Wednesday, November 21, 2007

English Footballers

After watching England's pathetic over-paid and over-hyped bunch of total tossers abjectly surrender to Croatia this evening, I felt a need for a Spleen.
Can I just say "what a bunch of useless, spoilt, not-as-good-as-they-think-they-are" toss pots we have representing our country at the moment.
Good luck to Croatia. They showed how football should be played. Good riddance Steve McLaren. Fuck off back to Middlesborough and don't come back you useless half wit.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Utterly Pointless Celebrities II

I am back, and this time, it's not really personal, but these people still get on my tits and have nothing really to offer the population of this planet...
  1. Jordan and Peter Andre. How much plastic can you pump into a pair? And I am not talking about Jordan's infamous appendages. These two "people" bring vacuousness to a new depth. She is a huge-titted, thich-as-shit model; he is a plastic muscled failed Aussie popstar. Who in their right minds wants to read about their pointless lives, let alone watch the tossers on TV?
  2. Kerry Katona. Words fail me here. "Why?" doesn't really convey all the horror that this woman's face and name conjours up for me. You just know that if she hadn't become a "celebrity", she'd still be in Iceland, only this time attempting to stuff a frozen chicken in her pants as she wheels her brood of snotty oiks about in a push chair. Chav trailer trash. A scratter.
  3. Jeff Greene. You are probably thinking - who? Jeff Greene I have picked on in particular, just because I have seen him on TV tonight, but his entry here also covers a multitude of sinners. These are the people who are famous only for appearing on things like "The Top 50 Stunning Soap Moments", or "The All Time 100 Most Embarrassing Bodily Functions" as talking heads slagging off something or someone else. Jeff Greene, I believe, originally was a stand up comedian, but he was pants, but luckily enough for him he obviously knows someone at either the BBC or Channel 4, because you can rest assured, the next time either of these channels wheels out another "Top 25 Reasons to Carry on Breathing", Jeff will be on there being twinkly, cheeky and a wanker.
  4. Nicky Grahame. This is the stupifyingly thick, ugly little cow who was on Big Brother in 2006. Her biggest ambition in life is (get this) to marry a Premiership Footballer so she can spend his money. This woman is not even a WAG. She is a WAG wannabe, which is about as low and pathetic as life gets really. Her constant whining, tantrums and screams of "who is she? Who is she? REALLY? Who is SHE?" whilst wearing a swimsuit which was more of a couple of bits a string than a costume, and all the time grimacing with a face like fucking Blakey off "On The Buses" was enough to make you want to put your foot through the screen.
  5. Tara Palmer-Tomkinson. Do I really have to spell this one out? A stupid spoilt tart with a body like an ironing board, a nose soon to part company with her face and a voice like a horse box being driven repeatedly over a cattle-grid. Go away!

Don't go anywhere folks! I am just warming up. More soon...

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Northerners Views of the Beautiful South

Imagine the situation if you will. You are about to embark on a long journey abroad, possibly on a boat or a plane. You are happy and content because at that very moment you are the only British person in the environment. Lovely! Picture then, that feeling of utter horror, depression and crushing inevitability that something dreadful is about to happen as another British person joins you. And they are from up North. And by up north I mean either Yorkshire or Lancashire. First they will be friendly and chatty as you are a fellow Brit, but as their attention span (not the longest in the history of humanity at the best of times) begins to wander they will suddenly remind you why it was such a good idea by the Romans to build a bloody great big wall to keep the "northern hoardes" out.
Your biggest crime in their eyes is that you are from "the south". To them this will give them carte blanche to comment on:
  1. Your sexuality. As you are from "down south" then you are very obviously a poof. This is northern logic in action. You will see a lot more of it in the next few moments.
  2. Southern beer. All southern beer to anyone born north of Watford is inevitably dubbed "weak as piss shandy drinkers dish water!" And this from an area of Britain that gave us John Smith's Smooth Flow - the brewing equivalent of draining the contents of the bottom of a dish washer. When I do go up north I have often been astounded by the amount of pubs that serve real ale through a sparkler. A sparkler is an attachment on the pump that puts more air in the beer, froths it up and masks its flavour if it is weak or gone off. At the pubs I used to work in down south we only ever put sparklers on the pumps when the beer was on the turn, but apparently it is demanded to be on every single pump "oop north".
  3. Southern women. Northern fuckwit men like to tell everyone that all southern women are ugly dogs and right old slappers. Apparently all northern women are stunning Helen of Troy look-a-likes and are as classy as a night out in Blackpool. Just like all those real lookers on Coronation Street you mean? More pigs and hounds in that street than on your average farm.
  4. How wonderful Lancashire/Yorkshire is and how awful wherever you live is. There was a documentary on some years ago following a group of tourists at a Greek Island resort. There was a complete mixture of people from all walks of life - and a group of four friends from Lancashire. They all wore t-shirts that mentioned somewhere on them that they were from Lancashire. One of the guys spent the whole holiday wandering around the resort in a vest with the words "I'm From Lancashire, Lancashire is Great, You can all FUCK OFF" written on it. How witty. Oscar Wilde at his finest. To cap it all off this idiot suffered a deep vein thrombosis in his leg on arrival, but decided to go and get pissed for three days first before consulting a doctor. After being hauled off to a Greek hospital he checked himself out immediately, rented a moped and spent another two days drinking and riding his way round the countryside with a leg that was rapidly turning a violent shade of purple. He finished the holiday by turning up for the flight back to Lancasheeeer pissed and abusive at the airport. Oh for a suicide bomber on that flight.

