Let's talk about the rugby.
Yes, I know about sports! One thing most people don't know about me is that I was well on my way to becoming an Olympic sports commentator before I changed direction and decided to become a receptionist. I thought it was a better use of my talents. Plus, the pay is infinitely better.
So, the semi-finals on Sunday. Of course we all knew the Kiwi's would dominate, but did it have to be so...brutal? It was bad. Not just because of the loss, but also because I was watching it with my sister Catherine, and she kept comparing every Australian misfortune on the field to anal rape:
(New Zealand recieves another penalty)Catherine: What?! We're getting raped out there!!
(Australia fumbles the ball)
Catherine: Oh, fuck me in the ass!
(I come back from the bathroom and ask for an update)
Catherine: There's a penis in the bottom of every Australian in the world right now.
Calm down, ya Navy freak!
Anyway, we lost. Luckily for me, I'm not that invested in this particular game; if Geelong had gone down to Collingwood in the AFL Grand Final 2 weeks ago, I would have set my apartment on fire. But since this was only Union, I just punched a hole in the TV and threw my dog off a balcony.
Pretending I know anything about Rugby Union reminds me of an amusing anecdote from my high school days. One day my friend Pat (who used to play for Riverview) turned up to my house with a broken arm. What followed was what I like to call one of my 'Blonde Moments'.
Me: Pat, what happened to your arm?
Pat: A prop fell on me.
Me: Oh! Are you in a play?
Think about it. Think about it.
I am a moron.
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