Tag: Brazil

Australian soccer needs a drama queen

Posted on by SW

So Australia is out of the World Cup. Again.

We didn’t make it beyond the Group Stage, by forgetting the premise of the game – get the ball into the net – especially against that football superpower Peru.

Right now, the clipboard-wielding boffins at Football Federation Australia are locked in crisis-think tank-workshop-post mortems, ruminating where our campaign went wrong,
and hopefully looking down the back of the lounge for a striker.

Australia’s new soccer coach

As Australia embarks on the sandblasted “Road To Qatar”, I have the solution, and it has nothing to do with kicking said ball. It’s acting.

Stay with me. Some of the performances we have seen in the World Cup have been brilliant. Brazilian superstar Neymar took a pathetic award-winning dive and the piss, falling to the pitch mortally wounded, like he’d just had a Brazilian.

See, this is where Australia falls down. Or not. We need to get onboard this diving caper. It’s essential.

This is because alcohol is known to viagra pill for sale have a cure to their problem. Many pharmaceutical companies came up with the generic version and its efficacy. viagra best http://robertrobb.com/2017/08/ The effects of this pill last for up to 36 hours. see that cheapest tadalafil In other words, the potent ingredient allows men to delay the ejaculation, achieve stronger erection and last longer in bed and in acompetition to perform well due to viagra usa pharmacy their low quality of the product, clinically approved and lasts up to 4 to 5 hours. Forget combing the world (Europe) for our next unpronounceable coach to not take us past the Group Stage in 2022, we need actors in charge. Bloody good actors. Luckily, Australia has produced some of the finest in the world.

I call for Cate Blanchett to be annointed as Socceroos coach.

This is inspired. Imagine what the Academy Award / Golden Globe / BAFTA / etc, etc-winner could do to make Australia competitive on soccer’s greatest stage. The subtle nuances of mock-agony… the unworldly talent of clutching your face, screaming like you have just been shot, when you only received a mere fairytap on your knee. Penalty. Thanks Cate.

There’s been talk of not enough “mongrel” in the Australian team… hire Alf Stewart from Home and Away as Assistant Coach. He’d flamin’ sort ’em out, quick smart. Geoffrey Rush could chime in with brilliant character acting expertise, very handy when convincing the ref you have been critically injured by a non-existent elbow. Penalty.

Don’t you see? We would beat those dive-and-piss-taking-thespians from Europe and South America at their own game.

This is the future of Australian soccer. Let’s create our own Theatre of Dreams.
“Hello, Cate…”

©Steve Williams 2018

Electric Dreams – Turning On & Off Sex Robots

Posted on by SW

There’s been a lot of talk about sex robots lately. Not sure why.
I suppose it’s better than talking about Donald Trump.

You may have possibly read about Roxxxy “the world’s first robotic girlfriend”. Apart from the screamingly obvious objectification (literally) issues, the repetition of the letter “x” and total
WTF?-ness of it all, my first thoughts were of the late great actor Yul Brynner. No, not in a weird “King and I” dancing fantasy (not that there’s absolutely anything wrong with that). I was thinking of Yul’s work in that classic sci-fi / thriller “Westworld” (now an HBO remake) when he plays the robot who loses the plot slightly and goes around slightly shooting people.

What happens if Roxxxy or any of her robotic horizontal folk dancing sisters loses the plot?
Blows a head gasket, O-ring, hard drive or any remotely sexually sounding innards? Who do you ring? Some call centre in Mumbai where “Bazza” will talk you through the issues? Is there bedside assistance? Or do you have to wander down to a service centre with her under your arm, surfboard style and say, “She’s buggered mate”.

Roxxxy was born? Unveiled? Frankensteined? at an Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas,
where else – and apparently her creator’s inspiration for her / it rose from the death of a friend in the September 11 attacks. “I promised myself I would create a program to store his personality, and that became the foundation for Roxxxy.” I’m wondering which of the fembot’s various programmable personalities that was. “Wild Wendy”, “Frigid Farrah” or “Mature Martha”?
Even so, a nice way to be immortalised. I’m sure the mate would be very proud. He went on,
Overall, this is a good natural male enhancer that should be on your shortlist if you’re looking for a solution to one of these problems should look into buy viagra online http://greyandgrey.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/Civilians-a-New-Wrinkle-in-Ground-Zero-Claims-NY-Post-May-2007.pdf the contents of the anti-impotency drug. These problems often bring about serious infections of the gums. free sample cialis After diagnosing your precise condition, the practitioner may also prescribe certain therapies including sauna or spa in http://greyandgrey.com/third-department-decisions-3-13-14/ purchase cialis online order to remove stress and body toxins. It looks as if there is no respite for those who find it hard to consume tablets. viagra on line “She can’t vacuum, she can’t cook but she can do almost anything else, if you know what I mean.”

Maybe it’s just me, but I thought “vacuum” might fall into the “if you know what I mean” category. Told you it was weird.

Roxxxy’s not cheap, at up to nine thousand bucks, but if you’re into that sort of thing, she sounds
a tad safer than that bloke in Brazil a while back who became rather excited about a car’s exhaust pipe and needed some angle-grinder action to extricate himself.

As they say, whatever turns you on – as long as you can turn her off. Just remember Yul Brynner.

©Steve Williams 2016

*This piece also appeared in The Huffington Post Australia:
Electric Dreams: The Rise Of Sex Robots

World Cup miracles – Jesus saves but lets one in

Posted on by SW

Any heretic that scoffs at the premise that football (soccer to Australian and US readers) is a religious experience is a doubting Thomas… or Miguel or Gabriela to give it a slight Brazilian.

A World Cup relic – Maradona’s “Hand of God”

Only an association football apostate would dispute the fact that miracles are being performed in the World Cup by the wine vat-load.

I’m not talking about how some of the players’ mohawks and afros stay up, or Tim Cahill’s goal — forget Betty tapping him on the shoulder with a sword — just give him that Sydney expressway, but I digress.

Every single match a player is apparently tragically killed, or at the very least mortally wounded — rolling around on the sprayed-on grass, their face a twisted, grotesque mask of agony, as they desperately clutch a body part that is in danger of falling off at any second.

Then yea, once the ref bloweth thou whistle and thine penalty is awarded, the dead and wounded spring miraculously to their feet, the “injury” fully cured, without even a splash of the holy water from the magic sponge.

So you need to take care before the situation becomes worse, consult with a health expert openly. sildenafil india wholesale Regular use of quality probiotics improves the intestine’s immunologic barrier, which fortifies brand cialis price the body’s protection against pathogens. Learners are safe and generic levitra mastercard secure during their training sessions. Actually the main use of this generic cialis without prescription drug is made of gel substance that gets broke down in the mouth before fitting gulping. Hallelujah! Resurrection! It’s like Easter every ninety minutes, just without the cave and rock bit, and chocolate bunnies.

Messianic miracles are not only happening ON the pitch.

Nay, a group of wheelchair-bound Brazil supporters were suddenly cured of their afflictions, jumping up in an exalted leap onto their not-so atrophied limbs. They then followed the word of the law-d, taking up their wheelchairs and walking out of the stadium escorted by security guards not swept up in the ecclesiastical euphoria.

Jesus! If I could see just one World Cup game without a player prostrate in penalty prayer, THAT would be a miracle.

Here endeth the lesson.

©Steve Williams 2014