Apparently there’s some big event going on in yankland at the moment. I think it’s the superbowl, or something. It must be, the BBC aren’t fucking shutting up about it. They care more about the superbowl than the FA cup final, wandering around interviewing people having barbecues outside it and talking about how that’s really healing the disconnects of the American dream after 9/11.
One of the pigshit-thick, gun-waving cheeseburger chuggers.
Anyway, I think it’s between the Mets and the Giants, whoever they are. Mind you, New York, home of the Mets, recently got smashed up by the kamikaze as payback for all the yanks saying the tsunami in Japan was payback for Pearl Harbour a year and a half ago. Mind you, I suppose it’s up to the leader of the Mets to set the time of the game, and he’s decided to press ahead with it, so he must be confident about beating the Giants. Apparently they also need to score a touchdown in the 32nd end zone of the quarter (I think that’s right), and rarely do that.
Still they both love Israel, and Israel are spoiling for a fight with Iran, which will pull Russia and America into a war and destroy the world, ironically making all those 2012 prophecies self-fulfilling. Israelis are fucking cannibals aren’t they? Sadly they were created by the British Empire, it set out to “civilise the world” and left the most unstable yet resource-rich area of the world saddled with the most uncivilised, barbaric, paranoid nation this side of, well, yankland. Which they are basically the 51st state of anyway.
Still they’re not as bad as Zafira owners. One of them nearly fucking killed me today! Thinking it was okay to go 40mph, weaving gently from side to side, on the A14. Only a day after (and exactly across from) where somebody got killed in a crash which I didn’t witness, but which I have arbitrarily decided was caused by a witless, weaving, doddering old twat. Anyway, this one decided to pop up in front of the car in front of me, which before that had been racing down the slip road at 70mph. I left that to take care of itself and looked behind, spotting a lorry “just” far enough away to pull out in front of. I look back again and the doddery old cunt has forced the car in front of me to VIRTUALLY FUCKING STOP as it pulls out onto a 70mph road! There was seriously inches to spare between the three of us. The old git then wanders off in front of me at the next exit (with exactly three flashes of the broken indicator) and pootles up the slip road, rocking gently from side to side as his feeble consciousness wrestles with the choice of two lanes.
He actually went into the same Tesco as me, I thought about looking around for a cop car and hinting that he was drunk. Or, as he was no doubt a dozy old codger who constantly whinges about “the kids who know nothing about history”, stopping nearby and “accidentally” leaving my music blasting out as I got out. The music in question being from Showa 17-19, and fucking awesome. Japanese music peaked in 1944, seriously. I bought a whole set of CD’s of 30’s and 40’s music at the Yasukuni Shrine museum, funding it’s revisionist exhibits to the tune of over £100 (CD’s are bloody expensive there).
TSUUUUUBASA YO RI!