Footie Time
Holy shit.
So I fucked off of work (again) today to catch the Germany/Argentina game in the World Cup Quarter Finals.
Okay yes. I enjoy soccer. The game itself is great…watching cool European strategy coming up again and again against South American finesse. I like the howling and cheering of inebriated fans. I like the howling and cheering of the players themselves, upon posession called after a foul. But let’s just be totally honest for a second.
Footballers, soccer players, whatever you want to call them…they’re fucking hot. There’s a trend in this year’s WM toward long hair. On the Argentinians, this manifested itself in several instances of shoulder-length locks, making parts of the team look like greased-up Assyrian gods.
And I’m sure I don’t even have to bring up the subject of their rippling man-shanks. Whoo, mother.
Testosterine deliciousness abounds in the World Cup. I would recommend that all my female and homosexual male readers turn off the Golden Girls rerun immediately, and locate the nearest source of ESPN 2.
The German back bench is comprised of what look like extras from a Leni Riefensthal film. That’s one tight, Aryan buffet. The starting team however leaves a bit to be desired (in terms of unfathomable hotness), notable standouts being Michael Balack, and the visual shower-head that is Jens Lehmann.
I’ve included some photos of Jens Lehmann, so that the non-footballed world can finally see what female Arsenal fans dream about at night. I was disturbed by one source’s comparison of Lehmann with David Hasselhoff…
Those that know the Kittensnake might be familiar with her gourmetante appreciation of man-man action. Well get this, I didn’t know this because I’d never seen it…but after normal play, if there is to be overtime, the players who’ll continue run to the side of the field and sprawl out on their backs. In the few minutes before the game resumes, a small army of winsome young trainers attends each prostrate player, slapping his massive calves to and fro, kneading his glistning shanks and buttocks, massaging his back, spraying him down, stretching his limbs for him. It happens again before the second quarter hour of overtime…
The cameras capture all of this in close-up. Forget the Cazzo, boys. This…
…is the shit.
Oh yeah. And the Germans are pretty excited to have won.
