Thursday 17 June 2010

Do You Love Sport?

Do you love sport? Are you totally fed up with Britain's pathetic performances in recent Olympic games? Do you despair at the thought of yet another useless showing in 2012? Well I can exclusively reveal that Team GB has a more than cunning plan to ensure that the Union Jack is regularly run up the pole in London.


I have today seen a top secret document from the Ministry For Sport, that Whitehall top brass wanted to keep under wraps until the last possible moment. My ministerial mole has provided me with a copy of an email to David Cameron from the Minister For Sport, Hugh Robertson, outlining how Britain can win a plethera of gold medals and ensure our place at the top of the medal table.


Hugh Robertson sets out his priorities.


The email reveals how the International Olympic Committee allow the nation hosting the Olympic Games to include some additional events and my mole tells me that Robertson has played a master stroke in proposing the following list of athletic disciplines:
1. The Egg and Spoon Race
2. The Sack Race
3. The Three Legged Race
4. The Climbing Through Hoops and Getting Dressed Race
5. The Morris Dancing Race
6. The Pancake Race.


All these events will be over 100 metres, 200 metres, 400 metres, 800 metres, 1,500 metres, 3,000 metre steeplechase, 5,000 and 10,000 metres, as well as various relays, and will be for both the men and women.


Team GB has years of experience in all of the above events, as school children for generations have strove for excellence each July, and it is likely that we will have a clean sweep of all the medals.


Other strange events. Cheese rolling, Toe Wrestling and Bog Snorkelling are also firm favourites


Another likely event is the Council Estate 4 by 400 metre relay where teams of four have to carry a 22 inch TV as the baton.


In addition, Robertson is also advocating the inclusion of some additional boat races. Namely the Nine Man Alcoholic Boat Race. I can reveal that this event will consist of eight teams of nine men sitting facing the back of their nearest team mate. On the opening bell the first man has to drink a yard of ale, which is rumoured to be the real ale favourite Old Peculiar. On emptying his glass, each competitor has to place the upturned vessel on his head before the next team member can drink his yard. The winning team is the first to complete the whole nine yards. The team who finish last in each leg has to buy the next round. In the event of a dead heat, the team with the driest heads will be deemed the winner. Should any member vomit before all nine yards have been drunk, his team shall lose that leg.


The event will be in a knock-out format, the first two rounds consisting of a best of three races, the quarter-final and semi-final will be the best of five and the final the best of seven. Each country can enter a squad consisting of no more than eleven drinkers, with any nine competing in each round. The event will be completed in its entirety in one day. Rounds one and two will take part in the morning session, the quarter and semi-final in the afternoon session and the bronze medal play-off and final in the evening session.


I can reveal that one event that won't be appearing in 2012 is the broom race, as it has been deemed to dangerous. This is a race where a competitor has to drink a yard of ale before putting his head on the top of a broom handle and run around it ten times before running 50 metres to the finishing line.


So don't despair, put your mortgage on Team GB to top the medal table. Let the good times roll.




What the.......!

Saturday 12 June 2010

This time next year I'll be a millionaire


Well folks, you may not believe it, but I will be rich within 12 months.  I have finally decided to use my writing skills (don't laugh) and sense of humour to share my unique outlook on life, and thus make loadsamoney.

Ok, Maybe a million within a year is a little optimistic even for me, but aim high, heh! What's the worst that can happen? I suppose I could put in a dodgy link to some illegal site and incriminate myself in the process. Perhaps I may absent-mindedly forget to pay my dues to HMR and Customs, that would be silly wouldn't it. Tax Avoidance, A practical guide for UK residents Or maybe I might inadvertently write something libellous about someone famous such as the Prime Minister and get the arse sued off me.

But avoiding all of the above may lead to a lucrative new sideline. Added to that, I am going to start writing Sci Fi or Fantasy novels when I can work out which is which. So the sky is clearly the limit.

Now the next bit is definitely not libellous (I hope).


It has been alleged (by someone, definitely not me, but I don't know who; could have been Neil B'stard), that David Cameron has finally had a good idea on how to save money on public spending. He has decided to shelve the policy of drastic job cuts throughout the public sector. Any fool could see that this would have put thousands more on the already swollen dole queue, and severly cut services in Health, Education and Law Enforcement amongst others.

