There's a lot of ways to show support for your team.
You can buy a jersey from your favorite team's player, fly a flag from your car, get a tattoo, praise their name in good times and bad, name your kid after them.
Or you could just wear skimpy clothes.
The last option is preferable—assuming you're a hot chick, of course. Otherwise, the other above things will suffice.
So let's go ahead and look at 25 women who supported the hell out of their team, I'm sure to victory.
Hey, we're all winners here.
There's something in the water in Brazil, and it makes all of their women super hot. And what's more, they know they're super hot and have no problem flaunting that hotness.
I'm convinced they only wear clothes because they have to. In other news, I'm going to Brazil.
I stared at this photo for about 20 minutes before I wrote anything. And then I realized something very important.
I know exactly what to tell my girlfriend what I want for my birthday. Chaps, baby, chaps. That would just be the tops.
I see a Kansas State shirt in the back; it must be her school. Why not, right?
Man, this is just so...classy.
What I want to know is, did she plan this, or did she really not feel the breeze?
That's probably some kind of ancient chinese proverb.
I can't quite tell what college she's supporting here while taking this hit from the beer bong. Her stupid arm is in the way.
Her technique's all wrong, too. You have to get lower, or you won't get all of the beer. I know it seems trivial, but if you add up all the beer wasted by doing this, that's a lot of beer.
Believe me, I've crunched the numbers.
School pride at its finest.
This outfit says, "I'm sexy, and I know it. But you won't find me passed out in the back seat of a car later."
Now that's my kind of lady.
Looking at this, I see now that I went to the wrong college.
Boy, did I ever.
I'd want those three years back—if I could remember them.
I just love this country. So. Much.
I cried a bit looking at this. And those tears turned into eagles. And they soared around a double cheeseburger and Budweiser...and those, too, turned into eagles.
And then, there was like, four eagles in my room. Keep in mind that each hamburger patty turned into an eagle.
I like breasts.
Only in this instance can I excuse the use of a vuvuzela—the single most annoying "instrument" ever constructed.
So let's go down the checklist. Got a beer? Check. Blowing on a long, phallic device? Check. Wearing as little as the law permits in public? Check. Fit, but not too fit? Check.
Yes, this passes the test.
Whenever I think of Miami, two things come to mind. That super terrible song by Will Smith, and the Heat just throwing away the title.
Both I want so desperately out of my head. But more so the first.
This picture might help.
Truly, the World Cup brought out the best in everyone.
It was like Halloween for a month. Chicks couldn't resist wearing as little as possible—some even were kicked out—and none were called sluts because it was perfectly acceptable given the occasion.
Why exactly does the World Cup only come around every four years, again?
I would totally defect to Sweden if it meant I could get with these chicks.
Hold up, there's a rather loud and angry knock on my door.
I was just kidding! Please, don't take me away! I knew my house was tapped!
Those shorts can't really get any lower, and I feel the ripped neck line adds a nice charm. Breasts need to breathe, too.
I can't stress this enough. Doctors stress this as well, just in case you were wondering. Spread the word.
This is a great picture, but it was clearly taken by a creeper, probably from a tree or through a crack in a fence or something.
And God bless him. What would the Internet be without his kind?
I'm betting that ratings would skyrocket if all major sports switched from their standard, crusty old man refs to these women.
And no call would be argued ever again. In fact, every call would be the greatest call ever. Plus, they'd be drunk. And so would I.
And that's what heaven is like, I'm sure.
I didn't notice what school she was a fan of at first—I was distracted, obviously; this Rubik's cube isn't going to solve itself—but upon further inspection, she likes Clemson, as you can see on her shoulder.
And I do, too. Until the next slide, anyway.
This is so skimpy, she may as well be wearing nothing.
Do you hear me? You may as well be wearing nothing!!
Also, I can see that the water's cold.
I hear it's cold in Green Bay. But that didn't stop these girls from risking hypothermia to support their team.
I'm not sure if this is sexy or just plain stupid. I guess it can be both.
Oh, she's just chillin', you know, waiting for me to walk by and ask her out...and I keep walking...and around the corner, then into a full sprint, probably crying.
So I'm a wuss. Shut up.
My sources say that "Viva Italia" means "Long Live Italy," but my sources can be kind of stupid, though, so don't quote me or anything.
By the way, my source is my brain.
I'll tell you what, though, long live this chick, man! Am I right? High fives and such.
I don't know if they actually made it to the game wearing this, but thank goodness we have the Internet.
Don't ask me why the gopher's there, because I'm not really sure. But last time I checked, a gopher's intentions are never pure.
Hurray for Portugal!
And that's really all that needs to be said.
What you're looking is a good ol' fashioned, American streaker. Well, almost. She has a couple small pieces of clothing to lose before she fits the definition.
In any case, I'm sure no one minded that she delayed the game. But what I want to know is: Did they taze her?
Apparently, Jenn Sterger, sports journalist and exceedingly hot chick, is seen here as a part of a club called the FSU Cowgirls.
And one time, during a game, exceedingly old man Brent Musburger was quoted as saying, "1,500 red-blooded Americans just decided to apply to Florida State" after catching sight of these hotties.
And Brett Favre's obsession then began. As did mine, but I don't have her number, so those pictures are just going to waste.
Provided the context, I'm sure there's a reason why her ass is eating her bikini bottom as she's passing out presents.
Maybe this is how Christmas works in Brazil, and if so, we really need to change how we do things here.
Gravity has failed us, my friends. If I had a nickel for every time I've said that.
How those breasts are staying in place is beyond my comprehension. Just an inch more, and...I just have to use all of my brain power...
Telekinesis has failed me, my friends.