So far the only thing the World Cup has given me, is a small belly that I have accumulated from all the beers I’ve been drinking. Is that you clapping and cheering Khaleh Maryam? ;-) You know that day you said you wanted to put me on a fatty diet of cheese and cakes and lard or whatever, you should have just waited for the World Cup.

It’s funny isn’t it how the World Cup, which for some is all bout fitness, accuracy, balance and concentration, for the rest is basically all about drunkenness, hiccups, tripping over one’s own feet while slurring, ‘’ave I ever told you? You’re sound man. You’re sound you are.’ And then squaring up to that same wall or tree or dog or whatever creature one happens to be talking to ‘You f***ing whah? You f***ing whah? Come on then. Come on.’ Right before passing out.
It was estimated that during the first month of the World Cup, 410 million cans and bottles of beer, lager or cider were going to be drunk in the UK.
Obviously Kamyar and I have been doing our bit too and so far have drunk a large quantity of lager and Guinness…while sitting in our underwear… shouting at the television, ‘Are you kidding! That was never offside.’ Hmm, add that to the fact that the only property we could afford to buy was on a council estate and that we are both extremely white at the moment on account of not having been on a holiday in the sun for the past three years, and I think you will find that we are well on our way to become the first ever Iranian white trash couple. Know wha’ I mean? Hmm, no. Maybe my language still needs a bit more work.

It was so sad England leaving the World Cup yesterday. I shed a few tears I did. England hadn’t been all that great in all their other games but I thought yesterday they played brilliantly. After that idiot, Rooney was sent off and Beckham had to come off the pitch (because…I don’t know…someone had messed his hair up or something. I don’t know what happened to him really) the rest of them played so well. They really deserved to win that game I thought. First Iran and now England; all the best teams are out.
So I sulked a bit and then went and dressed myself in tacky eighties stuff; blue and white stripy top, red and white polka dot hairclips and a pearly-looking necklace, singing,

Everyone seems to know the score
They've seen it all before
They just know
They're so sure
That England's Gonna throw it away
Gonna blow it away
They don’t know how to play

Kamyar was busy with another four hour shift of staring at the computer monitor with an open mouth. This was what he had been doing since, for no apparent reason, one day his whole website vanished off the face of the internet and when it returned some days later, it had lost a whole month of photos and insisted that it was still the 31st of May. ‘No Website dear,’ we kept saying to it, ‘it’s not the 31st of May anymore, it’s nearly the end of June now.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes we’re very sure.’
‘Well in that case I’m terribly sorry but I don’t seem to recall anything that went on after the 31st of May. Do you think I may be suffering from Amnesia?’

But I remember...
Three Lions on a shirt
Jules Rimet still gleaming
Thirty years of hurt (well forty years now)
Never stopped me dreaming

It's coming home
It's coming home
It's coming
Football's coming home

It is as well. Well the footballers are. With a long face :-(

But on a happier note; welcome back mister Kamster of Kamshots. Yay, all the staring paid off at the end :-)