Not too much to report this week so far, except to say this weekend would best be described in as few as words as possible so as not to be too severely incriminating. So here goes:
I watched the World Cup's first game - Someone vs. Someone Else, I gather - and while I don't particularly care for the game of soccer (I mean "football"), I get a kick out of the experience of the whole thing. Football is really one of the few things that can unite the world. Take away all the angst, all the separation, and all the realities that plague modern human relations, and you have grown men kicking a ball on a big green field while other men - mostly drunk and ravenous - shout at them from the stands (and in the bars, which was my particular location). The main moral of the story of my weekend would go something like this - if you're going to partake in such event - and their related activites - with people from the United Kingdom and Ireland, you better damn well bring your "A" game. I've always had a great fondness for the UK, and I'm keen on my Irish and English roots. That's certainly the case now more than ever.
Though my liver would heartily disagree.
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