I'm Worried
I don't what it is, perhaps the fact that summer so far has been a parade of the dreariest fucking days imaginable, but I've just started producing this extra energy, a way to compensate, mental warmth I suppose. Burning through unhealthy obsessions with random pop culture figures is nothing new for me, obviously, but I've been going at them at such a break neck speed in the past few weeks, I'm afraid I'll burn myself out before July gets here. My plan for the blog here over the next few days is to breakdown the things that I've become obsessed with, as a way to share, and hopefully, detox. So to start:
- Football. Like, the actual one, with the feet and all. After watching the champions League Final with actual soccer fans, I've begun the mental preparations necessary for giving my life over to the World Cup for the next month. I've actually spent the time reading up on teams and the like, and not that my time is especially jam packed and precious, but the fact that I've been able to tear myself away from the Shiloh Nouvelle Jolie-Pitt coverage is, in itself, a miracle. Football has also exposed me to my newfound hero, Peter Crouch, who has taken what was once the most shameful of white boy dances and turned it into a beloved sign of national victory.
- Football. Like, the actual one, with the feet and all. After watching the champions League Final with actual soccer fans, I've begun the mental preparations necessary for giving my life over to the World Cup for the next month. I've actually spent the time reading up on teams and the like, and not that my time is especially jam packed and precious, but the fact that I've been able to tear myself away from the Shiloh Nouvelle Jolie-Pitt coverage is, in itself, a miracle. Football has also exposed me to my newfound hero, Peter Crouch, who has taken what was once the most shameful of white boy dances and turned it into a beloved sign of national victory.
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