To make up for my earlier rant on football I decided to come watch Boyfriend play a game. It was freezing! I was sat there and the other team was warming up on "my" side of the pitch when all of a sudden their goalie's family-jewels were hit by a ball. He drops to the ground, swearing and clutching his precious accessories. I can't help myself. I giggle. Quite loud. Giggle turns into a laugh. Laugh is stifled by a very fake cough. I did feel sorry for him but I don't know how it feels and it's apparently very painful, but it tickled me. I thought they used cups? Don't they? I mean, this tournament isn't the best in the world but they can still shoot pretty hard.It's not for me judge but if I had some ill-placed, dangling things that were very tender I sure as heck would protect them. Boys, eh? Boyfriend's team won and that's proof enough that I don't jinx them.
When we got back home we watched a program about Turkmenistan's dictator. It was a really funny program. I had no idea about the things he had done (he's dead now) i.e. he'd written a book with his thoughts and you had to pass a test on this book to get your driver's license. One tv-channel had special programs about the very same book. He was called the laughing dictator as he'd concluded that smiling was good for you. he also banned make-up as the women are the most beautiful women in the world. The best thing was that he'd built (not by himself, obviously) a 8 km long stairs that everyone was encouraged to climb on the special health-days that he had created . His own ministers had only 90 minutes(!) to complete the trek. He himself was flown to the top by a helicopter. He did of a heart attack last December. Perhaps he'd still be alive if he had climbed the stairs twice a year...
Isn't life ironic?
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