I knew the US Soccer Team was doomed yesterday before the match even started. The reason I knew we were doomed is the fine broadcasters at ABC showed that a certain national joke, one William Jefferson Blythe, was at the match "cheering" on the team. And when I saw that Slick Willie was on hand, I turned to the kid next to me at the bar and said "I guarantee we lose this game. That loser will bring nothing but heartache and pain to the US squad." And I was right once again, as the US was terrible in central defense, and finishing upfront. Hell, even the goaltending was weak. Thanks to you Bill.
The kid I mentioned above, the one I was sitting next to during the match, is a flaming liberal Chapel Hill-type (I mentioned the kid on this blog back during college hoops season). Anyway, the kid told me that William Jefferson Blythe had visited with the US Soccer team after the big victory last Wednesday against Algeria. Evidently our disgraced ex-leader passed out cigars in the locker room to the celebrating US team. And I had a question for the liberal Chapel Hill kid at that point, as I asked: "Were the cigars that he passed out marinated in Monica Lewinsky's vagina ?"
That same kid I mentioned above (the Chapel Hill liberal) at one point responded to my mocking of Barack Hussein Obama during the match (I don't recall why I was mocking him exactly, as I mock old Barry so consistently I can't recall what I might be saying one minute to the next). Anyway, the kid said this, and in all seriousness this is telling, "Things are no worse now than when Bush was in charge." And I asked very politely if that was the big campaign promise that old Barry had used to sweep into power, you know - Vote for me and things won't be worse. They won't be better. But they won't be worse. As I recall, old Barry was promising change and hope. Or what some of us call chope. And now, just 17 months after his coronation, old Barry has been reduced to having some of his most ardent supporters defend him by saying he's no worse than old W.
Speaking of awesome liberals, the inventor of the Internet, and William Jefferson Blythe's 2nd in command, one Albert Arnold Gore, is back in the news. It seems that the inventor of the Internet was in Portland and hired a redheaded "masseuse" to give him a "rub down." Only this "masseuse" turned out to be an actual masseuse and refused to give Albert Arnold Gore the relief he was so desperately in need of. In other words, she wasn't down with happy endings. And Albert Arnold Gore was not happy with that. I'm sure all the other fake "masseuses" Albert Arnold Gore has hired over the years were more than happy to provide whatever deviant sexual practice required by our "global warming" guru. Now, this real masseuse is gonna step out and talk on the record (for money, no doubt) about something I've suspected for at least 18 years and maybe longer, that Albert Arnold Gore is a straight up sex freak and that Tipper could never keep up with his freaky needs. Tipper probably tried though. She gave it a shot. But I bet Albert Arnold Gore is so deviant and requires so much degrading attention that Tipper gave up some time ago and let him run to his hookers for his needs. Now, everything is out in the open and Albert Arnold Gore joins William Jefferson Blythe, The Tiger, & Marv Albert as national jokes. It's an interesting club to be a member of. I bet they hold meetings at a Hooters in the panhandle of Florida...
I keep seeing ads for this movie called Grown Ups. And it looks like it might be the stupidest piece of unwatchable garbage since the last David Spade movie. Oh, and that new Cruise movie, no thanks. I'll wait for more Les Grossman myself.
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