Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Well, yes...

A colleague told me this story today. Apparently his wife - who has zero interest in football - wandered into their front room last night and said:

"I just heard on the radio about that footballer who was stabbed in the legs."

"Yes," said my colleague, wondering where this was going.

She continued. "They said they might have to amputate his legs."

"That's what I heard too," he replied.

She paused, looking pensive. "So......I guess that would almost certainly put an end to his footballing career then?"

There's not a huge amount you can say to that.....

Sunday, 23 August 2009

Most annoying advert ever....

This one.

I'm sure it's attempting to be 'ironic' or something, but seriously - who thinks that front fog lights and CUSTOM MATS come under the description of 'goodies'.


Thursday, 20 August 2009

100 not out

I thought I'd use my 100th post on this blog to sit back, relax and say:

We are top of the league, say we are top of the league!

I may never get the chance again, so I'm grabbing it while I can :)

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

How to feel old, pt. 1

When your 22 year old co-worker informs you that she has never used a fax machine.

I'll say that again:

Never used a fax machine

When faced with our incredulity, she simply stated 'well, why wouldn't you email it?'

Words fail me. I require a time machine to re-educate her. I bet she's never done a tape-mix either, or used a VCR.

Does anyone have a spare time machine?

Tuesday, 18 August 2009


Regarding yesterday's post - on the off-chance you may have thought I was making those things up:

Coffee from cat poo

All the rubber plantations in Asia come from one man

Oh, and I'll add to my list:

e) it is possible to have a first name containing no vowels (or the letter y)

Monday, 17 August 2009


Things I've learnt in the last 7 days that are actually true. (No really. Seriously.)

a) Never do your football predictions when drunk (thanks Aussie Boy)

b) The greatest coffee in the world is made from filtered cat poo.

c) Rubber trees are not native to Asia. In fact every rubber plantation owes its existence to one man.

d) The most mis-understood word in the English language is 'agnostic'*

Anyway, in light of a) I'm revising number 17 in my list of predictions to be:

17) Spain will win the World Cup. They will meet Argentina in the final (after they beat England) and will win 2-1 with a goal from a winger in the 74th minute.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is a Prediction :)

*The most mis-understood word in Canadian is 'irony'**

Friday, 14 August 2009

Oh, titty fucking bollocks...

It's the start of the season tomorrow (that's the football (the proper one where you use your feet) season obviously) and I've not done my annual predictions yet.

I know this is a favourite time for some of you as you get to marvel is the rare occurrence of me being wrong occasionally, and I'm sure I won't be disappointing anyone this evening....

So, let's get it on:

1) The winners of the Premiership this season will be.....Chelsea. A brave shout, but I think that their squad is old and experienced and so is their coach. Ancelotti will bring the best tactically out of what is still a pretty strong group.

2) Second in the league will be.......Manure. Yes they lost Ronaldo and haven't replaced him with anything approaching the same ability, but removing the diving tosser from their side gives them a better formation to suit the other players.

3) Third will be.......Liverpool. Losing Alonso is a bad blow, and any injury to Torres of Gerrard will be curtains for any title bid.

4) Fourth will be.......Arsenal. Sorry Man City, I just can't see your best side emerge until too late in the season to challenge the gooners. Having said that, if the scummer's injury list get any worse then even holding on to fourth could be problematic.

5) I can't see beyond Man City, though they'll be closer to 6th than 4th.

6) I'm fancying Everton for 6th. Unless Lescott moves, then they might swap with Villa.

7) Villa for 7th. I'd hoped we'd poach Young but that looks a non-starter, and though they've lost Laursen and Barry I don't see them dropping off that much.

8) Time for realism. I just don't get the feeling that Spurs will push on this season. It's a stabilising year for us. Yes we'll beat the big teams but we'll crumble at times and lose stupid games when the big teams would close it out.

9) The three relegated teams will be Portsmouth, Wigan and Birmingham

10) Top scorer in the league will be Jermaine Defoe (oh come on, allow me some Spurs bias!)

11) Michael Owen will not score more than 15 league goals

12) But Darren Bent will

13) First Manager to be sacked will be Martinez of Wigan

14) Spurs will be in the top four at Christmas

15) A Premiership player will test positive for drugs (or will be penalised for not taking a test)

16) England will qualify for the World Cup with the best record of any European country

17) North Korea will make it to the World Cup finals

18) The squad that Capello picks for England at the World Cup finals will include Rooney, Heskey, Defoe and Owen, although Owen won't play a game.

19) Sunderland will finish in the top ten

20) Newcastle will not get promoted back to the Premiership this year.

A bit hurried are some of those, so I doubt I'm going to beat last year's score :(

At least Diet Coke pisses all over Diet Pepsi though *nods*

Thursday, 13 August 2009


I observed women's buttocks the other day - and I saw beauty.

Not at the same time, I'd like to add.

No, I was purchasing a sandwich at a posh(ish) sandwich bar near work (by posh I mean - not fried bacon and without ketchup) and seeing as it provides excellent (if expensive) freshly made salads to order, it is normally half full of women.

(Would it be rude to point out to a lady that 'chicken, prawns, coleslaw, pickled onions, beef and pork' is possibly why your 'salad-only' diet is not quite working for you?)

