I’ve been a bit ill lately. Nothing quite out of the ordinary, were it not that I%m a very healthy bloke. I’m on a strict germ-killing diet: two packs a day and half a bottle of scotch.
No germ can touch me! Furthermore I’m a great sportsfan, although I do think sports is something you watch on television, not something to put in practise. Nothing thrills me more than seeing some soccer game on the telly after they have advertised my favourite movie for the last two weeks on that same channel at that particular time. So I’m sitting there, ready to watch %Requiem for a Dream%, when all I see is eleven men in red shirts playing eleven men in yellow shirts on a big green field and one average sized white ball kicked from one side to the other. The most fun I have is right after the game. The yellows have lost, and their supporters smack in the heads of the supporters of the reds. Throwing beer bottles and everything that%s lying around loose on the streets. I swear to god I saw someone throwing a homeless guy through the air. ‘Yes, three reds down!’ Then those nice guys in blue show up, you now, those that live in their cars right behind a tree with their camera, taking snapshots of your car. For once, they%re not in their car, but riding horses, and their sport is to smack in the heads of both the yellows and the reds. I’m telling you: they really know what soccer is all about. All this excitement makes my fever sky rocket, so I change the channel to the home shopping channel coughing my lungs up and filling the air with flu germs. I light up another in my mind harmless cigarette and think to myself: I love the way my mind works, and I really want that blender.
I’ve been a bit ill lately. Nothing quite out of the ordinary, were it not that I%m a very healthy bloke. I’m on a strict germ-killing diet: two packs a day and half a bottle of scotch. No germ can touch me! Furthermore I’m a great sportsfan, although I do think sports is something you watch on television, not something to put in practise. Nothing thrills me more than seeing some soccer game on the telly after they have advertised my favourite movie for the last two weeks on that same channel at that particular time. So I’m sitting there, ready to watch %Requiem for a Dream%, when all I see is eleven men in red shirts playing eleven men in yellow shirts on a big green field and one average sized white ball kicked from one side to the other. The most fun I have is right after the game. The yellows have lost, and their supporters smack in the heads of the supporters of the reds. Throwing beer bottles and everything that%s lying around loose on the streets. I swear to god I saw someone throwing a homeless guy through the air. ‘Yes, three reds down!’ Then those nice guys in blue show up, you now, those that live in their cars right behind a tree with their camera, taking snapshots of your car. For once, they%re not in their car, but riding horses, and their sport is to smack in the heads of both the yellows and the reds. I’m telling you: they really know what soccer is all about. All this excitement makes my fever sky rocket, so I change the channel to the home shopping channel coughing my lungs up and filling the air with flu germs. I light up another in my mind harmless cigarette and think to myself: I love the way my mind works, and I really want that blender.
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