No football today? What, none at all? Not even a little bit?
Someone could have warned us. It would have been polite, at least, to let us know that there would in this World Cup actually be actual days without actual football. So far on our silly quest, the World Cup matches themselves have been a kind of comforting ambient background hum, lulling us gently into forgetting the weirdness of spending every spare moment etching the features of Mix Diskerud (or whomever) onto a tiny bit of paper. But that safety blanket has now been cruelly snatched away, leaving us staring at each other in front of Masterchef, suddenly questioning the wisdom (?) of our undertaking.
Mind you, it’s a bit late for that degree of navel-gazing. Time for bad drawings!
Yeah, so these are pretty terrible. Somehow I managed to make the unassuming Memphis Depay look a little bit like Mesut Özil. That’s quite weird, but to my sleep-deprived brain undeniably true. Oribe Peralta looks like he’s been captured by the Evil Empire and frozen in carbonite. Jabba will be thrilled. And oh my, what is going on with Diego Benaglio’s neck? The bulges make me queasy. Quite rightly, Nicholas Nkoulou’s face is a mask of repugnance.
I love Xabi Alonso and his rough-hewn, occasionally brainless brand of playmaking, so I wanted a nice picture of him. What transpired is obviously a disaster, his giraffe’s neck snaking up to an artless smudge of awfulness masquerading as a face. Sorry Xabi. I’m much more pleased with Sian’s stab at Fred, who’s oafish clumsiness is brought to life very nicely by his dopey, can’t-quite-believe-he-plays-for-Brazil grin. Good for you, Fred!
Ah, I think that’s enough for today. Time for bed, but please do check back tomorrow!
314 STICKERS DOWN.
326* STICKERS TO GO.
Alex & Sian
*Yeah, we didn’t realise there was a sticker numbered ’00’, meaning there’s 640 in total, not 639. Lucky us…