grußgott

SOME STUFF FROM THE FIRST COUPLE DAYS OF PRAIRIE’S WORLD CUP TRIP

  • I thought DFW sucked, but that was before I had to make a connection in Toronto
  • If you’re drinking every time you see Michael Ballack (hereafter referred to as “Baron von Ãœberbeiht”) in an ad, you’ve got your slant on but good for the whole tournament
  • Everyone here who’s been acting in an official capacity–stadium stewards, railway conductors, info desk people–has been super nice
  • Korea game viewing parties are a great place to watch hot Korean chicks, or rather, watch pasty white monkeys try embarrasingly to mack on hot Korean chicks
  • Hey Eddie, if you were really up for watching the ball, perhaps you coulda stayed at home
  • Each ICE train bound for a game venue city will discharge at every stop at least one German businessman who looks none too pleased to be on a party train
  • Keee-rist, they weren’t kidding about getting the nosebleed seats
  • Players’ parents spotted by me and/or Magpie: 2. (Gooch and Heydude)
  • The European outlet converter sold at Radio Shack is a waste of money when you arrive to discover all the outlets are recessed
  • Everyone, male or female, working at the Lufthansa lost baggage counter in Frankfurt is wicked hot
  • Dude, we’re at the motherfucking World Cup
  • Turns out the one Slovak profanity I know means the same in Czech
  • More from the “it’s just like anime fandom” files: managing to meet up with nearly everyone I needed to within about ten seconds of getting off the train in Gelsenkirchen (not dissimilar from the phenomenon at conventions where you’ll just run into your buddies if you circle the dealers’ room enough)
  • Up there with “picking underwear off floor of Meadowlands” for things I never expected to do in my life, let alone as a result of watching the 2002 World Cup: Sleeping on the floor of the Frankfurt airport, using the Sam’s Army New England Brigade banner as a mat
  • A short tour of German TV options: soccer, Spongebob, tits, Kim Possible, fourteen home shopping channels
  • Spongebob’s German dub sounds exactly like the English one.
  • Then there were these bloated, sunburnt English dudes in the next car over from us on the train from Gelsenkirchen to Dusseldorf after the game on Monday, guys came into the car insisting we sing. The car, full of Americans in none too good a mood and a couple of Czechs who just couldn’t be bothered, stared blankly until the English guys left.
  • Speaking of national stereotypes, 9 out of 10 Mexicans I’ve seen here has been pretty damn gordo
  • You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting either Brazilians or Aussies
  • All in all, we cannot stop singing, we cannot start sinking; we swim until it ends. They may kill, we may be parted, but we will never be broken hearted.
  • True to NE tradition, we did have mozzarella sticks after the game on Monday
  • “Hey, we just got a case of beer, and it was super cheap! What’s ‘alcoholischfrei’ mean?” “Y’all just bought a case of Malta Goya.”
  • Honestly, I’d have felt ripped off if this trip didn’t involve one completely pointless all-nighter
  • National stereotypes, part 3: The lady on the train with the “99 Luftballoons” ringtone, and the multiple guys blasting awful techno as only the Germans can make it
  • We also really did see the guy who has to get back to Tanzentrum in Stuttgart in time to see Kraftwerk, so macht schnell with ze artwork, funboys
  • And a Citroen 2CV covered in Astroturf (“MOW MY CAR!”)
  • “It’s the world’s biggest party, and I’ve got an invitation” on Monday became “It’s the world’s biggest party, and some creepy dude is hitting on me, and the music sucks, and the neighbors are threatening to call the cops, and we’re out of everything but Natty Ice, and someone just threw up on the dog.”

Party’s far from over, of course. I’m here for another ten days. Photos to come when I feel like batch processing the damn things.

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