TomBlog - slowly deflating balloons

Bizarre wiggling ladies dance their merry latino shimmy through thick layers of make-up, dressed in freakishly anatomy-revealing lycra bikinis. Their dignity protected by the thinnest film of brazil's green and yellow colours. Beside them tanned middle-aged moustachioed men bleat on incomprehensibly, as we stare into the abyss of mexican cable football coverage, following our crushing defeat at the hands of the thoroughly mediocre Portugal. Everyone is forced to smile and boogie on this channel though it's preferable to ESPN's "we're not really sure what the rules are" coverage. England's tawdry display is now in stark contrast to the acid-infused colouring of mexican cable. Ouch.
We're parked outside a huge shed in cleveland. Parked sufficiently far away from each of the massive bridges, that weave over us, so the despicable satellite coverage can reach. I wish we had English pundits rolling their thumbs and comiserating with the nation. No such luck, there's a brazilian samba party we're all invited to. We've got a gig in about 3 hours, my spirits may falter. Now Will Smith is giving the performance of his life lifting weights to the beat of superstition. From Blackie's body language I can tell he's seen this movie and it's not good. My... things are looking up.