Football Fans

At the beginning of the European Football Championship my feelings were ambivalent: I don't really care about football that much, but I don't outright hate it.Now I do, especially it's fans, and most especially it's fans from the southern part of Europe, who should be all rounded up and locked into deep dungeons without balls.

Why? Let me explain: For some reason fans from Italy, Spain and Turkey find it absolutely necessary to share their joy about their national team winning a match by driving around in their cars until two o'clock in the morning, whilst reassuring themselves about the continuing operation of their horn, by, well, operating it. This leads to my continuing state of irritation. And aggression. Indeed, I found myself rooting for the German team of all things, a nearly unthinkable act of treason for an Austrian, just because the Germans leave their bloody cars at home when celebrating.

I also don't understand why the Swiss police, who sent me a fine for going 4 km/h over the posted speed limit (50), wouldn't arrest and execute all those blithering, noisy idiots so I could catch some sleep. If I ever happen to be in the same country as some major football championship, I will build some kind of contraption capable of producing a focussed electromagnetic pulse and proceed to fry any and all honking cars in the vicinity, while cackling madly. I am serious about this, I have already started to practice cackling.