Recently in Europa Category

Today marked the arrival of DJ-P, J's friend extraordinaire from Germany. We were all psyched enough to forget about our Disney induced exhaustion. Playa Pimp came over before zee arrival to chill with some vino.

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Playa Pimp, keeping his pimp hand strong.

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Mama and a very excited Macon Bacon.

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The mystery of the cleaning J unfolded before our very eyes!

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"Um... I'm cleaning... why do you have the camera?!"

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Ol' Dad's magical torn ligament.

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Two babies and an infant.

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Playa Pimp jams on the Kidtar ;)

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It turns out that Macon Bacon is a Chip fan ;)

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Ol' Dad and a positively freaked out Macon Bacon :)

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Leo... it's what's for dinner!

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A fresh-off-the-plane DJ-P and J discuss the dreariness of the Newark airport.

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DJ-P and Ol' Dad collaborate on their upcoming album, Lots of Junk in a Box.

Sayonara Sunset

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It was D's last sunset in Austin. She yawned. So did we.

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Kölscher Shock

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Ever since arriving in Austin, J has yearned for Köln area beer called Kölsch. Ol' Dad sampled Kölsch while he was in Germany for two weeks and fell in love. So when J's friend D came to visit and just happened to bring a few bottles of Kölsch, flags were raised, goats were slaughtered and the Tree house rejoiced.

Before diving head first into the Best Thing Ever, the crew made a pit stop at Texas Chili Parlor.

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You could hear D's tongue frying!

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The universal sign for "OMFG! That's H-O-T!"

After suitably torturing the newbie, it was back to Tree House for the real deal... Kölsch!

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It knows what you crave.

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Ol' Dad was flanked by Kölner coolness.

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J, Mama and D shared a moment of beer induced bliss.

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Babycakes did what she does best ;)

T Minus Fünf

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Doreen, our first visitor from Germany will arrive in five days!

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We have received written notification from J that the pain of Germany's loss to Spain has faded. Thus, the Crew will return to its traditionally sporadic post schedule...

Needless to say, the loss came as a surprise to a lot of folks, particularly those living in a certain large and economically powerful continental European country. Although we here at the Tree House were quite depressed on The Worst Day Ever, as J has started referring to it, we somehow managed to plow through the darkness and emerge on the other side.

Obviously, there were quite a few, um... beverages involved ;)

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Before the match, J prepared the ceremonial Deutschland football attire ;)

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Babycakes was similarly equipped.

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The original deal was that the loser would eat the cake of the winning country. Yeah... that worked out well ;)

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Ol' Dad and the Tree House ladies got pimped out by the good folks at Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.

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Initially, Playa Pimp got ready for war...

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... but then he decided he was a drinker, not a fighter ;)

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Ol' Dad had similar ambitions before he was snapped back to reality by J's Über-Deutscher-Kung-Fu-Death-Grip!

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Proof that violence does affect children... in a good way! ;)

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J and Babycakes plan their attack.

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The staples of any football party.

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Child rearing... the Tree House way.

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We almost lost Playa Pimp to spontaneous combustion.

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We don't have that many pictures of the game but Enrique Iglesias performed a great pre-match show... until Schweinsteiger sent him to the floor with a double kick to the groin.

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Post-Spanish-victory J.

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Umm... ditto ;)

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After carefully following all the post-match loss rules, J started to feel a bit better ;)

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As a matter of fact, some of the Crew got downright giggly ;)

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Despite the light atmosphere, J was quick to shut down any pro-Spanish sentiments ;)

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T was so excited she busted out some traditional Spanish gang symbols. She used J-Box as a prop, however, so as to avoid getting shot ;)

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A contemplative J-Box listening to the Miyagi within.

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"Whose house? Run's house!"

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Meanwhile, thirteen approaches quickly over Wild Basin.

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A suitable summary of the day's events.
No words can express the misery and loss that we are experiencing. To hell with pictures. This blog will remain silent for 24 hours as a tribute to the German National Team.
The last few days have been pretty exciting... The German National Team defeated Turkey and won a spot in the Euro 2008 final match, J mastered the fine European art of gluing gold stars to a t-shirt and Mama actually remembered where she parked the car.

