What happens when a douche meets an even bigger douche


Sometimes you see something that just makes you happy, and watching football last week certainly did that for me. Specifically from the moment the above photo was taken during the the recent PSV vs Ajax football match. In it we see the douchebag Ibrahim Affely dangerously tackling the other biggest douchbag in Dutch football, Uruguan Luis Surarez.

This tackle began an incredibly petty and childish sequence from two players whose entire reputations are built on pettiness and childishness A stupid tackle by Afellay led to Suarez purposefully kicking him on the way down, which led to a lame stand-off and a giant piece of flailing and flopping by Afellay. Affelay earned a yellow card for the tackle. See the entire sequence here:



Soon after, a frustrated Suarez did one of the stupidest things any sportsplayer could do and bit in another PSV player’s shoulder.

Here are some stills:

(Note also how he is pulling the middle finger behind his back. What a toss-job.)

Suarez was banned for two matches by his own club, and 7 matches by Fifa, and he gave a very vague answer as to why he did it, something about competitiveness and 'what happens on the field stays on the field'. Sure, I remember Mike Tyson said after he bit the ear of Holyfield that he was 'protecting his family'. Sure, crazy person, whatever you say. My theory is that Suarez probably mistook the PSV player for a carrot. I mean, seriously, put on some playboy bunny ears on him, and he could be a star alongside Michael Jordan in Space Jam II.



Background
It pains me to call Abraham Afellay a douchebag. I wish it were different, because he is freaking good and plays for Holland. He is just a selfish player who always goes for his own goal rather than making a good pass, flopping as soon as he gets in the box, and stupid whiney stunts like when he elbowed another player last year. He reminds me of a more unlikeable and less-skilled Christian Ronaldo. Excuse me while I throw up.
Thankfully, next year he will no longer be playing in Holland as he is going to Barcelona. On behalf of all people in Holland who don't like douche-bags, thank you. Maybe even he might learn a lesson in humility playing against better players (or even better, by not making the starting 11).

On the other hand, I have zero qualms about calling Suarez a giant sack-of-shit. First of all, he plays for Ajax. Secondly, he falls down and whines and acts like a female tennis player’s overprotective father. See the next two photos as evidence:



I saw an interview once where he said his new year’s resolution was to try cut down on flopping and his whining. He never has, as seen by the biting incident.Not that I need any more reason to hate him, but Uruguay played against Holland in the World Cup semi-finals. Like everybody else who has ever seen any Dutch football, we were expecting to see Suarez fall down more often than a drunken baby, however, in the previous match he had earned a red card against Ghana by something he hilariously dubbed ‘the hand of God’. Seriously, if God had a hand, he would use it to bitchslap him. Until I see that, I am still agnostic.

So let us cherish this magical meeting of two epically douche douchebags for what it was. Because life is too short to not enjoy special moment like this.

They Reminisce Over You

For those who occasionally check by this site and wonder what happened to make me stop writing, I apologise. Unemployment kind of took my internet-writing mojo away for a while, but occasionally something happens that just makes you want to share. Last night I chanced across a video that I had originally wanted to see and show - but most of all see - in May after my puppy Yuki played dead for the last time. This video was from when I came home for the first time in three and a half years, and 5 months before she died.

Watching it made me remember that there was no better possible way to come home... "was".



The song used for the video is a classic Hip-Hop instrumental from They Reminisce Over You by Pete Rock and CL Smooth. After all of this, I kind of realised something: for me, home is where your dog is.

Anyway, thanks for letting me share. I'm sure soon there will be an announcement as to what my next big plans are, as soon as I know them myself.

Dutch Safari

First off, my absence from writing here has mainly to do with the fact that I am unemployed and homeless.

This leads us neatly onto today's posting: other things that don't have homes. Wildlife. Sukkels.

Now, I know there are many words that often come after "Dutch", like "wife", "oven", "date", "brownie", "pile driver"*, etc. However, two words you don't expect to hear after "Dutch" are "safari" and "wildlife".

In fact, Holland is so deprived of authentic wildlife, that they imagine all sorts of wildlife to be living in the mushroom-filled woods.Creepy huh? Why is thhe boy with the flower in his hair humping the ground? And by the way, I really hope that guy in the background is a mushroom. And no, I cannot make it stop. Just read on.

