.

6 comments:

SheBee said...

Dude - I so get where you're coming from. With regards to the whole soccer love and the sexy time sheets. Mine are silky red, what are yours?

YAY YOUR BRIT IS COMING!

(Take that however you like).

MamaMeeA said...

Oy, Peas! You know, most pharmacies have a flu cocktail for about 50 bucks. It's a whole whack of pills to swallow in one go & it'll knock you out for 24 hours but you'll be sorted the next day.
Also, totally agree about South Africa's fair weather support for Bafana - not Ayoba, folks!
Can't believe you'll be out of here in just a few weeks' time... I hope you'll continue to entertain us from across the pond!

Peas on Toast said...

SheBee - he's commmmmming! In like 36 hours he'll be here, am so excited, can you tell can you tell!?! :)

Loving the silk vibe - mine are the same too, except in that deep purple 'sex me up' colour. ;)

Mama - Dude this is BRILLIANT news. I'm heading to the chemist now, although i fear it may be too late, I look like the bride of frankenstein, not cool!

(As for the 'supporting' crowd, I hang my head in absolute shame, how could they?!)

I'll totally be blogging from across the pond, I'll probably need an outlet more than ever, what with all the new shit I'm going to be exposed to :)

士嬌 said...

It is never too late to learn. .................................................................

Rémy, The Quill said...

That red card cut so deep! I was sitting behind a woman who almost ripped of her weave in despair! Honestly, there is nothing more depressing than when your team loses. Everything seems to go wrong when it happens - the skies open up (this being Cape Town) it is normal, work seems boring, your friends make you angry and your gal looks like she put on weight...Sigh...that red card.

Let us hope that they thump Les Frogs.

uWulethu ivuvuzela yami! (Bring me my vuvuzela!) Hahahahaahahaha!

HotSlice said...

Nice article.