Confessional

I had no idea what the World Cup was until about 15 hours ago when I finally broke down and asked Lynne what it was.

I thought it was a sailing competition but apparently it’s tennis. Wait. Soccer. It’s soccer. Is it?

Or…tennis…

Okay, it’s either soccer or tennis but not sailing. That’s the American Cup. I know that.

Why do they have to call them all “cups?” Can’t they call just one of them a “trophy” so the rest of us have a prayer at keeping them all straight?

Some of them are “bowls,” right? Like the Rose Bowl. I like that one because they have that nice parade on tv. That’s a float competition, right? They want to see who can hot glue gun the most sunflower seeds onto a float and make it look like stuff.

I think I will write a letter to the cup people to tell them my suggestion. I’m sure they didn’t realize how confusing it is.

I’d like to say that I don’t know what all these cup things are because I’m very interested in other, more smartly things like space elevators and string theory and, of course, superstring theory, but it’s not.

I just don’t give a shit.

So yeah.

GO CELTICS! Well done, or whatever.

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posted by Crissy in About nothing, really and have Comments (14)