This post is a little late so I'm not my usually annoying verbose self. We're currently preparing for the final match against Spain and this is as good as it gets ;)

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Quick! Grab somethin'!

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J's favorite food.

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A well stocked Tree House fridge ;)

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That's how Mama rolls.

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One of the many talented things that Mama can do with her hands.

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Umm... no.

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Better... warmer...

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Babycakes joined the fray and decided to whip up a Mickey Mouse pretzel!

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Success!

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Two lovely ladies pat out tasty treats for the Crew.

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Playa Pimp cultivated the universal I'm-A-New-Dad look.

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J had the quizzical look of a European in the middle of a metric conversion.

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A quiet moment... brought to you by Playa Pimp Industries.

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Playa Pimp prepared to receive the Conscientious-Father-of-the-Year Award ;)

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An excited crowd.

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Ayhan wished he could buy the world a Coke and sing a song in perfect harmony.

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Schweinsteiger wished he could beat the Turks all the way back to Istanbul!

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Jogi just wished the Turkish guy would get out of his ear.

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Hot Turkish girl with a huge freakin' star on her face.

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The krankenhaus team descended on an injured player.

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Iodine?! No!!!

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Staples, yo.

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After the staples, the Turkish player felt worse than when the doctor started.

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Symbolic irony.

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The freaky guy from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom was a Turkey fan.

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Playa Pimp spoke with his eyes.

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J snagged the perfect art shot!

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Babycakes looked surprised at J's outlandish behavior ;)

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Don't worry, dude... It's still there.

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Sweatin' to the oldies...

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Oh yeah... THAT'S why we're for Germany ;)

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After the win, the Ecstasy took hold!

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... along with the reincarnation of Thurston Howell, III ;)

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The scene in Turkey after the loss...

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Ol' Dad did what he does best.

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Mama did too.

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Playa Pimp.

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Hydration is the key!

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Lovebirds.

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Shady and the Baby... a new television series starting this fall on ABC!

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The crew from Playa Pimp's laptop.

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The aftermath.
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In a perfect world, I wouldn't have to say anything else. But since the majority of the United States sincerely believes that American Idol is a sport worthy of ESPN coverage, I suppose more details are required ;)

The German National Team won their quarterfinal match against Portugal on Friday! Needless to say, the Crew celebrated intensely over the weekend... so much so that J checked into the hospital for mild to moderate hysteria. You'll be glad to know she's doing much now that the pink bats and thorny turtles have left her alone.

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Two men enter... one man leaves!

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"No, really... I get the feeling something is hanging over my head!"

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"Let's see... how does this go again? Left over right, then under, then..."

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No, seriously... why aren't we for Portugal?!

Germany didn't waste any time scoring a goal against the team all the talking heads favored to win. Around the 20 minute mark, Schweinsteiger slid one past Portugal old-school style!

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Schweinsteiger dropped it like a toilet seat!

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Pleased with the goal but without anyone to beat the hell out of, Schweinsteiger punched himself in the face repeatedly. Luckily, he's used to being pummeled so his performance was not affected.

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"WHO'S YOUR DADDY?!?!? No, really... is he here? No? Can I have your number? Do you like techno?"

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Klose nailed another goal while Ronaldo tried desperately to get a better view.

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The Portugese fans were less than thrilled... especially the Italians who disguised themselves and pretended to be from Portugal to get into the game.

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A desperate art shot from J.

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Klose had an out-of-body experience following an injury. Viewing the scene from above, he wondered why the referee was checking his watch. He tried to explain that he was really injured but spirits don't have lips. Disgruntled, he returned to fleshy form and directed his aggression toward the Portugese.

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Upset over the near loss of his teammate, Ballack kicked it up a notch.

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J jumped up for an art shot but just couldn't make it in time. In the process, she tripped over 3.5 liters of Warsteiner just in front of her (for decorative purposes only, of course) and twisted her ankle. She is recovering nicely and is already putting together better logistics for next week's match.

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The referee, on the other hand, saw everything and now harbors a secret passion that must never be told.
 
