I believe in Yesterday
Exams are over, and have been for a while now, but I'm not only lazy but also chronically late. So back off. I did surprisingly well (only one B - American History. For those keeping score at home, yes, that does mean I got an A in Janet's class. I win at life.
So with school being over I've finally been able to immerse myself in a life of fantasy.
My fantasy baseball team, The Mighty Walruses, was feeling oh-so-neglected during school because I actually gave a shit about doing well in the fourth quarter. But now that school is out and I find myself at home for chunks of hours at a time, I spend a good chunk of those chunks being consumed by fantasy baseball. The Mighty Walruses are making a comeback and have begun their rise to the top back from last place, and have decided to adopt an alternate mascot due to said events. So on days when I feel Walruses will not suffice, the name The Flying Voldemorts will be there to jump in and joyously proclaim the team's reascent to power.
The World Cup is near. I am excited, as anyone who has had to wait four years for such an event would be. However, unlike sports fand from other countries, I have been able to pass that time with one NHL Championship (The Red Wings), a BCS National Championship (LSU), a brawl that dismantled my favorite team (Pacers-Pistons melee), a Champions League championship from one of my favorite club teams (Liverpool), a Super Bowl run (The Colts, repeatedly), and various other little things. So I am more sated than other countries' fans, as are most Americans, which explains why I do not set cars on fire when we lose or take out insurance policies based solely of the possibility of psychological trauma caused by my side's inevitable exit from the Cup this year. (It's all the rage in England.)
Speaking of the World Cup, a lot of Americans either don't see the bad side of the sport or underestimate it. I love the game very much but there are indeed some ugly incidents that will take place in Germany during the coming months. For example, the slew of death threats that United States soccer players have received. Unlike the "threatening e-mails" that some athletes may receive back home, people overseas actually want to kill you, and intend to do so. For instance, English police have over 3,500 certified Hooligans (I swear, it's an actual term over there) who are required to turn in their passports whenever their national team plays overseas, so that they are not allowed to travel. I find this interesting and amusing, but not so whenever three of them manage to escape a fucking island and just so happen to wind up in Germany. So there's my fair warning that a lot of soccer fans are certifiably mad, and that we'd all be crazy not to expect an incident to occur over the course of a month in a crazy place like Germany.
Going back to the whole fantasy theme, I also have a World Cup fantasy team. For non-sports fans, there is a fantasy league for everything, except perhaps for a distinct lack of fantasy billiards, from which I assume ESPN has not yet figured out a way to make money. So my World Cup fantasy team is loaded and ready to go, co-captained (in my fictitious mindset) by Brazil's crazy goalie Dida (Brazilian soccer players have not yet discovered the miracle of the second name) and Mexico's even crazier forward Jared Borgetti. They too are named the Walruses, and will rule the world for the coming weeks.
While sports are fine and dandy, I have not limited my fantasy life to solely grand athletic pursuits. On June 1 I turned 18, meaning that it is now legal for me to persue what Ron White once termed "sins of the flesh." I took full advantage of this oppurtunity and went out with Stephen Richard that night and basically purchased everything that I possibly could: one filthy yet classy magazine (Playboy), a lighter, and a pack of cancer sticks (Marlboro regular - I always was plain and traditional). The half of the cigarette that I smoked wasn't quite as memorable as it was disgusting, but the same cannot be said of the smut, which I enjoyed thoroughly. For those of you who I have not proclaimed the word to yet, it is like Sports Illustrated with a couple naked women, making it my favorite magazine ever. Maybe.
So that's my life right now. Go Walruses. All of them.