Recently I made two bets involving my beloved Buckeyes against fellow Big Ten opponents.Normally I do not like to gamble, but as the movie “The Hangover” taught me “It’s not gambling if you know you’re going to win.”This got me thinking however, besides the Buckeye’s giving up less than 12 points at home, what else in life can be considered a “sure thing?”
Initially, the presumption is that when something is a “sure thing” it is inherently good; however, the more I thought about it, the more I realized something being a “sure thing” is not necessarily positive.So, my central thesis, the topic that this post will revolve around, is that being a “sure thing” is negative in almost every situation.
Gambling:
I have already mentioned gambling when talking about a “sure thing” and no surprise, when you think of a “sure thing” in gambling your eyes light up and you see free money.But after 4 years of Economics in college, one of the only things that stuck with me is the idea that there is no such thing as a free meal; a.k.a nothing is ever free.I’d be willing to gamble (haha see the irony there) that more often than not a “sure thing” in gambling leads to disastrous results.A sure thing in gambling is usually only the result of illegal activity (think Black Sox).I’d be willing to bet (more irony!) that more often than not the “sure things” backfire and people either lose tons of money or end up in prison.
Women:
Once again, on the surface this seems like an inherently positive trait.A girl that is a sure thing means you don’t have to take her on dates buy her food or drinks (well maybe the occasional drink or 8), but besides that you are home free, literally.Once again, the longer I thought about this the more negative qualities I began to notice. If I were to poll 10 guys and ask if they thought it was a good thing to find out that hot chick at the bar was a “sure thing,” all ten and perhaps even some that just overheard the question would answer assertively “hell yes.” However guys out there, I want you to think really hard about that… is a girl that is a “sure thing” always a “good thing?”
Now I have not had sex ed since about the 7th grade but I do seem to remember learning something about STD’s, and I don’t know about you but I would prefer that it didn’t hurt when I pissed, and I would prefer not to have red painful shit all over my wang; and STD’s may not be the worst part! Some STD’s you can get rid of, but the government frowns upon it when you try to get rid of a child.(Granted there are legal options around this, but I will not get into that here…)Think about having a child.I don’t know where all of you are in your lives, but that would be pretty rough for me right now.So before you go hook up with that “hottie” at the bar think about this, is one night of fun worth risking my penis? I think you would answer “probably not.”
Death & Taxes:
Benjamin Franklin once said “nothing is certain but death and taxes.”Those are two “sure things” in life you cannot escape.Both of those things sound fucking horrible to me.I kind of like my life right now and would prefer for it to continue, and I kind of like my money right now and would prefer to keep it.This topic is pretty self-explanatory so I see no need to continue.
So, after reading this post, I think I successfully defended my thesis.Sure things in life often seem awesome, but really, they kind of suck.Isn’t life a little more enjoyable not knowing what is going to happen next?Apparently this post was me being a philosopher, perhaps I have matured as I have aged.I kind of feel gross about the lack of inappropriate subject matter in this post and the minimal swearing.So here’s hoping my next post will be filled with “fucks” and jokes about boobies and dicks and all sorts of funny, immature stuff.
P.S I want to thank everyone who has come up to me and complimented me on the blog, I think it is crazy people actually read this let alone enjoy it!
P.S.S I have to thank one of my followers Alexis Lindem for proof-reading this. I have brutal grammar so I need someone to help. Now that you know following the blog has benefits, feel free to do it too!
Since finals have ended, my life has been filled with multiple trips to the airport.My normal pre-flight routine is pretty standard I believe.Approximately 30 minutes before I am supposed to leave my house I begin to frantically throw my shit into a bag, meanwhile one of my parents will always make the comment “I told you to do this earlier.”Eventually, I am able to finish packing at which point I am overcome with pride/ “I-Told-You-So-Ness” and smirk, perhaps even singing the John Denver song “Leaving on an Airplane.”However, this sense of pride is fleeting because I remember that flying involves sitting in tight quarters usually next to complete strangers; often times leading to awkward encounters…
On my flight from FL to IL, I sat next to a mother and her son, both of whom were complete strangers. (If you were wondering where my mom and sister were for this flight, good question. My mom and sister were sitting next to each other at the front part of the plane while I was sitting in the back alone; I believe this is empirical proof that my parents like my sister more than me.)And while this mother’s external appearance may have been that of a sweet older woman, inside she was a different person.Upon sitting down, she glared at me; a glare that filled with so much contempt that I was forced to conclude that I must have wronged her in some previous life. My brief attempts at conversing with this woman only reconfirmed my suspicion.During the flight, this woman decided to claim her territory by firmly planting her arm on the armrest we shared and never moving it. Accepting that I had lost the armrest battle, slightly demoralized, I decided to pull out my laptop.I proceeded to put in my headphones, throw on some music and write a rough draft of my previous blog post.However, apparently I could do nothing right in the eyes of this woman because the mere fact that I pulled out my laptop seemed to offend her greatly.
