What’s wrong with this picture? Go ahead, take a good look.

If you notice the huge ditch crossing the highway, give yourself a cookie. That’s upstate New York, around Sidney, and the damage was caused by incredibly horrid weather.

My friend Tanya lives an hour outside of Albany, and she was telling me how bad it was. “It was really bad,” she said, “houses washed away and shit.”

And it’s not getting better.

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After all the hoopla on TV and the big promotional deal FIFA made with McDonald’s, and the simple fact that no matter where I go I bump into it, I figured I would chime in with my thoughts on the biggest sports spectacle since…

The World Cup, friends, is the big thing today. Countries from around the world are putting their pride and respect and all their marbles on the line to say they are indeed the best soccer team on Earth.

Those that know me know I am a big baseball fan, I can follow football, basketball is a dead sport to me, and hockey? Those bums betrayed the fans, and they lost me as a loyal fan (not that I was loyal before, but I didn’t see one game this season, which is a rarity).

So how does John feel about soccer and the World Cup?

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I think anyone who has known me for any amount of time knows that I’m something of a breast man. One frequent commentator on my journal (which is a less embarassing way to say “my LiveJournal“) gave me the nickname Boobiemonster, presumably because I get blue, furry and googly eyed when in the presence of especially outstanding breasts.

Now, I don’t want to seem like I am abandoning boobs - far from it - but I have come around to the other side, as it were. I have seen Vida Guerra’s ass and now, praise be the booty gods, I am a believer in the power of tush.

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I opened up a bank account recently. They told me at WAMU that I would be getting my checks and bank card in a week. So I waited the week, and got my checks as scheduled. The bank card…

That took another week. Apparently they did it that way for “security reasons.” Because apparently someone can’t write a check and steal all my money, they need the bank card, too. Sorry, but it’s still going to the same address, right?

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“So, do I pull the trigger or what, pal?”

Those were the last words he’d hear, he was certain of it.

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There is nothing I hate more than rubbernecking.

I just want to get to wherever it is I want to get to, and I do understand and respect the idea that if there is an accident or something, we should slow down and not add to it. But do we need to come to a screeching halt if the accident is on the other side of the highway? I don’t think so.

I’ve always been one to pull over and help someone out if they needed some kind of assistance, provided I have the luxury of time on my side. I know if something happens to me it would be nice if someone helped me out, so I try to do what I can when I see trouble on the shoulder.

But there’s a difference between that and slowing down simply to gawk and hope for carnage, dismembered body parts, or maybe a trooper yanking someone and throwing cuffs on, slamming them on the ground, or pulling a gun out and screaming like Hell.

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