Now I realise that there is a competitive element wherever people live. I was always amazed by how much animosity there was between north and south London when I lived in the capital. But northerners don't just have chips on both shoulders, they have fucking great bags of King Edward Potatoes. And as for the Welsh.... Nah, better not go there.

Tuesday, April 10, 2007

Utterly Pointless Celebrities

Do you, like me, find yourself virtually frothing at the mouth with rage when certain people appear on TV? Some may think that this is an irrational rage, but I am much more sympathetic, because let's face it, there is always at least one complete tosser who is employed by the TV stations for the only reason but to drive normal viewers insane with rage. And here, in no particular order, are my ten personal tossers:
  1. Fearne Cotton. WTF? How on Earth did this irritating little twat of a human being ever get employed by the BBC in the first place? She is even more annoying as she seems to be under the massive misapprehension that (a) she is clever and funny, and (b) people agree with the total bollocks she spouts forth. Did her being a relative of former BBC Director General Bill Cotton have anything to do with her sudden propulsion up the league table of presenters? Surely not! (See previous Spleens for my views on nepotism. Hi Giles Coren!). The final nail in Fearne's coffin for me was her interruption of REM's set at the Live 8 gig in London, just so that she could go on air and chat to her mates in Razorlight. Shut up, woman!
  2. Vernon Kay. Just what the UK needs now - another loud mouthed talentless Lancastrian being jolly and funny and gurning at the camera every three seconds like some lobotomised red neck fuckwit. If it were a straight choice between being stuck in a lift with Vernon or slamming my genitals in a walk in freezer door for a couple of days, I would personally queue up and pay a tout over the odds for tickets to the freezer door. Or as Vernon would pronounce it "doo-urr".
  3. Natasha Beddingfield. OK, admittedly not a presenter on TV, but on TV enough as to make one want to take up Russian Roulette as a hobby. Where do I start? That grating annoying voice? Those tuneless bloody songs that go on forever? That simpering look and equine teeth? All that bloody "born again Christian" bollocks? I fear it is mostly down to one song - "Unwritten" - the most tuneless, directionless, pointless, faux philosophising pile of self obsessed wank ever played endlessly on the music channels. And you can quote me on that...
  4. Russell Brand. Do I really need to spell this one out? A stick insect with back combed hair? Forsooth! A media tart without a heart, but a mouth with verbal dysentry, a worrying obsession with his own genitalia and so self obsessed with his own image as to not realise that within a few years he will be forever replayed on nostalgia programmes as a sort of "didn't we look like a bunch of twats in the early 2000's?" strand. Quite simply a pointless, talentless, gobby twat.
  5. Anyone Who Has Ever Been a Presenter on "Loose Women". Or as it should be titled: "Menopausal Man Hating Harpies Bleat About Lack of Sex, Chocolate Obsessions and Water Retention". Particularly that odd woman (is it Carol?) with the cheeks like she's a hamster caught halfway through a particularly crunchy carrot. But I can forgive Colleen Nolan most things as she has fabulous tits.
  6. Chantelle. You know the lady I mean. Britain's very own version of Paris Hilton. But more of a Paris Travelodge really. Why have people actually bought her autobiography? What is there to know? I can save you some money, here is a potted outline of her autobiography: Dumb blonde trollope, does Paris Hilton look-a-likes, gets lucky break appearing on appalling "reality TV show", cops off with unknown lead singer of equally unknown band, marries him, fucks off into the sunset, the end - who cares? This woman brings a whole new meaning to the word "SHALLOW". Brain dead, pointless waste of oxygen.
  7. Eamon Holmes. Some years ago, I sent a letter of complaint to GMTV about some appalling bollocks they had put on stereotyping Essex (my old home). It was a long, eloquent and well balanced letter, getting my displeasure at the item over in a firm but pleasant way. What did I get as a reply? A letter from Eamon himself saying "Sorry you didn't like our funny little item. Here is a signed photo of me to cheer you up." AAAAAARGH! WANKER! The man is a simpering tosser who loves the sound of his own voice and supports Mancester United, an offence which should be punishable by death.
  8. June Sarpong. Words fail me now. How did this woman ever get into TV? She looks like a pig - sorry folks this is true. June has a face that only a mother could love. The voice? Jesus, this is like a cross between Jimi Hendrix whilst totally bonged off his rocker trying to read the telephone directory and the sound of someone scraping their fingernails down a particularly shiny blackboard. I thought the two main requisites of being a presenter on TV these days was a relatively articulate and clear voice, and a pleasant attractive face. Oh, bad luck June! 0 out of 2 for you!
  9. Fiona Phillips. Pass the sten gun will you, dear? SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! And for heaven's sake, when looking at the camera stop tilting your head to one side. In fact, better still just fuck off out the studio and don't come back. Leave it to the far more attractive, intelligent and lovely Penny Smith.
  10. Gregg Wallace and John Torode. Who? The two tossers with the complete sense of humour by-pass who present "Master Chef". What a pair of fecking wankers! Particularly John "I am so serious it hurts" Torode. John, relax my man! It is just food! Put your feet up, have a Pot Noodle and chill man! You can imagine that one day the pair of them might crack a smile and when they do - the sound of splitting skin, the screams of agony from the pair of them as their heads fall in half. I thought I would never hear myself utter these words but, bring back Loyd Grossman.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Slavery - an Apology.

