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Munich marinates in manliness!

On the wall in the coffee room at work.

Now, I don't follow soccer. But apparently there's this huge tournament going on, and every male in Germany (except me) is getting drunk and watching it on TV. If one's national team wins, one puts one's national flag on one's car, decides who is the least drunk, and then gets him to drive around blowing the horn while one hangs out the window shouting at attractive women. 

Fake British car reveals true German roots. 

Perfectly understandable behaviour, since scientific experiments have shown that a guy's testosterone level rises by over a quarter if his team wins.  
This applies only to UEFA Cup games on television, since the real thing is played in Switzerland.  Testosterone drops by at least two-thirds the moment any male crosses the Swiss border.  I mean, look at the facts.  The Swiss Army is the only military force on the planet whose principal weapon of combat contains a corkscrew. 

Germany has reached the semi-finals.  To do so, they had to win at least two games.  That means every German male is now a man and a half.   

My office is full of young male soccer fans.  On Friday, after Germany beat those nancy-boy Portugese 3-2, you could just about smell the pheremones.  The lads attacked their Excel spreadsheets with vigor. PowerPoint presentations seemed punchier.  Malfunctioning printers earned extra-foul curses.  Consumption of herbal tea ground to a halt. 

With our new butch Zeitgeist, all is not beer and skittles.  

As my chum Zurika reminds us, the annual Munich Nudist Isar-River Bike Ride (Viva Bavarica nudensis!) happens this weekend, too.  It's a big event, and very popular; I even heard it announced on the good-old Hits-and-Memories Radio Arabella, that's how mainstream it is. 

Uh oh.  What if the 'roided-up guys meet the naked cyclists?  Will they be able to restrain themselves?   And what about all the male nude cycling soccer fans?  After all, you can't ride around blowing your horn on a bicycle.  Unless you're very gifted.  

If I were a naked woman on a bicycle, I'd be hiding in a nunnery this weekend.  (Calm down, gentlemen.)

My suggestion to all male soccer fans about to climb into the car for a bit of horn-heavy celebrating, is masturbate first.  As my mother used to say, use the bathroom before you go.

This entirely-safe-for-work news item covers last year's naked bike ride.  It's in German, so I don't quite catch all that is said.  It sounds like everyone is just talking about how great it is to enjoy a gorgeous summer day in complete freedom.  Except for the guy half-way through, who says he's a nudist on environmental grounds.  He only has three shirts.  Think of how many chemicals he keeps out of the environment, not having to wash all those clothes!  I'd give him a medal, but I wouldn't know where to pin it. 

Of course, the news team scraped up some wowsers to tut-tut all this nakedness.  But most Müncheners accept the whole thing with a chuckle and a shrug of the shoulders.  I want to see the news report when the nudists submit that petition to the Bundestag, naked. 

Germany plays Turkey on Wednesday in the semi-final.  Looks like we're in for a spermy week. 
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