Addendum To: Addendum To: Why Don't I Ever Anti-Pick Myself?

You couldn't hold on, could you, Costa Rica?  I don't know how in the hell that guy slowly kicked that ball into the corner like an 11-year girl rolled a bowling ball down the alley for a strike, but that's all I needed to win $100 and get out of this personal hellhole.

But first that guy had to pick up his second yellow card so you had to play with ten men.  And then the goalie couldn't handle the attempt off the corner, and so Greece banged in the rebound, and it was tied after 91 minutes, and my $25 two-leg parlay with you and Colombia went into the shitter.  I just turned around and ate the rest of my soups (two even though I ordered one because the wrong one was sent out to me and to make it up the guys at the Local gave me that one and got me the right one) because the game meant nothing to me anymore.

You guys could have saved me, but you couldn't.  You'll probably lose to the Dutch.  Vaya con Dios.

Now I have to have Brazil to win the whole damn thing or else I lose everything, all $300.

Don't ever start gambling.  It's a paved road to perdition.

WHY DO YOU HATE ME, GOD, WHY?!?!?!