Wow, this is great. We now all have to feel very guilty about our involvement in the slave trade in the past and must abase ourselves, being incredibly penitent and generally groveling about as only modern PC people can be. To some extent, I agree with this. The slave trade was an abomination that debased humanity. But why do we only have to apologise to Africa? Why can't we get the Italians to apologise to everyone from Egypt to Scotland for all the slaves the Romans dragged out of their hovels and worked to death in their gross Empire? What about the Vikings? Bloody Danes, they should be sending a letter and a box of choccies to every house from Thurso to Lands End for their thoughtless piratical ways back in the dark ages. And what about those Arabic Corsairs of the 16th and 17th century, plucking unlucky individuals from villages along the Atlantic coasts from North Africa up to the Bristol Channel? Surely a cheque in the post, a bottle of wine and a balloon with "Sorry for ruining your great great great great great great great great great great great grandads life" on it in comic lettering would soften the blow that their modern descendents still suffer with?

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Are You A Premiership Footballer?

Have you ever wondered if you have the skill, temperament and the guile to make it as a top Premiership Footballer with one of England’s leading teams? This handy and fun multiple-choice quiz will let you know if you’ve got what it takes to cut it in this cut-throat, glitzy, celebrity crammed world of fast cars, funny hair cuts and bad play acting. Check your answers at the end and see how you did – who knows, you could be the new Wayne Rooney or Christiano Ronaldo.

1) You are playing football in the back garden of your house with your five year old son and his best friend. Your son asks you to throw the ball back to him so he can then kick it towards you. What do you do?
a. Gently lob the ball to the child and give him lots of praise when he catches it cleanly.
b. Side foot the ball towards him slowly along the ground.
c. Start to walk away from him as though you haven’t heard his request, when he begins to follow you repeating his request, start walking backwards staring at him with a smug smile on your face and as he goes to try and grab the ball from you, lob it high up in the air over his head so it bounces behind him about 20 feet away.

