Your Return to Normal Quizo Update

After the... shall we say... generally adverse reaction to last week's e-mail I have once again returned to our regular format, providing you with your weekly dose of sarcasm and misery. This is not to say that I don't hope people occasionally laugh - though recent evidence indicates I am somewhat deficient in that specific area - but misery is more interesting, most of the time.

A brief wrapup of recent events:

Saturday morning saw Chelsea beat Charlton 1-0, which when you consider that Charlton may be the worst soccer team in the entire world (including, like, the Wissinoming under-11s) is not that great a result, especially when Andriy Shevchenko could have had about 4 goals if he would only remember that the key to scoring is to not kick the ball directly at the keeper. Chelsea's win did put us a scant three points behind Manchester United, though that certainly wouldn't last ( c.f. Sunday morning, a bit later)

Saturday night was Johnny Goodtimes Quizo Bowl 3, which my team would have won if I were not such a goddamned idiot. There was a time when I actually played Quizo quite regularly, but since it passed recently I have apparently gotten out of practice and am now subject to pathetic mistakes that cost me and my teammates many hundreds of dollars. I would hang my head in shame were I capable of shame or guilt; as it stands I merely get pissy at my teammates for not catching and correcting my wrong answers.

Sunday morning Manchester United was playing at Tottenham, who have an excellent record at home (9 wins of 12) and with a draw would close our gap on United to 4. Hell, a win would keep it at 3. Of course, neither of those things happened, Tottenham got absolutely thumped AT HOME 4-0 and drive United's goal difference into 6 figures. I spent most of Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon muttering "fucking Spurs..." to myself until just before the Super Bowl when I did my back carrying laundry, preventing me from going anyplace other than my couch for the game.

Then, of course, the game came on, and the Sex Cannon's antics made all the pain go away. We love you, Rex - never change. Not one bit.

Then Peyton Manning won the Super Bowl MVP and I got pissed again because he certainly doesn't deserve it. There's no justice, I swear.

JLK