Les Bleus reigns supreme, so I’m told

National pride is running high–I’m in France by the way (of course there is no American pride left, no matter how many stupid red hats you toss around)–and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to speak on something I know absolutely nothing about. You may be one of a multitude of out of shape, over-the-hill fanatics, glued to the tube and living vicariously through the health, beauty and success of the 2018 World Cup participants. Or you may be like me and barely know what the f… futbal is and care even less. As an American, Nathan’s Annual 4th of July Hot Dog Eating Contest on Coney Island is a sport I can wrap my head around. Hedonistic revulsion at its finest. I can’t look away. Those boys have talent. Watching it prompted me to also watch a short YouTube clip called, Howz it Mizzade with Snoop Dogg.

“That’s a hotdog? Oh, hell no.”

During a soccer match, I’m more inclined to retreat into my cocoon-sized Paris apartment to avoid the noisy drunken revelry. I say, let them go straight to the penalty kick and get it over with. All that running around exhausts me.

But right now in France, Les Bleus reign supreme. They are headed to the finals against Croatia who they last fought during the Napoleonic wars. You’ll find Blue White & Red cosmetics painted under the eyes of even the most-burly French man during a match. Yes, I said cosmetics, burly and French man in the same sentence.

Not only is watching a match beyond stultifying to me, I imagine it’s like being in a mini-coma, but I don’t know what is being said by the commentators, which makes it worse. Although after reading an article online in The Sun, a reputable U.K. journalistic institution, I learned through their dogged hardboiled investigative tactics that it’s okay for the French players to have sex during the World Cup. So now I’m more inclined to watch a match. Then I realized, not literally on the field. Back at the hotel, Adil Rami does it with cougar Pamela Anderson. Shame on you Pam, old enough to be his mom. Apparently, the players are asked to tone it down and shy away from the more dangerous acrobatic styles and stick with the tried and true safety of missionary style. The Minister of Russian Family Values is against sex, at least against Russian women having sex with non-whites. Hmmmmm?

I don’t think the statistics have been uncorked on how much wine has been consumed during the World Cup thus far. But I know the recycling bin is full outside my window by the cascade of broken glass into the city truck at 4 a.m. And more proof from headlines from the Daily Star, another journalistic giant: “England fans can go booze-crazy after alcohol ban at World Cup AXED and pints only 72p.” I don’t know what 72p is, but it sounds like a good deal. After that good deal runs out, they can always get some of that homemade wood grain alcohol that makes you go blind that the Russians are so famous for. The big game is Sunday and I’m going to strap on my French pride, don some mascara and catch the match. They may make a fan out of me yet.

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