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just back from a few days on dave b's loveboat moored off the tangiers. no sooner have i packed away my black rollneck , phalic walking stick and extra large trojans i discover
1. we lost to burton a 4th division side. with richard dunne and swp in the side,
2. harold has been offered/signed a 2 year deal
3.we are to sell danny simpson( just at a fkn loss to understand this)
4.ali has ANOTHER ACL ( i had to read the report 3 times and have a beer , i couldnt believe it, in fact i cant even think of it.at the moment)
5. niko fkn beau brummel this charming man dandy krancjr is coming back.
6.remy is fu7 ckin of to chelsea
the only good thing ive read is spong bob square pants traore is striding like a force of nature across london to palace to make his indomitable prescence felt there goodbye and fk off).
has the club cat been run over, perhaps tony f can piss in the four corners of the ground to exorcise this fecund stench from w12.
They are truly enemies! I remember when I was at the Lane... seems a thousand centuries ago. We went into the ground to support our team in bandit country
We left at half time after we suffered the shame of jordan mutch impersonating a 6 million pound footballer and this old man came running after us and he was crying. He couldn't see. We went back there, and they had given up, our players didnt give a shit...
There they were in a pile. A pile of little younis kabul step overs . And I remember... I... I... I cried, I wept like some grandmother. I wanted to tear my teeth out; I didn't know what I wanted to do! And I want to remember it. I never want to forget it... I never want to forget. And then I realized... like I was shot... like I was shot with a diamond... a diamond bullet right through my forehead. And I thought, my God... the genius of that! The genius! The will to do that! Perfect, genuine, complete, crystalline, pure madness of a manager playing richard dunne , rio ferdinand ,bobby zamoa and armand traore in the premiership 2014.
really looking forward to seeing rio ferdinand and richard dunne play together tomorrow!!
i think its an excellent idea to put both dunne and ferdinand in the back three. with the pace we have in the middle in joey barton, karl henry ,jordan mutch and ali faurlin , i for one, am sure we can cope with anything the best attacking midfielders and deadliest strikers in the cosmos and beyond can throw at us this coming season.
even if barry allen were to become availble, i wouldnt want him anywhere near this pacy bermuda triangle in our employ.
if the premiership is known for anything , it is known for its chronic lack of pace and im convinced that a back three where two of them are slower than eddie kidd on special k can only be an advantage. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- bollox.
watching dunne plod back for thier third goal was like watching pub drunk staggering against the chip shop wall on the way home looking for a mate to cadge a fiver off.
as for traore , about as intimidating as sponge bob square pants. never seen him as a premiership player in all his time at qpr , mavis reily could bend him to her will.not got the mental strength to be the man,end of.
for your letter to the evening standard in yesterdays edition.
"can you please assure this reader that neither your owner, editor or any of your staff are related to , or are romantically involved with , or being blackmailed by Cara devleingne"
We have a Park that backs on to our property and in the Children's play area one Sunday morning I found about 20 empty canisters under the climbing frame
All I could think of was how inconsiderate they were to not tidy up after themselves as I collected all the spent canisters/balloons together before putting them in the bin 10 feet away.
the mrs says i mannifest the look of a disgusted 1922 committe tory back bencher while doing so.
it was a look i pulled off perfectly in my suit in the late nineties when exiting the plastic strip curtains of various soho sex shops for 3 bottles of amyl nitrate on lunchtime jaunts .
turning round and effecting a "ive never been so disgusted in all my life" look on my kipper , before haughtily catching the central line back to bank and dreaming of prolonged aggressive orgasms while spangled on liquid gold/rave/reds.
in all seriousness i see these cannisters/ballons all over the place in east london/essex.
i was down brick lane on friday night and they were young professional twenty somethings all at it as well.
all looking like ali bongo making baloon animals on the paul daniels magic show.
Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!--An ecstasy of fumbling Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time, But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime.-- Dim through the misty panes and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
One Hundred Years Today. UNIMAGINABLE. RIP today of all days .
thoughts and prayers to all sides and the lost loved ones.
Really looking forward to this well respected showcase of world class athletics in the ampitheatre of dreams and human movement in and around Motherwell.
a cavalcade of excellence with sprinters from Bangledesh looking to hone their explosive power in preperation for their future duels with the Jamaicans. * news reaches me ,via telegram, that Their number one sprinter ran sandy from crossroads to distant second in just under 48.1113 sec in the 60 meter 'dash' recently .(*source 'the Poona Observer')
we have the powerlifters from kiribati exploring avant garde clean and jerk techqniques (some times lifting the weight of a charles hawtree) safe in the knowledge its only a matter of time when they topple the superheavy weights from the ukraine.
there is much conjecture and indeed excitement here in my office, that the 400 meter runner from brunei darussalam is targeting alf tuppers (brindlington-by-the-shithole, uk) record set in 1874 (* 16 min, 21.23 seconds), when he ran in boots made of exotic materials discoverd by dr livingstone on his expidetion of the zambezi lowlands and studs made of a borax compound .*(tiffin was taken at the 200 meter mark).
