They'll give any bastard a doctorate these days... uh, yeah
Shane Warne had a busy day today. It was his 37th birthday, which reiterates the fact that he's a sad, balding old eejit who should put it the fuck away already. However, the University of Southampton, noting Warney's indifferent performance in the latest batch of 'Yeah Yeah' ads, recently offered him the use of one of their stupid 'cow pat' hats to cover his receding bonce. You know, the kind of stupid hat you get when you get awarded a doctorate. Not necessarily earned, but awarded nonetheless. Looks like your correspondent could have saved himself four years of bullshit slog, working weekends and near permanent hangovers by just sitting on one's fat arse, eating baked beans, sinking piss, smoking Alpines, boning English slappers, sledging people at random and occasionally rolling the arm over. Cheers for that Warney - always the trendsetter.
Warney celebrated both birthday and graduation by elevating himself up to number three in his county side Hampshire's one-day innings. He proceeded to misjudge a hookshot, and copped a bouncer in the right temple. Blood and stitches followed.
Never in his 37 hilarious years has one man shown more capacity for heroic stupidity and comic injury. The Weak salutes Warney, the Steve Irwin of world cricket.
If you were a real doctor you'd do it yourself, you fat cunt
Real Madrid: real fuckin' ordinary
Led by the Weak's other favourite Fred (the Brazilian striker not the Spanish dude who just tore Schumacher a new one in the papers), French champions Lyon made the Galacticos of Real Madrid look like aging, fat, drug-addled '70s rockstars on one last reunion tour too many in this morning's Champions League group-stage opener. Lyon hammered in a couple of goals inside the first half hour then sat around waiting for Real Madrid's multibillion-Euro cavalcade of stars to actually do anything in response. Did Madrid hit back? Did they even look like gathering enough clue together to mount something approaching a decent attack? Did they bollocks. Even after picking the eyes out of the remnants of Juve over the summer (taking their captain Cannavaro and their coach Capello among others), they still looked as clueless as they ever had under random lunatics like Wanderlei Luxemburgo. Money buys you reputations, but reputations are based on what you did some time ago. In the case of most of the Real Madrid first XI, quite a fucking long time ago.
Speaking of expensively assembled clubs which are currently travelling like cold sick, Liverpool's recent form has been truly fucking horrible - losing three-blot to cross-town rivals Everton (actually they're just cross-park rivals - Anfield is only a couple of hundred yards from Goodison Park, within gobbing distance really) in the Liverpool derby, their worst loss in the derby in 40 years. Following this Rafa Benitez gave half the team pine-riding instructions for the Champions League opener against PSV Eindhoven. This time they didn't actually lose, drawing blot-all. As a spectacle it was abysmal, enlivened only by ESPN commentators Derek Rae and Tommy Fookin' Smyth never quite figuring out whether new Pool striker Dirk Kuyt's name should be pronounced 'Kite' as in 'high as a' or 'Coight' as in 'Russell'. Speaking of wackily named Dutch frontmen, perennial Weak favourite Jan Vennegoor of Hesselink, the man who carries his own return postal address on his team shirt, scored on his Champions League debut for Celtic against Man U. The Scots lost to the Mancs, but at least they made a game of it.
Elsewhere in the world of football, in a move that will surely send waves of anguish through the morally bankrupt women of Sydney's east, Dwight 'All Night' Yorke has been enticed back to Engerland to play for Championship (old Division 1; even older Division 2) side Sunderland, now managed by former Man U teammate Roy Keane (that is if you can accept that Keane was anyone's team 'mate' at any club he's poisoned the locker room atmosphere at.) Yorke, even in his mid-30s, was a talismanic footballer as well as a man to make good women weep and bad women prolapse. Granted, he sent the club broke with his salary demands, but you can't have everything - and Anthony la Paglia made enough off those cheese-laden Amex ads to pay off Dwight's outstanding bar tabs (and they were outstanding all right). In Yorke's place Sydney FC are currently trialling former Premiership and Serie A marksman Benito Carbone. Carbone is also 35 and also used to play for Villa - apart from that he has as much in common with Yorke as your mum. But he's useful. At least he's more use than Sasho Petrovski - but then again, so probably is your mum.
Anyway time to head off to find out for myself - the Doctor is OUT.
2 comments:
.. and as for the current spate of Sydney players swearing at coaches and/or referees Joey Johns style - I think the Herald's headline said it all:
Sydney F*C*
Cute .... probably gonna win that guy a Walkley too - even the coach liked it :P
True. SMH have outdone themselves - that's gold. I'm sure someone in the office was a bit iffy about publishing it though.
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