Team America

« Linnanmäki's resident frylock. »

Every morning and every evening I sit on the bus in the quiet pall that is commuting, but in the last few days there are suddenly quite a few chatty people on the bus who have invaded our mute gloom; Team America. The IAFF World Championships begin next week and the athlete village is nearby so they catch the bus into the city in the futile quest for hot wings and thick, juicy steaks. What bothers me though is that I have now had several days of resisting the urge to summon my loud booming voice and start singing America, FUCK YEAH. I mean, I'm not a patriot, I'm pretty pissed off at the US in general at the moment to be sure and, yet, hearing a guy speaking English in a dialect not too far from where I'm from was inexplicably familiar in a nice way. I'm thinking that the US team won't have many people here to cheer for them and have this thought of rounding up my Yankee friends to make a banner bearing the Team America lyrics and cheer them on after having enough beer to get past the fear of getting our asses kicked by local skinheads or anyone else who takes offense to our momentary lapse in pessimism directed at our homeland. Perhaps I'll just dip into the whisky tonight and the feeling will pass and I'll instead feel the urge to dress up as a viking, get drunk and cheer for the home team.

The Helsinki Marathon is tomorrow afternoon and promises to snarl traffic for hours at rush hour on a Friday evening [see map]. At work we have been advised to leave early to avoid being stranded in the office until after 6 so I might walk home and catch a bit of people running sans predator.

And...Bridget Jones has returned but it's a real disappointment as Fielding has chosen not to go the way of boring domesticity leaving Bridget without Mr. Darcy and, instead, shagging Daniel on the first column in 8 years.

"Listen, Bridge," snarled Shazzer, "You've got to get over both of your fuckwitted exes. Mark Darcy is an emotional withholder to a degree which verges on the sadistic and Daniel is just a straightforward man-whore."

"Anyway, as they're both in their forties now, they're about to go through what we went through when we hit our thirties, and start panicking about losing their sexual power. Fuckwittage becomes a luxury you can't afford when your hair's falling out, your stomach's hanging over your trousers - and if you try it on with your 19-year-old secretary she tells you you're a dirty old man."

At least Shazzer is still in touch with reality. :) Which reminds me....My Dog is Tom Cruise.