As if this isnt enough hot to trot colonial fun, we have born again anti christ and 47 year old fin haired jonathon edwards , iwen 'diablo' thomas and chief aufseherinnen claire balding , exploding into pleasures hither to unknown to the rest of the human race when a shot putter from sierra leone incases the shot put with dry ice , fertiliser and self tapping screws.
see you all at broadgate , central london, where we can catch it all , as it happens, on the newly erected big screen.
defo a threat by someone in the know at 52 seconds onwards...'barclay quartermaine' !!. sinister the way 'saville' touches his nose at the end to as if to say 'i know its a threat and ive just read it out on national tv, im untouchable '
Think its time for eric bristows elder brother to wander round the lush fields of rampton, in a straight jacket dancing ' harvey kitel style in bad lieutenant' with the ghost of puskas to 'picture box' if he thinks this is true.
6am: unleash bowel movement , purging yesterdays cocaine, lager and sweet meats. 6.30am: get up/shower/power wa nk ..thereby processing remaining toxins down the plug hole
6.45am: violent argument with wife
7 am: no time for breakfast , off to work!!
7.45 am: toilet, wa nk , capaucino 8am : work!! push papers around, stare at screen , tap pen on teeth, toilet, wa nk. 1oam :pretend to read 'lloyds list'
11am : 'strategy 'meeting with other 'non marine facualty specialists', , in reality alcoholics all shaking like the drunken bakers in 'viz'. item one, agenda one , priority one ..liase to meet in drakes wine bar or the english club 11.45am
11.40am: pick up folders and with the determined look of east german sprinter marlies goher, stride purposefully to the 'market' with durans 'hungry like the wolf' ringing in your head. eager for new business....
11.42am: simply decide against the exciting new buisness venture of going to see some cnt in his 'box' head straight for 'drakes' in leadenhall market.
11.45am. meet with other 'non marine facualty specialists' to discuss covering each others arses, if it all gets on top.
12.15pm: thoughts turn to cocaine and where we take our custom today. will it be 'wraps', 'bar bed' , the counting house, the elephant or the wine lodge.(descisions descisions!!
1pm: time to take the show on the road!!: press buzzer to gain entry into bar bed's gentlemens club upstairs behind reinforced fire door.
1.01pm: time to mingle!!. associate with 'colourful' collection of junkys, theives, bullys, cu nts,pimps, whores and reinsurance brokers.
4.30pm: leave establishment ripped to the tits and £2OO Lighter, but in possession of the life giving elexier that is the kibble. scurry' golem ' like to lloyds of london for an appointment with inaminate object 'the lutine bell'
4.45pm: 'rap' with bob the pristine yeoman at the entrance , of lloyds, cnted , like a long lost brother(making a mental note to ignore him the next day, if i survive the next 24 hours)
5pm: leave bob crying/scared and go to meet broker for my 2.30pm appointment
5.o2pm: wa nk in bogs, really unloading a pootle of gear in a prolonged orgasm due to being on the gear all afternoon.
5.11pm.... miss my 2.30pm appointment and express my apologies. my nans dying of 'testicular cancer 'or something
5:15pm ..'lunch ' more gear and more pints in leadenhall market. discuss exciting new opportunities within a growing market with other 'specialists'
5.45pm..return to office. pack up leave.may 'jimmy' open the petty cash box and point the finger at the african cleaners...after all 'my word is my bond'
5.55pm..in to the wine lodge , more cocaine, more pints, more disscussion on pornography 7pm..asked to leave by management, quick inventory reveals dangerously low stock levels of 'kibble' ie 1/2 a grm. reorder critical.i repeat reorder critical!!
8pm..leave the counting house restocked..phew!!!
8.15..in the cheshire cheese, reminiscing with other 'specialists' about our brave comrades that have fallen by the wayside and now live above a pet shop in a bedsit in tooting/eltham/basildon. either estranged from their wife and children or dead.
8.15pm to 11pm : have a fcking good laugh about the above 'fallen'. cnts.
11.15pm: time for home!!!. ring estranged ex colleagues wife on train home , wired to fu ck, with propositions of a sexual nature, realise you have in fact rung your sister, but continue anyway.
12.15: jump in cab and share a few lines with colin the cabby.
12.25: home time!!!, throw dinner in bin have violent argument with wife, spend a night of fitful sleep on the sette in suit, waiting to do it all again!!
..really looking forward to the big chukka tomorow re england vs costa rica!!
im hoping the big knobs get round the table and yank it out of the fire!.
according to andros townsend , joe hart, marine boy baines and eric bristow, we have had good performances and have been unlucky
i refuse to believe our big push at the hun/bosh is over , eschewing the belief that conceeding more goals than you score is all important in todays 'selfie' world of instant gratification.
.the game will be won or lost or drawn in midfield, but ironically the goals(all important under FIFA's crazy system) will almost inevitably be scored at the extremities of the pitch.
believe me ...these meat and cheese eaters dago's from the continent are ruthless and cunning enough to exploit this sorry state of affairs.
looking forward to seeing leighton baines using his cultured left peg to open a can of beans while sancho panza whips past him to dispatch a brace.
is it me or would our leighton look more at home on the lush fields of wimbledon playing association lawn tennis in full evening dress against 'gentlemen' jim corbett in 1922, with racketts made of peacock gut, crab apples and fine english oak. with noel coward singing 'mad dogs and englishmen in the corner with a ball boy on his lap, ' ray allen and lord charles' style.
according to roy we can rule the world in 2022!!!.
Dressed in white suit and white scarf in the dock according to the beeb, couldnt he paint his finger nails a violent purple , sport a vibrating cock ring as a monacle (or a young boys blown piston ring)and carry a gas mask in to clinch a guilty charge without the jurys involvement.
whose hes barrister, chuka umunna!!
unless his defence barrister is going for the death penalty
try some love eggs for earings garry just to clinch it.
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