You can call me stupid if you like, but the government lose the tax and National Insurance revenue from these employees and then have to fork out a fortune in unemployment benefits, tax credits, housing benefits, etc, etc. What the hell does that achieve?

Added to that, the newly unemployed now have no money for essentials like mortgage repayments, and for luxury purchases.

Resulting in increased repossessions and a collapse in the construction industry, which is only just recovering from the recession. Local retailers and multi-nationals will feel the pinch and many more jobs will be lost due to everyone's lack of spending power.

And so the cycle perpetuates (I know, it is a big word for me) itself. This will send us hurtling back into an even deeper recession.

So what is his alternative I hear you ask?

Well he has decided to lay off 90% of all MPs with immediate effect. This would leave 65 MPs to run the country, which is more than enough if you ask me. It is a well known fact that most MPs spend very little time in Parliament and even less working in their own constituencies

So how does he chose the 90% to lay off? It is believed that Cameron will get rid of those with the smallest winning margins, taking into account percentage swings and defections, and then seasonally adjusting the figures. I can now exclusively reveal that that means that there will be 64 Tory MPs and Nick Clegg.

What's that I hear you ask? "What the.....!"

Thursday 10 June 2010

Things I'd rather do than watch the world cup

Well, it's nearly upon us. One month of absolute drivel. Overgrown kids watching kids who've never grown up, throwing their toys out of the pram because the throw in went against them. Eleven 'men' trying to get the other eleven 'men' sent off for tripping them up with their shadow. Circling the poor referee like the whole of the Apache tribe besieging Custer at his last stand, when he's not given them a penalty/given the other team a penalty. Or waving an imaginary yellow or red card begging and badgering the stressed official to let them referee the match themselves.

If the TV companies had any sense, they would only televise matches involving Brazil. The director should instruct the 500 or so cameramen to turn the cameras away from the pitch and treat us to 90 minutes of gorgeous South American talent, with their golden shirts tied into knots exposing their golden delicious navels. Here's a few links to wet your appetite, but don't miss Miss England 2010 -scroll all the way down!

japan v sweden, mmm..close match


I think she's brazillian, but hey, who cares where she from

beautiful brazillian talent #3

how did this one get in here?

beautiful brazillian talent #4

naked argy fan

oh no! the shower's not working


I guess football isn't all bad after all!



But then of course there's England






What the hell is that!

Wednesday 9 June 2010

Automatic for the people

My automatic washing machine finally died last week. For some time the door was only hanging on by one hinge and it had to be wedged shut. It had worked quite happily like this for about two years since the boy had tried to use it as a step (whilst open) in order to climb onto the kitchen worktop. This would in turn give him access to the higher units where all the goodies were once kept out of reach.

The boy was barely 2 years old at the time. He had first exhibited his aptitude for climbing when I heard a loud thud, which took my attention away from the Saturday evening Celtic League match I was trying to enjoy. To facillitate the enjoyment of the said match I had placed the boy in his all singing, all dancing travel cot/playpen/nappy changing station. He had an assortment of his favourite cuddly playthings to keep him company. He was about seven or eight months old and was a late developer in the walking department, having reached the stage where he could just about manage to shuffle a few feet, usually whilst clinging to the table cloth. Result: much broken crockery.

Anyway the thud was the sound of boy's head meeting wilton carpet (I won't go into that today). The little blighter had managed to create a ramp out of all his toys which had enabled him to scale the side of the travel thingy and clamber over the side. His plan was only half baked as he had not prepared a suitable landing area.

I watched the remainder of the match comforting him, with the volume at full blast to drown his little sobs. This wasn't the first time that he had managed to spoil my enjoyment of the breautiful game. That was a 6 Nations match between Wales and Scotland and the little bugger hadn't even been born yet. Wife said that she thought that she was in labour, and she should know cos this was the third time. I said, "you can't be, it's still the first half." She was quite insistent and so I agreed to wait until half time and review the situation.

At half time wife was adamant and so insisted that I take her to hospital. I argued that on number 1 and 2 she had done everything within her power to extend the pregnancy to world record lengths. She still insisted. Then she played her trump card, as women always do. "If anything goes wrong, I hope you can live with the guilt." Five minutes later I was breaking the speed limit on the way to PCH, desperately trying to get there, get her booked in and settled, and then trying to watch the remnants on some poxy little portable tv that had more than its share of interference. My efforts were in vain, I didn't see any more of the action as Wales won their only match of that particular 6 Nations. Boy was born 12 hours later!!!

