Ladies and gentlemen, my forearm.
OK. Yes, I am over 1,000 miles from the nearest Rugby World Cup game. But if you’re in Australia, you just can’t avoid it. So why not get a nice airbrushed “tattoo” and enjoy it? I chose Welsh Rugby Union, because they were the underdogs, and hell, I did live there. One less subtle gentleman who went before me chose FUCK ENGLAND, large enough to go almost ¾ of the way around his neck. (As he was all in green, I assume he was frustrated from Ireland’s loss to France earlier in the day.)
The whole World Cup thing is really a bit of a pain if you’re looking for accomodation in the city and haven’t planned ahead, but otherwise it’s good fun. The place is packed with people who’ve flown down just for that purpose — one guy I met flew 25 hours and didn’t even have tickets!
Anyway, it’s a fun time to be in the host country when it has such an international flavor.