soccer Germany can’t seem to beat us in a world war, but they finally avenged our repeated conquest and occupation of their fatherland by handing the U.S. national soccer team a stinging loss at the World Cup a few days ago, and I for one was ecstatic.

I figured that once we were eliminated from this stupid tournament soccer would once again disappear from my television and only appear on those weird Latino channels I inexplicably ordered when I was drunk.

Unfortunately, I was wrong. It seems that the World Cup operates along the same lines as the Special Olympics, and a win, loss and tie are good enough to get you to the quarter finals.

I don’t care what pony-tailed hipsters say, goddamn soccer sucks, and no amount of hoopla or feigned national enthusiasm is going to change that. If I wanted to suffer through an hour of pointless ball movement with no pay-off I’d go have sex with my wife.

Some idiots have knocked soccer because they equate it with socialism. The basic argument is that if you can play it in a refugee camp with no equipment, it must be un-American. It is un-American, but that’s because it’s boring and it blows.

I have the attention span of a goddamned goldfish and every thirty seconds my brain resets. Without constant stimulation I wander off to look at porn.

There is no stimulation in soccer. From what I can tell about two dozen landscapers run around a giant yard for 90 minutes for no discernable purpose.

And do you know who won the last four World Cups? It was Italy, Spain, Brazil and France. That’s like the kids’ table of international competition, and those countries shouldn’t win anything other than a bikini contest.

Hopefully those insufferable Belgians will take a break from making undrinkable beers long enough to take care of business Tuesday.

U.S.A.  U.S.A.  U.S.A.  U.S.A.

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