Back to the washing machine. Well apart from the dodgy door, for about six months, only one setting worked - 30 degree wash. We could manage with this, but unfortunaley it didn't automatically go to rinse. We had to actually wait for the end of the wash and turn the dial to rinse to get the damned thing to rinse. And then do the same for the spin. Not exactly an automatic washing machine really.

We put up with that until last week when despite doing all of the above, the washing came out actually smelling worse than before it went in. Anyone who's ever caught a whiff of my three day old boxers may find that hard to believe, but believe me it's true. Wife slapped me very hard for no reason at all, when I politely enquired if she had forgotten to put in the washing powder. So that was it, it had to go.

So check the internet, find good looking model (not Naomi Campbell or Cindy Crawford unfortunately), £50 off plus free delivery, connection and disposal of old model. Tell wife all of above. She's very happy. GREAT.

Delivery people phone on Monday and talk to wife. Arrange delivery for today (Wednesday) between 11 and 12 am. GREAT.

Last night I disconnect old machine in readiness as requested. Today I leave for work at 10 past 7 am. Work until 20 past 8 pm. Drive to swimming pool on way home to collect oldest girl from swimming club which finishes at 9pm. Leave there at 20 past 9 pm after she has a shower and changes. Arive home at 25 to 10 pm. fourteen and a half hours after leaving home this morning. F***ING GREAT. The new maching is outside utility room still in all its packaging. Ask wife what it's doing there. She says delivery man Del asked her where to put it, and she said by there, and that's where Del left it. I asked wife why he hadn't installed as per free connection. Blank look. I ask where delivery note is. No delivery note, Del only asked for electronic signature. Wife says she didn't know, even though we discussed how good the deal was. I get the balme and end up installing the bloddy thing anyway.

Tomorrow wife is going to complain - I'll let you know if anything develops.

What the....

Monday 7 June 2010

World Cup Whinge

I know you'll think I shouldn't be saying this cos I'm a bloke, like, you know, but how can anyone get excited about a bunch of overpaid, like, uneducated, you know, prima donnas, right, who can't stay on their feet long enough for a knee trembler when they're on the pitch, okay, sometimes kicking a ball about.


To be a football manager must be like trying to manage a creche with 11 prepubescent spoilt rotten, only childs in your care.


They cheat so often these days that they think nothing of cheating with their team mates wags.


Here are some quotes I thought you might like, you know.


Football is all very well a good game for rough girls, but not for delicate boys.


Oscar Wilde


There is an old saying which says in various forms that:
rugby is a thug's game played and watched by gentlemen, football is a gentleman's game played and watched by thugs.
This is absolutely true.


My hard drive media player is fully loaded with about 70 films for when there's no alternative 'entertainment' on the box.
 
Football
 
What the hell do you think.

Watch out, here I come

Well folks, this is what you've been waiting for, for such a long time. I am going to amuse and annoy you, I am going to bemuse and bannoy you (I know, but what rhymes with annoy and starts with 'b').



I am going to give my honest opinions about the important, inane or just plain inocuous items in the news. I may lambast my neighbours for not inviting me to that great barbeque last weekend. Or for waking me up at midnight with an almighty row and then for keeping me up all night listening to them making.......up!



I might try to write the shortest sentence that includes every punctuation mark. ",!;':. Beat that! Well I didn't say that it had to contain actual words and be gramatically correct, did I?



And I might just have a good old rant about nothing in particular. We'll just have to wait and see.



Did you see the story of the cat who didn't want to be catstrated.



A Miss Brown walked into Woosehill Vets
With her tom cat whom she called Lexi
She said can you chop off his nuts
Because lately he's been getting too sexy



So the vet stroked her pussy and said
I'm sure that I am quite able
To castrate your poor little Lexi
And he laid him down on the table



But as the vet approached with his scalpel
Lexi Disappeared before he could grab it
And when Miss Brown came to get him
They tried to palm her off with a rabbit



So please keep an eye out for Lexi
You could tempt him in with a treat
But if in your home there is pussies
You'd better lock up your moggies on heat



Till next time



What the hell was that.