MEXICO IS OUR BELGIUM

The Dutch language, as you know, is essentially the northern version of Netherlandish, while Flemish, spoken in Belgium, is the southern variant. It's more complicated than that, but less. So naturally I am ecstatic that the Belgians whupped Brasil in the World Cup yesterday, and happily cheer the elimination of those damned samba-drumming deviants, the destruction of Latin American hopes and dreams this time around, and the ignominious defeat, destruction even, of their offensive offense.

Columbia, which has done nothing, NOTHING!, noteworthy ever, especially since the beginning of the cocaine trade, also leaves Moscow whimpering like a bunch of girlie men. Thank you, frogs.

I actually don't have a horse in this race. The Dutch and Americans weren't in it, and with Mexico also out, I cannot be bothered.

Evenso. Go Belgium.

Huzzah!



Like the southern neighbor of the Netherlands, here in the United States we look on Mexico as a source of food, fun, and general all-round decency.
Hard workers, great tacos, and culturally superior to Texas.
Heck, everything is culturally superior to Texas.


What that makes Canada in this mental exercise I don't know, possibly the equivalent of either Croatia or England, but while chunks of rancid seal blubber undoubtedly resemble much of Balkan and British cooking, Poutine is actually quite edible, especially if you add Sriracha hot sauce, so the comparison doesn't really hold. Pico de gallo too.
They're decent countries, all three.


I am bothered by both the proximity and existence of Texas.
Smelly Christian mule humpers in trailer parks.
Married to their sisters.
Moo!

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