Idiosyncrasies of unknown origin conjure against the possible football-culture binomial. It seems that in the modern western traveler cosmogony the world is divided in two groups separated by waterproof doors. On one side of this imaginary partition find place those brainless football lovers who eat meat, drink beer and listen to cheesy songs. Incapable of thinking to anything deeper than a corner kick, they sits just opposite from the liberal traveler who wear the kefiah, listens solely to ethnic music, eats tofu and has never served mess. And definitely doesn’t take any interes
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