7.jpgBallack SMASH!!!

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Upset with Germany's invincible defense, Ronaldo gave the universal sign for "OMFG!!! I need a drink!!!"

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The Portugese coach seemed a bit, um... depressed ;)

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"Lady, listen to me... if you say we are going to lose one more time, I will throw you off the balcony. Do you understand me?!" His wingman shot the woman a distinct he's-totally-serious-yo stare and muttered an indecipherable Steven Seagal quote.

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"All day, baby... all day!"

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The German lead helped Hans and Dieter emerge from a deep depression over not having enough face paint. "Do not worry, Hans... they think it means 'GER!' like a victory cry!"

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Schweinsteiger made a mental note of fans that weren't cheering so he could beat them up later.

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"You know guys... the banner was an awesome idea but maybe we should have hung it up after the game was over so we could actually see what's going on."

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In an effort to conserve energy, Lahm grabbed Simão's jersey for a free ride down the field.

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Mertesacker tried desperately to keep the ball out of the goal using the mighty power of his lungs!

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Lehmann took a hit in the second half and decided to use the time to calculate how many parties he would have time to attend after they won.

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"A little higher please... higher... just kiddin'! I'm fine."

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J took advantage of an injured Lehmann to snag a proper art shot.

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Planning to avenge Lehmann, Schweinsteiger picks a Portugese fan to assault.

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The Portugese were quite disappointed and looked to the Earth for consolation.

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A humiliated Portugese fan hid his puppet in shame.

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Ronaldo considered plastic surgery.

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The Germans were ecstatic... especially after a few hits of Ecstasy.

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Originally intending to congratulate the Portugese on a good match, Ballack decided to just be himself and shouted, "Dude... we totally kicked your ass!"

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Schweinsteiger dreamed of the riots he could join later in Underground Berlin.

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Mama was completely surprised to hear the news of Germany's victory!

Now it's on to the Wednesday semifinal with Turkey!
Well, folks... the German National Team kicked the living hell out of Austria today, ensuring their spot in the Euro '08 quarter-finals! They move on to face Portugal on Thursday.

Before the match, fans were restless. J spent several hours pacing in front of the screen with a liter of Dr. Pepper and a salmon hoagie waiting for the live satellite feed. Others spent the time more ambitiously.

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C'mon, guys, break it up. Vatertag was yesterday.

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It's hard to tell if they're cheering for the team or the astonishingly massive flat screen television ;)

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Although deeply committed to one another and having already sprung the 400 Euros for matching tribal tattoos, the couple somehow knew their relationship was forever doomed ;)

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The man-with-the-greatest-job-ever suddenly exclaimed, "Damn! I used the wrong shade of green. I'm going to have to wipe all this stuff off and start over. You might want to sit down. We're going to be here a while..."

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Jogi and his real estate agent tried to concentrate on the German National Anthem but they were too busy watching the girls get painted in the booth just beside the team bench.

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No one had the heart to tell her it meant "French Fries."

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The Crazy German Chick Association was out in force, patrolling the streets and back alleys of Austria looking for Non-Schlanders to beat utterly senseless.

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Maybe thirteen isn't so bad after all...

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Dr. Meuss and his brother Dr. Kleuss, evil doppelgängers of Dr. Seuss, were convinced that the Germans would win. They will win it in the rain, they will win it on a train. They will win it in Spain and on vacation in Bahrain. They will win it, don't you see, they will win it handily!

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Sylvester Stallone, still jazzed from all three positive reviews of his come-out-of-retirement comeback movies Rocky Balboa and Rambo: Old Blood, was thrilled to be part of the Austrian National Team. After six months of facial reconstructive surgery, however, the best he could manage was, "Yo, Adrian!"

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"It was the heat of the moment, telling me what your heart meant. Heat of the moment shone in your eyes!"

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Seven Nation Army and Pixie-Sprout® prepare for glory!

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J bet ten Euros that Podolski's forehead was harder than the other guy's nose. She lost ;)

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The Austrian coach - a symbol of pride, professionalism and lechery around the globe.

