You may have heard, but Japan won the Women’s World Cup. How that happened, I have no idea. It was probably some post-tsunami pity going in their favor. As a dedicated American, S organized a huge viewing party just so he could watch me perform seppuku after Japan lost. Luckily that didn’t end up happening. Here’s the unnecessarily overly detailed email invite that went out to all our white friends:
Well suhpwise suhpwise. Da sneaky Japanese purred off a victory ginst da Swedes.
Now it’s on like Donkey Kong. You called down the thunder. Now you got it. The age old rivalry between the US and Japan pops up again. Now I could launch into a litany of Pearl Harbor, Iwo Jima and (dare I say) Hiroshima (/Nagasaki) references… so I will. Thank God I’m an American winner.
Now before you retire to your dungeon sex lair to commit the rights of seppuku as you’ve come to realize the futility of F’in with the US of A, I want to brow beat you for a while. First, how dare you beat the Swedes! Women’s soccer is like nails on a chalkboard for me, and mild arousal is the only thing that makes the experience bearable. The French women today were surprisingly cute and shorn under their armpits. The US women, while having a few definite misses, for the most part bring the goods. The Swedes…oh, my heart flutters. Golden goddesses straight from Asgard. Fleet of foot yet full of bossom. But alas, Sunday I will be watching a bunch of squat, chestless, heartless wenches. Instead of stacking the team with traditional Japanese girls — giggling, Hello Kitty-loving school girls who wish so much that they could one day look like Sailor Moon — the Japanese have decided to put their best (butch) foot forward and go with a collection of girls who probably sound like Jaba the Hut when they laugh. I wouldn’t be surprised to see these girls perform the Haka prior to the match on Sunday. Well done.
Second, get ready to get your ass kicked (again). And I’m not just referencing the Lady Yanks’ record against your Japanese Cavity Creeps (21-0-3).
- We continuously beat you on discovering meaningful technology. Yeah, Tamagotchi pets were cute, but they’re small potatoes compared to integrated circuits (thank you Texas Instruments), airplanes, television, playing it cool and atomic bombs.
- We beat you on good looking women. Kate Upton over Devon Aoki any day of the week.
- We beat you in every sports imaginable. Outside of Judo, Sumo and this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_8iztLC_Vw&feature=related), over what sports can the Japanese claim dominance? And no, surviving Godzilla attacks is not comparable to the WWF’s King of the Ring.
- Oh, and we beat you in a little squirmish called W-W-2. And now we beat down Japanese pride everyday as we occupy your country from here to eternity.
I didn’t actually read any of this, but all I knew was that I wasn’t disputing any of these points since no one hates the motherland like I do. Obviously I was rooting for USA despite the fact that the team was a bunch of broad shouldered dykes with horrible skin just looking to get face fucked and/or munch a ton of boxx (I guess better than the Japanese team who looked like a bunch of 12 year old boys who needed to get anally raped) — and as such, I fully supported all the propaganda posters that Colonel J had specially made for this occasion, including this one:
Say No To Prostitutes
I applaud his PhotoShop skills. I also applaud S’s cooking skills — in the spirit of America, he made sliders for everyone (all you can eat) and got an entire large tray full of Belgian fries with truffle, mango, wasabi and curry mayonnaise.
Homemade Sliders
Mini Dericious
Belgian Fries
I had a total of 8 sliders that day. And while the game may have possibly been the most boring soccer game – or any game for that matter – that I’d ever seen in my life, I did enjoy the all you can eat sliders/fries and all you can drink Four Loko. I left S’s apartment that day full of meat, liquids and maybe some pride (that’s what she said).
Poverexic in NYC 