Anyway, my point is this: As we're all talking, I'm watching the Portugal/Turkey Euro 2008 match that I taped earlier today and further injuring my already-on-fire-due-to-the-zombie-death-flu throat screaming at Portugal that I hope certain anatomically impossible things happen to them or to their grandmothers.
Most of my ire, though, has been aimed squarely at His Bitchiness Cristiano Ronaldo. Here's something you need to understand before we really get into the tournament: I. Motherfucking. Loathe. Cristiano Ronaldo. I hate him. I hate his stupid face. I hate his stupid half-mullet fauxhawk hairdo (Jackass in the Front, Douuuuuchebag in the back). I hate that he puts enough gel in his stupid hair to equip most of the Bleacher Creature contingent in Yankee Stadium for a week solid. I hatehatehate his stupid fucking stutterstep. (Although I loved it when he tried to pull one on a PK in the Champions League final, fooling exactly no one least of all Cesc in goal, and leading to missing the shot, which damn near killed his team's shot at repeating. It would have, too, had John Terry not slipped on the wet grass and missed HIS kick, a fact that made this Arsenal supporter's heart grow three sizes that day.)
I can't even watch him. I can't. Really. I know that he's going to pull off at least one ridiculous maneuver during every game that will leave everyone staring slackjawed at their screen trying to figure out HOW IN THE HELL HE DID THAT, and I'll still be punching a couch pillow in fury hoping that he dies painfully in a fire or develops some horrible genetic mutation, the result of which inivolves both kneecaps spontaneously shooting off his body mid-game and blinding him. Hate.
In short: Welcome to Euro 2008. Fuck Ronaldo, and fuck Portugal. Know those two things, abide by them, and we'll get along just fine this month.
