Pulling Up One's Soccs in the Game of Football

Setting sprigged foot upon the gloried turf, hark thee Socceroos, heart be fullish and unfeared. Menfolk in white ventured from the land of Deutch, and expertly sprigged moreso. Sadness well be but be will be.

But wherefore the King of K, of groined ground to grief. Closethed sight of paining, teethed gritted he will go on and on. But gasp, a kin of the Dutch proclamates nay, ye shall place thyself uponeth the slats in the dugoutethness of nothingness and set mind and life upon more winworthy chances. Little jots are cared for of the tears from greengold disciples. A ruse perhaps? Pain now pleasure thereafter?

A quad! Oh, a quad of quandary hitteth our net, and feel stabbingly surreal. The sauerkraut never tasted sweeter for them, but bittersour uponeth our palates. Miserygrief, as our TeeCee is displayed the bloodcard, an invitation to sit alongside the King of K and weep the weep of weepishness.

A glimmer? Have we faith for a glimmer?

A Desirous Date with a Crepe

Irritability, it descends upon one at various moments for usually ridiculous reasons. I found myself in SinCity central today, nerd/geek levels bubbling high, in pursuit of a new toy to call my own. You may declare me sad and tragic but I along with many others was lusting after a shiny new iPad without success as it seems demand had well and truly outstripped supply. Not even if I had a face full of acne and sinus irritability would it convince the gods of gadgets that I was geek enough to be delivered salvation in the form of the sexy slate.

I plonked myself down in the Myer food court, as brunch beckoned, disgusted with myself for falling for this stupid consumerist trap. I soon made the decision "Fuck 'em, if they can't give me what I want, they can wait for my money". My stomach, bless it be, rumbled agreement and suggested an alternative desire. I agreed and after a short negotiation settled on a crepe. Happiness and pleasure was soon to replace my ill feeling.

If you have something to say against the crepe, express it now and then forever hold your peace. I settled on a filling of prosciutto, cheese, chopped tomato, Spanish onion and rocket. I wish to express the fact that every mouthful sent a wonderful shiver up my spine, in a way similar to the shiver one gets while indulging in a bit of the other. I think having an orgasm in the Myer food court from eating a crepe would be rather poor form, and luckily I can control myself when I need to. I think it may be necessary to release unto the world a small bit of information which I hope is not used against me. Not only do I like crepe's, I also like pancakes. I especially like pancakes drenched with golden syrup. I like pancakes drenched with golden syrup so much that I would happily give up my search for an iPad and eat golden syrup drenched pancakes instead.

As you can see, my mind does have its peculiarities.