Image via WikipediaRight, just so we're abundantly clear on this, I don't like football. I don't dislike it, I mean chaque a son goute and all that, it's just that it leaves me cold. It does nothing for me. It doesn't float my boat.
Which means that the next three weeks are going to be hell. We're already bombarded with World Cup themed advertising, including football patterned doughnuts, radio ads where the sound of people screaming 'Goooooooaaaaaaaaaalllllll' suddenly erupt in my car (why do advertisers think that playing unpleasant sounds to people is likely to do anything other than irritate them?) and endless billboards featuring people who have painted their heads different colours in some display of crypto-neolithic tribalism.
The newspapers are filling with pictures of happy blowing plastic trumpets (apparently they're called vuvuzelas, which I didn't know before, so thanks for that) and even Twitter is starting to populate with 'Are you watching the game tonight?' tweets. I have the nasty feeling that the only thing to do is lock myself in a lead vault underground in a remote and unpopulated island. There are a number of people that would agree with this course of action as being as beneficial to them as it is to me, I know.
Mind you, at least it's minimised the appearances of that little yellow git...