2) It is dinner time at your house. Your wife has cooked a nice Italian pasta dinner and you, as a family, are going to sit down together in the front room and watch a TV programme as you eat. As you walk into your front room with your dinner, your five year old son accidentally brushes against you as he runs into the kitchen. What do you do?
a. Remind him he shouldn’t be running in the house when there is hot food about.
b. Smile and pat him on the head and call him a “little tinker”.
c. Throw yourself to the ground with a loud cry of pain, rolling over and over. Clutch your knee and convulse as though someone has just stuck 10,000 volts through you, writhe in agony with your eyes closed and when your wife walks into the room to see if you are OK, immediately wave an imaginary yellow card towards her with pitiful tear filled eyes and point at your son. When she has admonished the child, immediately leap to your feet, sit down and eat your pasta.

3) Your team have just won a vital match in the Premiership. In three days time you will be jetting off to Spain to play a major La Liga team in the quarter finals of the Champions League. How do you celebrate your Premiership victory?
a. Have a cup of tea on the coach back to your home ground.
b. Get back to your home ground and have a couple of small beers with some of your team mates, before driving home for an early night with your wife.
c. Head for the nearest nightclub, drink a dangerous amount of beer, snort about an eight yard length of cocaine, have a fight with a photographer, pick up an impressionable 16-year-old school girl who wanted your autograph and then get about 15 of your mates to join in with a gang bang with her in a hotel room you have just booked.

4) The club which first signed you on schoolboy terms, brought out your natural talent and guided you through the early difficult years of your career now has to reluctantly sell you to a much bigger club so as to safeguard their future. How do you react when you return to play against your former club?
a. Clearly applaud the home fans and make it clear you appreciate their support from the past.
b. Try to ignore whatever reception you get from them, but if good, sheepishly wave towards them at some point.
c. Play as though possessed by the Devil, and if you score, even if it is a one yard tap in, beat your chest violently, run to in front of your former home fans and kiss the badge of your new club.

5) You are a thuggish Irish midfielder. A couple of years previously you had deliberately tried to cripple an opposing player with a brutish tackle, but succeeded in merely injuring yourself. You come face to face with the same opponent in a new match. What do you do?
a. Shake his hand before the match, apologise for what you did and hope he will see that bygones are bygones.
b. Just play your normal game.
c. Make a b-line for this player and as soon as he gets the ball, once more brutishly scythe him down, wrecking his career and knee in the process. As he is lying in pain on the floor shout some obscenities at him and then write all about it in a triumphalist way in your soon to be published (ghost written) autobiography.

6) You are a Senegalese international footballer. You have been signed to one of the biggest clubs in the Premiership. You are currently earning somewhere in the region of about £30,000 per week. Your TV licence is due for renewal at about £130 per year. What do you do?
a. Pay it in one lump sum as you earn a fortune.
b. Pay it in monthly instalments via direct debit
c. Refuse to pay it, get a summons to court, apply successfully for legal aid and when taunted about it by some small children at an away ground spit in the children’s faces and yell obscenities at them.

7) You are England football captain and one of the most high profile players of your generation. You yearn for respect, not only from your playing peers but also from the general public who come to see you play ever week. How do you achieve this?
a. By playing clean and fair every week.
b. By avoiding publicity and shunning the celebrity limelight.
c. By getting photographed by paparazzi wearing a sarong and your thin and thick-as-pig-shit “pop star” wife frequently rabbits to the newspapers about your habit of wandering around the house in her thongs. You then get caught with your trousers down having a bit of humpty-dumpty with a publicity seeking, yo-yo knickered, pig wanking old biffer.

8) You are a fiery Welsh striker and have had several run-ins with authority at some of the clubs you have played for in the past. You are undoubtedly talented and a large Premiership club takes a gamble and pays a lot of money for your services. This could be your last chance to make good and not cock up your career. What do you do at your new club?
a. Keep you head down, your nose clean and behave yourself.
b. Start acting your age, but still enjoying the odd beer or two here and there with your mates.
c. After signing for the club you head straight to a downtown Merseyside club, get completely shedded and then punch a teenage girl in the face when she gently mocks your blonde highlighted hair and silly tattoos.