Anyway, this one day while we were waiting in the sandwich queue, a young woman walked in with her buttocks in the wrong place. Seriously. Most people's buttocks are sort of halfway between the neck and the feet, it's just....well.....normal. This girl, however, had buttocks sprouting from where her hamstrings should be - but was still tall. Her proportions were just bizarre. Stumpy legs and the world's longest back.

Sadly for her, she was standing in the queue next to her inverse twin - Ms. Legs As Far As They Can Go.

They were both the same height as well, and they ended up looking like this (excuse my skills in Paint):

It was strangely hypnotic.

As for beauty, well I can thank Alfa Male for pointing this out to me on the way home from work one day. I've never seen a plane intersect a Cirrus cloud quite like this before, but I thought it was pretty damn beautiful.

Friday, 7 August 2009

Wem-ber-lee, Wem-ber-lee, Wem-ber-lee!

The other week I attended the pre-season tournament known as the inaugural Wembley Cup.

(Though frankly, how they can call it a 'tournament' escapes me. 4 teams in the tournament, that each play two other teams - not all three. Therefore you have one team playing Africa's club champions on the Friday, followed by England's 10th best team on the Sunday - whilst another team plays Scotland's second best team on the Friday and Europe's club champions on the Sunday. Guess which team won? Yeah, the ones who didn't play Barcelona. Quelle surprise....)

As with all pre-season friendlies I hadn't been expecting a feast of great football, as most players take it as an opportunity to stroll about the park hitting over-ambitious balls into space and out for a throw-in.

But, and it's a big but, the Mighty Spurs were playing Barcelona. At
Wembley. I'd not been before, so for a minor *ahem* amount of money and a half day off work, it seemed a bargain.

A friend from work (a fellow Spurs fan) and I trained it across to London and met up with my Dad at Baker Street. After several beers we opted to head up to Wembley to see some of the Celtic v Al Ahly game, stopping only for food on Wembley Way (£7 for a Pastie and Chips! Christ...). The stadium itself is pretty impressive and ultra-modern compared to the last one (escalators to the top tier? Why not), although it does feel rather sterile and lacking in atmosphere.

Worst of all, they *still* haven't worked out how to serve drinks/snacks at anything other than a snail's pace. At Cardiff's Millennium Stadium you barely have to stop moving throughout the queue whenever you want a beverage.

We finally got to our seats to watch the rest of the Celtic game. Sadly there was no scoreboard so we had no idea how long there was to go, or what the score was until Celtic scored their 5th and the announcer told us which minute it was scored in :)

It then started raining heavily, so I took a quick picture of the rainbow above the ground. Amazingly the stadium had over 50,000 people in it by this point!

As for the game itself, well Barcelona fielded their 'C' team (with the exception of Yaya Toure in central midfield, and I can only assume he was being punished for something by being there) while we played a 4-5-1 formation with a midget on his own up front. We were rubbish and deserved to be losing 1-0 at half time. In the second half they made 11 changes and brought on their 'D' team - quick as a flash our manager responded and brought on 4 graduates of our youth team. Our 'D' team was better than their 'D' team and we equalised with 5 minutes to go!

All that was left was to wait for over an hour for a tube, and to finally get home at 2:30am - completely knackered. Though at least I can say I've seen Barcelona play now... :)

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Right then...

Okay, I've been a bit shit at updating this recently. In my defence there's been work, cricket, pre-season friendlies, big drunken catch-up sessions and murder getting in the way.

But enough of the rest of August's posts, let's talk babies.

Yeah. You heard me. The evil scrot-like things that refuse to stop bothering the planet like an intergalactic herpes infection.

Now I'm not averse to the concept of having children*, but there's no way I want them anytime soon - and rather brilliantly neither does Mrs. RS (a most beneficial side-effect of being the older person in a relationship). Maybe one day, you never know, but not in our near future.

If we do decide to have kids however and I ever turn into the type of parent I'm about to outline, you all officially have my permission to kill me in a variety of hideous ways.

For there is a type of parent (usually the father) whom lurches from disinterested 'yeah, gonna have a kid. That's my golf handicap out of the window' before the birth to 'my life is so amazing, I have a child. A baby. Awwww. A baby, Did I say I had a baby? Isn't she the most beautiful baby ever? Look, my baby. Awww. The building is on fire? Oh, well we'll only get through the first 10,000 baby photos before they evacuate us' afterwards.

The sort of person who's every sentence, every email, every text, twitter, blogpost, phone call or letter is about their bloody child. As if somehow they're the only people who have ever had children. As if doing something only 10 billion other humanoid creatures have ever done is somehow worthy of worship.

This is a genuine example from an acquaintance of mine with only the name changed - and is the sort of thing I get in a thrice-daily facebook update:

Piglet did her 1st crawl today!! Oh baby!! Woo hoo!

I feel sick.

Yeah, you had a kid. Congrats. You achieved something hundreds of thousands of other people have done IN THIS COUNTRY THIS YEAR. Big ups to the nappy massive.

If someone who did something else that's rather tough, gets done once a year and is done by hundreds of thousands of people (say, run a marathon maybe) and talked about NOTHING ELSE everytime you saw them - you'd rightly tag them as a boring fucknut.

Of course, the vast majority of parents are not like this at all. The world is divided into two types - those that get on with raising their children, and those that get a sign in the back window of their car saying 'Baby on Board' - and we all know some boring fucknut like that....

This rant was brought to you by the emotion 'moody', the physical sensation 'tired' and the logical conclusion that too many parents are 'selfish wankers'.

*That may actually come as a genuine shock to some of you