Ignoring the clear annoyance of this woman, I put in my headphones and began typing.Within 30 seconds of me starting she began to subtly (at first) glance at my screen.These glances became more obvious with each progressing one until she was blatantly staring, starting a series of events.She would read what I was writing, turn to her son to discuss, look back and repeat.Upon noticing this I did not know how to react; at first I was appreciative because my readership went up approximately 20% with this women reading my post.However, the more I thought about it the more I was offended; this woman was blatantly invading my privacy.I considered letting her know I did not appreciate it, either through politely telling her, or what I ended up doing. I concluded the mature thing to do in this situation was to draw boobs on the screen until she became uncomfortable, so that is what I did.Ex. (.)(.)Had this not worked I likely would have drawn even more inappropriate things.As I sat there contemplating how to best draw other inappropriate body parts via my keyboard, I realized the flight was almost over so I was not going to need to resort to that. FYI in the future I figured out a few other good drawings I believe.
Since my flight to Illinois was filled with awkward exchanges and an armrest feud, I was less than thrilled to be hopping on another plane to fly to Maryland; but then everything changed…
I was beginning my pre-flight ritual at the last moment because I decided to go out drinking rather than pack the night before, when my mom came into my room.But rather than saying “I told you to do this earlier” she gave me some glorious news, telling me I had been upgraded to first class.Upon receiving this news I yelled, ran upstairs and did a celebratory dance.Although I had in no way contributed to this complementary upgrade, I definitely felt a sense of accomplishment when I saw my seat listed on the boarding pass as 6F (aka 1st class).
Before learning of the upgrade, I had already discussed with my friends and family how people at the airport were likely going to think that I was some successful international businessman because I was going to be carrying a suit bag.But adding the fact that I was riding first class to the fact that I was bringing a suit and there was no doubt in my mind that I was the classiest person in that whole damn airport.As I anxiously waited to board the plane, my imagination ran wild as to what first class was going to be like.When the time finally arrived, I entered the plane and was definitely not disappointed.Rather than turning right to go to economy class, I got on the plane and turned left into the haven of first class.It was like being in an entirely different place, like walking into a closet and entering Narnia, first class was my Narnia.
While the real Narnia (feels weird saying “real fictional place” but you understand) is filled with talking lions, first class was just as magical for me.Not only did I have tons of legroom, but also my own armrest; I would not be losing any armrest battles this day.As I sat down a flight attendant asked if I wanted a drink. Assuming she was referencing the shitty airplane drinks I declined.It was not until I heard others ordering that I realized my mistake, you get free alcohol in first class!I decided I needed to remedy the situation as quickly as possible so the next opportunity I proceeded to order my first, but not last beer.
As the flight proceeded TV’s dropped down from the ceiling and I was able to watch some of my favorite shows.I think it is also important to note that the gentleman sitting next to me was typing on his computer, but not once did I look!Eventually, the plane landed and it was time to leave my Narnia.I can honestly say I have never been more reluctant to leave a plane than I was at that point, because I knew that might have been the first and only time I will travel first class.Essentially it was the peak of my traveling career, perhaps even of my life.
Looking back now, I am beginning to think riding in first class was a bad idea.You know the saying “you don’t know what you had until it is gone,” well it definitely applies to riding first class.When I am forced to hop on a plane and ride home, the thought of not having free booze depresses me, and the thought of being demoralized by losing another armrest battle is almost too much for me to take.So for all my readers out there, know that first class is a magical place.But also know that I have called “Dibs” on that magical place so stay the fuck away.
Only through the title and already I have caught myself lying.While it is definitely true that I am a super guy, I am also very superstitious.Growing up playing baseball it was almost inevitable; baseball is a sport where you fail 70% of the time, so when something actually goes right you do everything in your power to keep the luck, including some crazy antics (Think Nomar Garciaparra between pitches). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s85dyQR9lKM
Over the years my superstition has grown, I have begun blaming the “baseball gods” for my failures as well as the inevitable failure of the Cubs each year.Slowly, my on the field antics have begun to slip into my off the field life.Things such as night before rituals, pre-game meals and post game snacks became planned and regimented during my collegiate career.Sadly, my days of playing baseball are behind me and my attention has shifted from sports to school; and so too have my superstitions.
