I’ll keep this short, because I’m watching the end of Alien vs. Predator and it’s fucking sweet.
Last night, a fella from Glasgow told me an amazing story about a soccer match gone wrong. It was the normal Scottish hooligan deal, tire-irons, knifing etc., none of which is really that fresh and mindblowing, the Scottish always beat the shit out of each other, right? But not so fast, legs, because this was a local squab, and it wasn’t just Scots fighting Scots, it was Scots fighting motherfucking Koreans. I don’t know if that’s as ridiculous to you as it is to me, but for a flesh-and-blood hooligan to be hit over the head with a tire-iron by an irate Korean after a soccer match in Texas seems to be just the type of shit that bastard globalization and fusion cuisine have been breeding under our nose for years in this city.
Next time I’m out playing jai-alai against a bunch of filthy Pakistanis, I’m not taking any chances; I’m packing nunchucks and my jihad bandana. I can no longer just sit around balls-fresh drinking mojitos; letting globalization ruin our local traditions anymore – great local traditions like soccer games in the park and Cinco de Mayo and getting really fucking fat. It’ll be a cold day in hell when some Mongolian takes away my double felafel sandwich, because I’m about to do something about it. Something totally big. I swear. Maybe. At least, something right after Alien vs. Predator is over, and my fashionable yet affordable Asian-made pants finish drying.