....So we got humped....

oh jesus... 
I have to say Ive been a bad patriot today - I opted to go and see the
Mars Volta tonight at the Barrowlands rather than watch the Scotland
game tonight. I'm glad I did in the event - easily the gig of the year
for me and I can say that without contradiction - if you have interest
in music and can tolerate a severe dose of self-indulgence on the
band's part, honestly, do your ears justice and give them a swatch. 

So I was, throughout the gig and the pub afterwards, completely
oblivious to the severe humping we had been dealt by the dastardly men
of Orange (and I'm not talking about Rangers btw). There was a idylic,
Schroedinger's Cat period where it was after 10:30pm and yet I still
held the belief that, for once, the national side would buck the trend
- they'd be able to overcome, birth, circumstance and general poor
odds to actually achieve a significant, if perhaps cruelly
unrealistic, dream of winning against quality opposition over 2 legs. 

Alas, I was informed of our fate by the drunken ned at the local
lunatics bus stop; you know the one - where, inevitably at obscene
hours of the night, the strays, crazys and general undesireables of a
large, dirty, city always tend to congregate for the last bus out of
town.He's also the one thats "no a fuckin' racist" but hates the
'gooks'. 

Then there's the pished homeless kid with his froth teeth missing;
angry at some nearby holidaying Spaniards for speaking amongst each
other in Spanish (god forbid!). He also says that he's 'no gonny punch
me' and that he's 'no a f'kn junky'. He's also due to go back to the
hostel for midnight or he has to walk the streets (its 12:30pm at this
time, incidentally). Perhaps its fitting that I discover our fate from
the people with the least to feel patriotic about. As a nation - are
we even fit for humiliating defeat? 

6-0.... 

6-0.... 

*sigh*