In college, I would routinely watch the same movie, Remember the Titans, the night before a big game; that has shifted and I now watch it the night before an exam.My pre-game meal of a banana (still use the Gwen Stefani song to spell that word) has now shifted to a pre-exam meal.And finally, a new one for me this year was the growing of a good luck “finals beard.”
Although this undertaking initially began because myself and the other members of my study group were too lazy to shave one day, the idea caught hold.Likening myself to NHL players and their “playoff beards” I thought the idea of a finals beard would not only help me get better grades, but also make me look amazing; I was picturing a younger versions of the Dos Equis man.However, there were two serious flaws in my thinking; first, no one in my study group had the ability to grow a great beard.One was acceptable, but the rest of us ended up looking “hoboish” (if that is a real word?).Secondly, there is apparently no correlation between good luck and facial hair.
So, despite the seemingly obvious advantages of a beard turning out to be false, I discovered that there were a few unintended advantages of the beard.First, the beard served as a pseudo-calendar for my study group and me.During finals time, law students seemingly forget how to use a calendar.On more than one occasion I asked my roommate why he was not in class only to learn it was a weekend.So with days and weeks running together, the beard was a good way to keep track of how long finals had been going on.
The second, unintended, advantage of growing a beard was being able to shave it off but leave a GREAT mustache.Despite the fact that a girl, who happens to be a friend of mine, told me I “Looked like (an) ass” I am not inclined to believe that assessment of my appearance.That girl has a history of critiquing me in mean, and obviously false ways (perhaps a topic for another post), plus, I received numerous (4) compliments about my mustache including one from a professor.
Beard and all, I managed to survive the grueling two and a half weeks of tests and have come out of the experience having gained some important knowledge that all future law students should heed. First, get a good night sleep and don’t plan on leaving school before eleven. Second, when the Dekalb Taco Bells says open to midnight or later, they lie.Third, arguments between people are often the best way to learn.Fourth, no matter what you do, the baseball gods will continue to curse the Cubs. Fifth, you don’t need a law degree to know that Sam Hurd is screwed. http://espn.go.com/chicago/nfl/story/_/id/7355706/chicago-bears-sam-hurd-arrested-drug-charges. Finally, when all else fails grow a beard; it may not help you with your tests but it will provide an adequate topic for a blog post after.
So to all of my readers out there, have a merry Christmas/Hanukkah/Festivus/etc.
Andrew
P.S.- An honest assessment of my mustache would lead one to determine I looked like a pedophile and hipster mixed together.
So I was asked the other day by a child about 10 years old what grade I was in. This question sort of caught be by surprise because I had not thought of school in terms of grades in a really long time. After a (longer than I would like to admit) pause, in where I counted on my fingers, I realized I am in "17th grade." That realization was shocking to me, and likely shocking to any readers who have known me for more than 5 minutes.
To say I am not studious is a vast understatement, and the fact that I have been in school as long as I have is amazing to everyone in my family, including myself. If I were forced to rank my favorite things in life, going to school would be about #587, between “going to the orthodontist” and “watching the WNBA.” However, here I am, at the age of 23 starting anew in school. So this got me thinking... How did this happen!? In this post I will attempt to get into my mindset throughout my time in school and see exactly how this "slacker" who "writes like a 3rd grader" (actual ways my high school teachers described me) has managed to stay in school so long. This post, and likely my hatred of school started in the first grade...
1st Grade: Got in trouble for throwing a rock at a girl for tattling on me. I learned at an early age "snitches get stitches" but also that "throwing rocks gets you in trouble."
- Career goal: Professional athlete at day, surgeon at night.
- Why didn’t that work out? Oh yeah, that is freaking impossible, plus I possess the skills to do neither of those things.
2nd Grade: I was a master at silent-speed-ball, and won a spelling bee; so yeah I pretty much peaked in life.
-Career Goal: Attempt to make a living sitting silently and throwing a ball.
-Why didn’t that work out? I cannot sit silently to save my life, and honestly I’m average at throwing a ball today.
3rd Grade:Received an award for a short story I wrote; as my senior English teacher would later tell me, I had reached my peak in this arena too.
