The first of an octopus moved Football World Cup on the African continent is over. The course can be superficially described as predictable. The Fifa rake in billions, South Africa is in debt to our ears and white with the great stadiums from now on what to do anymore and the large African unity erupted during the night after the final in first attacks on refugees in Cape Town townships. From their respective control and hate media sufficiently aware could be hacking but no European tourists from machete gangs, the national Buren front preferred to invest their edge to prefer Klipdrift brandy than in the bomb and so it happened that an survey of the Western Cape Tourism Ministry, 66 percent of international visitors indicated that they want to come back with their families. Sure, the odd tourist travels without his old digital camera home and a few journalists were given the opportunity to write moving stories about how they were resolved to take your car. Anyone from a country with an annual wants to shoot twelve million visitors a rope is, but obviously in bad faith.
Sporty there were a couple obligatory surprises, with the resignation of the pomade teams from France and Italy was very pleasurable, the final battle of the Bafana Bafana heartbreaking, the play style of the German team refreshing and deserved the victory of Spain. But what all this is one more hit after that latte from eleven meters in the 121st Minute of the game against Ghana, Uruguay. As a whole continent marketed with a World Cup to the image of eternal misery and tragedy to get away, and then separates the last remaining African side in the tournament like this. is to all this, then Diego Forlan, the husband of a direction-changing remote control for Jabulani, the ball has, chosen even the devil himself the player of the tournament. Two inches deep and it could have been Asamoah Gyan.
Pulpo Paul denies abwiegelnd with all eight arms, of course, any involvement in this matter. Whether it's true, I do not know. After my last hand and armgreiflichen fight with an octopus, which could decide the animal on the coast of Port Elizabeth for himself and limited my dinner on mussels with rice, I trust the octopus but no more. However, I have the tentacle-oracle be high appreciated. Since I hired during the World Cup in the ARD was, and matches with German participation in Port Elizabeth promised more work, of course I was - quite the patriot - until the semifinals ardent fan of Germany, and then the Spaniards proudest on earth. With Paul's help, it was influencing brain then also just come as it should, and I was allowed a few minutes with the presidential dance Wulff, who was at the losers final award ceremony times just jetted down. I was quite worthy of him as well-wishers for the German team, however, because the DFB-Elf, after all, had already won the second time ... but I want to
vorgauckeln nothing, because when I learned that Paul left the service soon anyway eliminated, I forgot all eh Politika and it was the Carnivore in me and then again by the grateful squid friend. In the end I picked Paul ...
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