HEARRRRRRRTBREAK!
Ok, not so bad. I was pissed more than anything. I acquired a meanass headache... and somehow injured my left ankle... ??
Too much screaming, too much jumping, I suppose.
All in all, I'm proud of my little guys... except that dumbass Osorio. When all the young guns were sharp, alert, and speedy, he was aloof... and cost us some plays, not to mention that fucking goal.
Ok, no talk of the goals, 'cause I get upset (except when we talk about the third goal, Tevez's REAL goal. Now THAT was masterfully done... a thing of beauty).
Anyway, I'm glad to be Mexican. We find a reason to party over anything.
This time it was a "We're alright... FUCK 'EM UP, GERMANY!!" party.
Of course, everyone gets drunk, the heartbreak returns, and then we start sharing current heartbreak problems over some Vicente Fernandez jams. Next thing you know, I'm tearing up, sharing certain text messages I saved on my phone, and asking people "What is SO wrong with me?!"
...not that I really did that...
I mean, it's just hypothetical....
because I never get drunk... and I never cry.
I'm glad this is all in the past.
I have to go ice my injury now, messed-up ankles are no joke.
("Hot-blooded": for when you refuse to be called "stupid")
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