- Career Goal: Professional basketball player
- Why didn’t that work out? In 3rd grade I was tall and good at basketball, in 17th grade I am short, slow and bad at basketball.
4th Grade: “How the hell is a letter also supposed to be a number!?”
- Career Goal: Professional basketball/baseball play. Essentially I saw myself as a Michael Jordan/Mark Grace Hybrid.
Why didn’t that work out? I’m unprepared to give up my dream of playing in the MLB, I’m convinced somewhere out there an MLB team is looking for a soft-throwing righty. I mean really, can I be that much worse than half of the Cubs rotation!?
5th Grade:Had my first kiss. If my life was a movie, most people would probably turn it off after here; not much else happens in my life.
- Career Goal: Something that involved kissing girls; gigolo perhaps?
-Why didn’t that work out? Not sure, still a viable option if Law School fails.
6th Grade: Essentially was a gigolo (w/o any of the fun parts). “Dated” approximately 8 different girls. Also important to note, the first of 11 yrs of school I would complete with my friend Amy, who sadly abandoned me for 17th grade.
Career Goal: Sticking with male gigolo, I was really into girls.
Why didn’t that work out: Solid #2 option in life…
7th Grade: Learned that the Oboe was not an instrument I should be playing. (It was horrible, I apologize to anyone who heard me play that awful thing).
Career Goal: Something unrelated to music, likely NBA player.
Why didn’t that work out? After 7th grade I only had 1 growth spurt left, and sadly basketball IQ is not enough, especially when you are lazy on defense like I was.
8th Grade: Geometry class makes me realize that math is way over my head. I had just begun to understand how letters could be numbers.
Career Goal: Professional baseball player. I rode the coat-tails of some very good ball-players that summer so I figured I could continue the trend.
Why didn’t that work out? I’m really banking on my former teammate Cody, who is currently in AAA to let me know when he makes it to the show; as a said, soft-throwing righty!
9th Grade: My first year of high school… I think I’m pretty cool. I play varsity baseball and gel my hair in all sorts of crazy ways. Looking back now, I looked like an ass.
Career Goal: Professional baseball player
Why didn’t that work out? After a less than stellar showing my freshman year, where I struggled to bat above .200, MLB dreams began to fade.
10th Grade: The first entire year I am single since the 4th grade. I begin to doubt my potential career as a male gigolo. Also my final season of high school basketball, the NBA dream is quickly fading too.
Career Goal: “Maybe I can coach in the NBA!?”
Why didn’t that work out? While the NBA was always a dream, it was forced to stay that way after my sophomore year. I don’t want to start rumors, but I find it suspicious everyone was suddenly bigger and better than I was. Cough:steroids:cough.
11th Grade: Having run out of viable dating options in my grade, I am forced to date down and up with disastrous results; mainly a prom night that ended with me watching Pirates of the Caribbean (alone) while my date spent it with my friend.
Career Goal: After a solid season, MLB remains a glimmer in my eye.
Why didn’t that work out? 84 miles an hour!!! How am I not on every draft-board!?
*Note: Up until this point, none of my career goals (outside of being a surgeon) involved lots of schooling. And I abandoned the whole surgeon thing pretty quickly when I heard it was a lot of work.
12th Grade: Just when I think I have figured out that letters can be numbers, my second year of calculus rolls around. Suddenly there are weird symbols everywhere in the textbook and I just sit in the back of the class. Luckily, AP Bio is way easier and I am able to hone my Pokemon skills in class.
Career Goal: My best baseball season ever. I batted .430 and ALMOST hit a home-run. It is a given some MLB team will draft me and I will be done with school forever.
Why didn’t that work out? When the MLB draft passes me by, I have no other useful skills, I decide to give this whole college thing a try. It’s only 4 years, plus I hear there is lots of beer and girls at college.
13th Grade:There is beer and women aplenty at college (note: quantity not quality). However, Andrew (and Goldfinger) is a one woman guy, so with a girl back home, I partake in extra beer to make up for the lack of women.
Career Goal: Some profession where I drink beer all day….Professional bowler??
Why didn’t that work out? I can’t bowl, have no desire to bowl, and realize perhaps I was not spending thousands of dollars a year to bowl. Plus I really only was interested for the beer, and I find out some people out there take bowling seriously (weird right?)
