Spain are Euro 2008 Champions. Yawn.

So. That happened.

You know how Americans (and I am totally generalizing here, but after enduring that piece of shit soccer match, I'm allowed to generalize) hate soccer because no one ever scores and it's boring?

Here's what happened in the Germany/Spain final: Nobody scored. It was boring. Outside of a fluky goal by Spain's Fernando Torres and his tragic, tragic hair during which every single person in my basement screamed, in unison, 'WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, LEHMANN?' (I also got a pair of text messages and an instant message demanding the exact same valuable piece of information.) Lehmann was overmatched, out of place, and it was a whole big stupid mess and Lahm (the pocket defender) has a lot of explaining to do as to why Torres could get past him like that.

But that was it. That was the only goal. Torres had a shot later, and missed. The most hilarious whiff of the tourney, however, goes to Spain's Marcos Senna who had a perfect shot lined up and instead, tripped over his own feet and went sliding to the ground...backwards, while the ball sailed off helplessly.

Germany never showed up. There were questions as to whether or not German midfielder Michael Ballack would even start and, well, I'll be honest. Outside of suddenly becoming mindblowingly hot when he came away from a collision with blood streaming down his face, he....didn't really do much of anything. At all. Well, except get himself a yellowcard and unloading on the ref, which was also, um, hot. Bastian Schweinsteiger tried, but when no one else (Podolski, where the hell were you?) on his team showed up to help him out, there was only so much he could do.

When it boils down to it, both teams played some pretty atrocious football, but Germany just couldn't break through Spain's first line of defense, and so the final remains Spain 1-0 Germany. Blech.

Great, Spain. Go lift your racist-ass coach over your head some more. I really, really hope that you drop him, and that he takes out a chunk of Sergio Ramos' hair on the way down. (Yeah, I don't so much like Spain. Or Aragones.)

Hot Sweet Shit, the Euro just went bugfuck crazy.

After a weekend of staid and expected results (*yawn* Germany beat Poland, Austria embarrassed themselves, the Swiss demonstrated why they really should stay neutral in all international events and Portugal...won. The bitches.) Euro 2008 has managed to go all kinds of crazy over the last two days.

First an upstart Romanian team playing completely out of their heads managed to tie France, one of the favorites. Fine, fine, France didn't lose, exactly, but they couldn't manage to hang a point on Romania- the assumed weakest team in Group C, the Group of Death. But hey. It's Euro 2008. We wouldn't get out of the first round without some wacky-ass tie.

Or, you know. A wacky-ass loss. Because that's what happened when the Oranje (the Netherlands) hung up three goals to Nil on Italy, the defending World Cup Champions. Now. One of those goals, the first from Ruud van Nistelrooy, was, to put it mildly, controversial. (This particular bitch, having spent the entirety of the 2006 World Cup shrieking at the Azzuri for being a bunch of flopping bitches, takes particular delight in recognizing that Italy went down by a goal because Christian Panucci was too busy flopping off the pitch to pay attention to what was happening in the game. Suck it, Azzuri.) In the end, it didn't matter, as Holland scored twice more as the Italians couldn't put a game together. They were sluggish, they were slow, they were old (every member of the team over 30) and it. Was. Beautiful.

In fact, it might have been the craziest thing to happen since this weekend, until this afternoon's first match- Spain v. Russia. Russia lost, of course, because European teams only falter in Russia in the winter, but that's not the news. The news is David Villa's hat trick of goals, the first hat trick in Euro play in eight years. Spain wound up spanking the Russians 4-1 thanks to a head in from My Arsenal Boyfriend Cesc Fabregas.

For his ridiculous performance against the Russians, David Villa gets the honor of today's picture post. Look, people, there are some shallow reasons I watch soccer, too.

Euro 2008 kicks off, or sweet fancy fuck, I hate Cristiano Ronaldo.

So Los Bitches are having an email summit on the fact that we, uh, have kind of sucked at posting lately. Like, we have sucked at posting like Tony Romo sucks in the playoffs, or like Julio Lugo sucks in the infield. (That means we suck a lot.) That's going to change, rest assured.

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.

Whatever, Portsmouth. Nobody cares.

Okay, so it is ridiculously late at night, but this East Coast Bitch just had to suffer through some ridiculous fucking Phillies baseball (seriously, why does Adam Eaton/Tom Gordon/the fact that Rod Barajas can suddenly put the wood on the ball hate me?) and then I got stuck in traffic trying to get home from the city because the Schuylkill is fucking ricockulous, no matter what, and I may be rambling.

Anyway, Nobody Cares But Maggie, but Portsmouth won the FA Cup earlier today. Over Cardiff. I figured I should mention it.

I'm paralyzed by not caring, as the match itself was horrifically boring, by all accounts, and Cardiff is the fifth second tier team to face Portsmouth this season's FA Cup schedule, which is akin to letting the Mets get away with playing the Nationals and the Orioles to get to the World Series, only to beat the Tigers in four. Basically? Lame.

Really, the match was only notable because Aaron Ramsay became the youngest player to EVER play in an FA Cup match at SEVENTEEN, which makes me feel both out of shape and old, simultaneously.

The sad thing is that Comcast Cable actually tried to charge me $25 to watch the game on Pay-Per-View. Y'all, that is why it sucks to be a stateside soccer fan- we get shit scheduling from Fox Soccer Channel and then we have to pay to watch the semi-important matches.

They are, however, broadcasting the Chelsea/Manchester United European Cup Final match on Wednesday, which means I'm going to have to do some creative juggling with my schedule.

Look, people, Euro 2008 is coming. That means exactly two things. 1) That means ALL KINDS OF SOCCER UPDATES from yours truly, and 2) EUROVISION.

People, if I can teach you nothing, it is that Eurovision is the most COMPLETELY FUCKNG CRACKED OUT THING YOU WILL EVER SEE IN YOUR ENTIRE EXISTENCE ON THIS EARTH, and you will ADORE IT FOREVER, if you give it a shot. Seriously, it makes the only fun part of American Idol (the part where all the terrible singers embarrass themselves trainwreck-style) look tame.

No. Seriously.



God, I love the Ukraine.