Friday, June 23, 2006
Breaking News!
Americans really aren't very good at soccer.
Roberto Schmidt/Agence France-Presse - Getty Images
Which is totally weird, since there are like nine gazillion soccer fields around here, always filled to the brim with these kids wearing shiny shorts and sporting little Adidas shoes and nudging one another impatiently, and mothers! oh, the mothers! with their hundred thousand dollar SUV's and sense of European entitlement and snobbery...and the rest of the world is so poor it's STUCK with soccer because all soccer is is a ball, a field, and forty-five minutes of running about, dodging traffic and kicking the crap out of the other guy in the blue shirt.
And you wonder why those third world places seem to always rise from the ashes when it comes to this kind of thing.
We were Ghana-vised. Good for Ghana.
And My Following Story:
38 hours--smoke free.
The cat is still alive, the house is still in one piece, and my mouth waters for the taste of ash, tar, and nicotine. I hope to not fail. Oh, I hope, I hope, I hope.
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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