14th Grade:I encounter a class called “econometrics” where they use words like “heteroskedasticity” and realize that my economics major is maybe not something I want to use in life. (What does that word even mean!? Spell-check doesn’t recognize it, and I majored in Econ and still have no idea. Sounds like a disease in the world of Harry Potter if you ask me).
Career Goal: No sports, and apparently I suck at my major… kind of hoping a have a long lost relative who gives me all their money when they die.
Why didn’t that work out? To date none of my relatives have left me with large sums of money. Plus, since apparently I can’t do economics, I would likely squander that money anyways.
15th Grade:I finish up my major and have the necessary credits to graduate, it is at this point, for the first time in my life, I choose to remain in school. I realize that a free year in college can be filled with friends and fun.
Career Goals: “Hell, I don’t know.”
Why didn’t that work out? If I had to guess, I would say because I was unmotivated and my goal really lacked a solid direction.
16th Grade: I take a class about Harry Potter and another about wine; and am disappointed when they are actually hard work. This is the year “single Andrew” aka Goldfinger makes his first appearance on campus. Unfortunately, that middle school charm wore off and I finally give up the possible career as a male gigolo.
Career Goal: With gigolo out of the question, and after being over for the MLB draft again, I am out of ideas.
Why didn’t that work out? I probably should not have put all my eggs in the “professional athlete” basket, especially considering my team went 3-32. With no other options I decide to “take my talents to Dekalb” (ala LeBron James) and enter law school.
17th Grade:So here I am today, sitting at the table writing this blog (when I should be studying for finals) and wondering how I ended up here. My sister, who is the biggest nerd I know (I say that in a loving way) graduated from college and got a job. Instead of doing that, Im sitting in a shitty apartment reflecting on my life and writing a blog post that I will be lucky if 20 people read.
My career goals are undefined at this point. Given the fact all my fellow 1L’s are studying and I am doing this, perhaps I will need to find a profession that does not require a law degree, but that is another discussion for another day. So, as this post closes I hope you have enjoyed this journey down memory lane with me, and once again I encourage all of you to follow the blog and read earlier posts.
So until next time,
Andrew
This really has nothing to do with my post, it is just a cool video...
What up followers, Andrew here (aka Goldfinger). Since I have transitioned into a new part of my life, I decided to have the blog, and more specifically my name, indicate this change. For any new readers out there, I would strongly recommend that you go back and read all of the previous posts, some of them are pure gold (while others are just drunken nonsense).
The purpose of this blog was to talk about the Quarter-Life Crisis myself and my roommates were going through; however, those bastards seem to know what they are doing with their lives so now I'm out here in no-mans-land. Since my last post, I have started Law School, and as you might expect that sort of commitment dominates your life, so for the foreseeable future, my posts (and thus this blog) will revolve around my life as a 1L (1st year law student).
I would say the life of a 1L male student revolves around pretty much the same things as it did in undergrad: School, Sports and Women. Undergrad was all about minimizing school so that you had more time for sports and women; and while I would love to categorize law school in that same way, I sadly cannot. I wish I could give you percentages for how much time I spend doing each of those things, and in fact the first draft of this post had percentages, however looking at that small number under the "women" category depressed me so I had to get rid of it. In life, like in this blog, I have transitioned from Goldfinger to Andrew, and that transition comes with some scary consequences.
First, Goldfinger was known as being slightly lazy, but man could that guy please a lady. (Note: Goldfinger was also known to lie occasionally). Andrew on the other hand has started to spend an increasing amount of time on school with the consequences manifesting themselves in my success, or lack thereof, with the ladies. Which leads me to the first thing I have learned in Law School; there is a direct correlation between time spent in the library and failure with the ladies (which is how Billy Bunzel managed to remain single until the day of graduation).
Continuing with my discussion of ladies, the followers are this blog are probably wondering what ever happened between me and Emma Watson. Sadly, that did not work out, she was in a relationship, then played hard to get, and as you know, blew me off for my formal. Also, I was never able to locate my long lost love from Rome, so right now I'm 0 for 2. However there is still hope, with this transition from Goldfinger to Andrew, I feel as though I have matured and thus need an older woman. So I have now focused my attention in locking down Erin Andrews. I know Mark Titus was able to meet her because of his “Club Trill” blog so I have now decided to use this blog as a spring-board to meet her. Cause honestly, once I meet her, I’ll turn on my charm and we will likely get married. So, I call on you readers of this blog, tell at least 100 people apiece, and have them tell 100 more people. If we do that enough times the blog may draw enough attention to get me a date, or at least an interview with my dream woman.