So, just yesterday after dinner I went with the parents to a park. It was actually a hunting reserve for the royal family, but now for 9 months of the year, it is open to the public. (The other three months of the year is a "rest period" for the animals, during which they can mate, fight, and avoid being shot at by blue-bloods. Ironic, that's almost my ideal get-away too)

So, we took a nice walk along car tyre tracks. I wasn't expecting to see much more than mushrooms. (It is supposed to be a good year for "shroomers"). However, the path got smaller, and this is what we saw:

At first, I only saw its tail, and I stupidly said "Is it a donkey?". I mean, this was a Dutch Safari, which I presumed would basically be the same as a petting zoo. But no, it was a wild boar. It had obviously heard us walking, but we saw the moment that it realised we were looking at it. There were also at least three smaller baby swines (Swinelets? Anybody? No? Forget I said anything), two of which you can see to the left of the tree. After half a minute of staring at each other, they all ran away, including another adult.


We continued on, uphill... Yes, uphill. In Holland. It was so strange to finally arrive at this 180 degree view on a vast plain. We spotted a small species of deer grazing relatively close to us, but disappointingly, even with stalker-quality binoculars, there was nothing else to see. Until, this.

Through the binoculars, we clearly saw a large group of deer walking to their grazing spot, including a buck who I would be proud to have on my wall. (I decided, both sides of the wall - head on one side, and ass on the other). There was at least 13 in the main group, and also a group of swine grazing nearby too.

Okay, maybe objectively, this seems like a lame safari, but I just want to dispel some misconceptions about the Netherlands, so that I can enjoy reinforcing them again at a later stage.

Bonus:

While in the small German town of Rheine, we saw this ridiculously cute eekhoorn (squirrel). It was right behind the main chuch on the main square, and it had an acorn in its mouth. I just wanted to cuddle it. I'm not afraide of rabies - it is almost a rite of passage for the homeless.




*"Dutch pile driver" is not actually a known term. As far as I know. But don't let this stop you from thinking about it and ruining your appetite.

Whoring Around

This may be the most appropriate posting I have made since the change of this weblog to "At Home in Ho-land". Okay, sure, the main definition of a "whore" is somebody that offers sex for money, but in the looser sense (no pun intended) of the word, a whore is somebody that does something that they don't want to do for money.

I have had many posts in the past about interesting places I have worked, and over the last year and a half, I have seen so much, been to very interesting places, and met some unforgettable people. In all, this was a great way to reintegrate into my native country of birth. No question. However, reintegration was my keyword of last year. I have nothing left to learn. See, the problem with being a substitute lunch-lady is that whereever you go, you are new. You are inexperienced. You need to be told what to do. Now, I have a little secret to tell you all, but don't tell any caterers this: "All professional kitchens are pretty much the same". But people who stay in the same kitchen for 10plus years love nothing better than to boss around some new person who will probably never come back again.

One year, sure. I can live with that. But now that I have worked for a good half year longer, I am so close to re-enacting this scene from the classic (ly bad) movie, Half Baked:


Honestly, I can't imagine how good that would feel, but I am close. And when you start having these types of fantasies, maybe you should get out while you still don't have a criminal record.

However, it was confirmed that I am a whore. My pimp called me yesterday and gave me a job, and I accepted. Hey, I figure that 'Whore money can buy just as much food as non-whore money.' Just ask a lawyer (they are all whores, by the way).

So, I biked more than half an hour to go the place where I would whore-out my services. It turned out to at be the European Space science centre (think of a lamer version of NASA). Now, most of the people who work here are most-likely, considerable nerds. (and emperical evidence proved that point to be correct). But they are nerds with money. And nerds with money are vengeful. This is why, I beleive, they forced this completely nerdy uniform onto me. For the first time in my catering career, I felt truly degraded. And I have picked up food after people younger than me knowingly dropped it, I have been on my knees scrubbing floors, I have had rearrange an entire walk-in freezer which took so long that my nipples wouldn't subside for days afterwards. But the shame I felt today at the Space Station, as I tried to attach a clip-on bowtie, that cannot be topped. Wait, Yes it can: they also made me wear a stupid paper hat. But i still did it, because I am a whore. And here is the evidence to prove it.

I once wore a bowtie when I was 17, when as a joke I was performing in a talent quest for over 1000 people. My talent was to juggle two tennis balls while climbing through a stringless tennis raquet. However, on the morning of the event, somebody asked me what I was going to wear. "I don't know", I replied, probably in a teenagery way. But it was suggested to me that I go to the costume store to find something ridiculous to wear for it. So I did, and the "costume" I rented for the event was a white shirt and a bowtie. I repeat: this was the most ridiculous thing I could find to wear - at a freaking costume store! So, yes, wearing this today, was so very degrading.

Now, the only other demographic that wears a bowtie are the Chippendale dancers.

So the question is, is being a stripper better than being a whore? Judging from how quickly I took off that bowtie, I think I know the answer.