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The Austrian team physician was later discovered to be a cardboard standup figure. Apparently, the Austrians couldn't afford a real physician after paying the Euro2008.com advertising fee.

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After being ejected from the game because of his gangsta ways, a distressed and befuddled Jogi sits with Schweinsteiger and Johan, the Underground Berlin Rave Coordinator.

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J desperately tried to snatch an art shot but just couldn't hit the button in time.

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The referee was taken completely by surprise when Ballack was beamed to the locker room Star Trek style.

After the half-time break and two liters of beer, the Germans seemed speedier! Something big was about to happen and we weren't going to miss it!

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Schland-speed!

After a bit of toying with the AustriansBallack summoned forth a righteous schisa-kick from the depths of his unconscious. The result was glorious and will most likely be talked about in the quiet hallways of major universities for years to come.

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There's rage and shame in those eyes. It's okay, Mikey, the turtle doesn't hurt anymore. He's in heaven now.

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Frings had no choice but to stand back and watch the mysteries of the human psyche unfold around him.

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Even the Austrians were amazed at the big beautiful butterfly of psychological carnage that flew past. And they invented the dungeon, so you know they're not that easily impressed!

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Rave on!

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Swept up in the moment, Schweinsteiger and Jogi decided to beat the bejeezus out of one another. Johan tried to restore order with his impish little man-self, failing utterly and staining his suit in the process.

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"Um... actually, Chancellor, I'm a bit busy later this evening. Another time, perhaps?"

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Ballack's vicious goal frustrated and humiliated the Austrians, who had no alternative but to keep chewing tobacco and looking ridiculous.

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Some Austrian players, however, had a different reaction funneled their rage in a more emotional fashion.

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The Austrian fans were understandably disappointed. It's a good thing the kid in the top left corner decided to bring his stash of match-day cocaine just in case...

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At that point, the Austrian coach simply gave up and started planning his Rogaine treatment plan.

Mid-way through the second half, even the most ardent Austrian fans were ready to concede defeat. But, seriously, it's not like their team sucked. Umm... well, okay, they sucked ;)

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My advice is to go home, shower and try not to think about the 68 Euros you spent on face paint.

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J, revived and showing increasing signs of life, made yet another desperate attempt to snag an art shot.

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J's desperation led to a few shots she'd rather forget ;)

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Happy, excited soccer fans are sweaty, stinky soccer fans. But, honestly, would you want to be the one to ruin his Shland-high by telling him he smells like a Yak?

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Still, J swears that a sweaty Ballack is an awesome Ballack ;)

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And there it was. In the middle of J's euphoria, it came. It finally came! A proper art shot!

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"You call that a kick, petite little Austrian girly-boy? My oma hits harder than that!"

When the clock ran out, Germany emerged victorious. Fireworks lit up the night sky. Riots began. Goats were sacrificed. If only we could have been there for the celebration!

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Pound for pound, Europa Ecstasy is the most highly concentrated form of MDMA on the planet.

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After the loss, a lone Austrian fan pondered his life in the grand scheme of things. Buck up, little camper! There's always law school...

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In Underground Berlin, happy fans huddled underneath the approaching German mothership.

Suddenly, the screen went dark and cold. There was a brief interlude to get us up to speed with a game-that-didn't-matter. It turned out that Croatia had just stomped on Poland 1:0. 

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At the start of the match against Croatia, the Polish cheerleading squad was surprised to learn that balls for the game were supplied by UEFA. Afterwards, they had a little trouble getting the one they brought off the field.

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Those poor Polish kids were still waiting for the van that was supposed to pick them up eight days ago. It may turn out to be a good thing, though, since the BBC is rumored to have offered them a three year contract for a concept television show called Poles in Da House.

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Meanwhile, back at the game-that-really-mattered, Ballack continued to celebrate the victory.

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Lahm, on the other hand, lost control of his bodily functions laughing at the Polish and their 150 pound soccer ball statue. C'mon, man... it's the thought that counts ;)

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All was not perfect in the perfect in the German universe, however... Hungry Hansel, the most ruthless serial killer in continental history, was quietly stalking his next victim - a retired Turkish kabob cart dealer on vacation from Redondo Beach, California.