Moving on to sports, that aspect of my life has not changed in Law School. Saturdays are still dedicated to college football and Sundays are obviously still for the NFL. The only difference now is that I am sometimes forced to do work before or after the games. The biggest difference is no longer being part of a collegiate team. What that means is I no longer have motivation to work out and have thus gotten slightly out of shape. Luckily, law school provides less opportunities to drink so the effects are not as severe as they might have been.
Finally, moving on to my discussion of school. As I have previously alluded to, I now spend a large amount of my day in the library. Classes are strenuous and that means studying early and often. If Goldfinger were to see my study habits he would be appalled, but as I have said, I have matured. Undermining that statement, when discussions in class are about “duty” or “seamen” I still have to fight the urge to laugh. However, previously I (Goldfinger) would not have fought this urge and just flat out laughed. Professor’s are much more scary at this point in my college career. Apparently I am supposed to listen and take notes in class (was I supposed to do that in undergrad!?)
Sorry for the length of this post, law school has increased my vocabulary so I felt the need to use some of those words. To that point, if anyone ever tells you Latin is a dead language you should say to them “Fuck off” because I am forced to use that “dead language” daily. Terms such as “mens rea” and “res ipsa loquitor” are surprisingly not Vulcan, but in fact that dead language of Latin.
Since this is a special post, and I outline 3 aspects of my life, I have decided to post a video for each aspect. First, in honor of the best rivalry in sports (which will take place next Saturday) is a video that sums up my thoughts on Michigan.
Second, is a scene from the movie “The Paper Chase” that accurately describes a law school class. And believe it or not, the “hairy hand case” is a real thing and I have read it.
The final video is just Gatorade being poured on my soulmate Erin Andrews. Not too exciting but I love her
So I would like to apologize to the followers for the time between posts and tell any new readers to keep on coming back. (and dont forget 100 people each!)
Wow, you take a few months off and all of a sudden you forget the email and passowrd associated with your accounts, what a bitch. However, after much effort (by yours truely) I figured it out and am here to make a post I assume no one will ever read...
Since you have last heard from me, my fellow bloggers and I all graduated from the prestigious (college taught me big words like that) Lawrence University and have moved on with our lives. I will briefly update you on the happenings of my fellow bloggers before talking about myself.
Sloth is currently living the dream. He is living with his girlfriend and her parents who are essentially his servants. They wait on him hand and foot, however the dream is soon going to turn into a nightmare. Beginning in August, his shorty moves out so it is either find a place to live or (creepily) continue living with her family alone. Besides that he lives a normal life, going around to parks, killing weeds and whatnot; essentially, putting that hard earned degree to use.
Diablo is currently living at home and working at a golf course, however his future looks bright. Next year he will be student teaching, turning the children in America into goon's like him. All I know is, if you live within a 500 mile radius, pack up and move to Appleton so Diablo can turn your children into studs. Speaking of studs...
Ling Ling is clearly the studly one of the bunch. Right out of school he got himself a high paying job basically bossing everyone aorund. Sounds like a great gig, and Ling Ling is definitely a natural born leader.
All that is left now is my life...recently I have been putting my college education to good use, removing staples from papers, taping things together and using Urbandictionry as a primary resource as part of my job, so clearly I am, as Charlie Sheen would say, "winning." But rather than discuss my mundane exsistance I wanted to comment on an event that I never thought would happen to me. SO lets get Doc Brown, hop in the DeLorean, and go back in time...
Four years ago, when I learned I would be living with a soccer player at college, my initial thought was "wow this kid is a pussy." And while that part did turn out to be true, I also learned that soccer players are pretty sweet people and the sport could be worse. Also at this time four years ago I believed women's sports were essentially an unfunny joke; which makes the recent events so crazy.
Recently I have found myself caring about womens soccer (double take) WOMENS SOCCER!? I know right? The obvious appeal to womens soccer is the off chance one of the players will take off their shirt ala. Brandi Chastain, however I find myself watching it for more reasons than possible nudity now. After an amazing comeback against Brazil and their stud Marta (who im not convinced is not at least part male) I find myself cheering for the USA and generally interested in their success. SO I guess the moral of the story is this "never write something off until you give it a chance."
With that little tidbit of knowledge I'm off, my lunch hour technically ended 15 min ago so I better get to work. Sorry about the length between posts and sorry about the quailty of recent posts, I think my mind is deteriorating already now that I am a college grad.