And that, so to speak, was that! Germany is in the quarter-finals!
Maybe it was bad juju from the upcoming Friday the 13th holiday, but the German National Team couldn't pull off a victory against Croatia. The throaty Croats snatched a 2:1 victory from the almost comatose Germans.

The team has been dealing with the grief in their own ways. J bought an AK-47 from a Russian gypsy at the Farmer's Market and started randomly shooting birds. Mama and Babycakes have been stomping on scorpions with a level of joy unseen since the days chocolate milk was plentiful in our refrigerator.

How is Ol' Dad dealing with the loss you ask? Well, I've been doing what I usually do in such circumstances... writing spoken word pieces and submitting them for publication in the Index Librorum Prohibitorum, staring into a freshly emptied wine glass and smacking Mama in places I'm not supposed to blog about ;)

It will just take time...

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A ball in the rough.

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The Germans arrived in good spirits, still toting the Polish kids who apparently had no ride home.

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The Croatian coach greeted the crowd with typical Croat charm.

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In what first appeared to be a lucky break for the Germans, Croatian players spontaneously combusted at seemingly random intervals.

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Up in smoke seemed to be the Croatian motto...

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The tide quickly turned, however, as Lehmann decided to practice for his upcoming mime skills test in Bangladesh. As a result, the Croatians scored the initial goal.

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The Croatians were ecstatic at their good fortune, so much so that they forgot they weren't wearing underwear. The poor lady in this photo suffered retinal damage from her inadvertent glance down south.

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The Croatian coach had a difficult time recovering from his post-goal wedgie.

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"Yup... you're right. That ball is definitely moving away from us!"

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The second Croatian goal, otherwise known as the Harbinger of Death and Destruction.

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Ballack, mistakenly believing he was Irish for a moment, whipped down a Guinness after the Croation goal and shouted, "Croatia... me bollocks!"

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Kurányi, disgusted with the lackluster participation level of his teammates, played pocket soccer on the sidelines until being ushered into to the game by Jogi.

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Increasingly infuriated by the match, J consoled herself with an art shot.

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Schweinsteiger exercised the restraint and sound judgment for which he is famous by pummeling one of the Croatian players. His good intentions were rewarded with a one match suspension.

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Croatians love a good hit of Ecstasy.

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The Germans, on the other hand, walked serenely from the field, safe in the knowledge that Jogi would be kicking their ass on a routine basis over the weekend.

After the crushing defeat, we headed upstairs for an evening with T and J-Box. J couldn't quite shake it off though, and preferred to drown her sorrows with chocolate milk and a pint of Häagen-Dazs.

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And then depression set in...

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C shared in J's despondency ;)

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The sunset that evening made up for the crappy day... sorta.

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T and J-Box debated the merits of offsides while putting away some happy juice.
Although the first half of the weekend was marred by illness, the Crew managed to pull together a fairly righteous Sunday. The German National Team played Poland in the Euro '08 tournament and we had magically acquired about 10 liters of Warsteiner happy juice.

We did what any sensible Austinite would do under the circumstances... we drank beer, ate sausage, potato salad and tried our best to understand just what the hell offsides is all about...

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We love logos... especially ones with green hippie dots and shadowy figures kickin' balls.

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J got the party started by tonging a wiener.

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The Polish National Team brought their children.

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The German National Team was nice enough to entertain the rest of the Polish National Team's kids!

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DJ-Hey calmed himself before the carnage.

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Meanwhile, the Crew relaxed in their traditional fashion.

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Our handy-dandy Optoma HD80 cranked out glorious HD on the 106 inch Da-Lite screen.

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The zoom lens transported us right onto the field... just in time for J to get one of her famous art shots.

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Pole did his best to neutralize Michael Ballack with a mighty Warsaw Pelvic Thrust.

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This seemingly gruesome moment had us worried until we found out he was faking it.

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Jogi used his mastery of the Force to move the Polish out of the way.

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Unfortunately for Jogi, this was all there was to see. Following this shocking image, the crowd was cleared from the stadium and given complimentary