9) You are a spud faced, big-eared, angry young footballer who has just signed to one of the largest clubs in the World. Although only just out of your teenage years, you have managed to garner a reputation for something of a short fuse on your temper. You are playing for England in a vital World Cup match. A defender tries to wrestle you off the ball. What do you do?
a. Try and keep control and spin away from him using your strength.
b. Use your brilliant ball control skills to bamboozle him, and leave him in a heap on the ground.
c. Wrestle the Portuguese bastard to the floor and then stamp on his bollocks right in front of the referee, look gob-smacked when you get sent off and then blame everyone else.

10) You are playing for a top club in a Premiership match. The score is currently 0-0. You are not on top of your game and your first touch has been letting you down all match. You fluff another chance in front of goal. You look over to see that the Manager has called for you to be substituted. How do you react?
a. Accept that today was not your day and trot off the pitch, pausing to applaud your fans, shake hands with your replacement and get a pat on the back from the Manager.
b. You’re not happy, but the Manager is your boss and what he says goes.
c. Look astonished, wander off the pitch very slowly, pausing only to wipe your nose on your shirt and then fling it at your Manager. Stomp off to the dressing room where you smash a few bits of crockery, have a dump in the showers and then piss off to a club and have a fight with another photographer.

So how did you get on?

· If you answered mostly A’s, then I am afraid you are not really cut out for the high quality football that we need in the Premiership, The best you can manage is probably a few seasons at Rotherham.
· If you answered mostly B’s, then you are doing a bit better, but again your finishing is letting you down and you will spend your career swapping between Hartlepool and Darlington.
· If you answered mostly C’s, then welcome to the Premiership! You are just the sort of short tempered, over-paid, cry-baby poseur that Manager’s are almost killing each other to get hold of. You will probably play for Chelsea and live with a Page 3 girl. Until you drink yourself to death at the age of 46.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

How Much of a True Muslim Are You?

How much of a true Muslim are you?
Are you a ticking time bomb of malcontent? Has several centuries of persecution from the Crusader states left you with throbbing temples and weird voices in your head and a crushing desire to kill hundreds of infidels? Or are you just a normal guy in a burqa who wants to get on with his life? Just take this simple to use fun multiple-choice quiz and find out just how much of a Muslim fanatic you really are!

1) You are watching the news on TV. There is a report on the ongoing Palestinian-Israeli impasse over illegal Jewish settlements on the West Bank. You are incensed at the USA’s continual backing of Israel in any argument. What do you do?
a. Write a stern letter to the US Embassy and the Israeli Consulate in London, condemning their actions.
b. Refuse to buy any more McDonald’s Hamburgers or Jaffa Oranges.
c. Strap vast amounts of explosives onto your heavily pregnant wife and then drive her to a Pizza Hut in Tel Aviv and detonate her during a children’s party.

2) Your neighbour’s wife is sunbathing in their back garden in just a skimpy bikini. What do you do?
a. Have a quick ogle out the window after all; she has got smashing oompah-loompahs.
b. Ignore her, she can do what she likes, it is a free country after all.
c. Gather a baying crowd of your friends together, drag her into the street and stone her to death in front of her children.

3) An elderly Catholic gentleman gives a lecture in Germany. During this lecture he includes several quotes regarding a variety of major religions throughout the World and illustrates their perception to other cultures in times gone by. One such quote he uses is from a Byzantine Emperor from centuries ago who described the Prophet Mohammed as a bringer of Evil and violence. How do you react?
a. Read through the transcript of his lecture and highlight and underline the bits you find interesting.
b. Write a letter of mild rebuke to the Vatican, pointing out that Islam is a lovely soft fluffy faith, the religious equivalent of a small Labrador puppy.
c. Gather a huge baying mob of ill-educated psychopaths onto the streets waving placards and banners reading “BEHEAD THE POPE!” “ISLAM WILL DEVOUR CATHOLICISM!” and “DEATH TO ABSOLUTELY ANYONE WHO SAYS WE ARE VIOLENT, THE BASTARDS!” and set fire to a couple of churches. And shoot a Nun. In the back.

4) Your parents moved from grinding poverty in a Karachi back street to a smart, modern comfortable home in a pleasant suburb of an English midlands town. All of your wants in life have been catered for. How do you show your appreciation to this country which has given you so many opportunities in your life?
a. Become a local councillor for the local Government Authority and attempt to help the plight of other people of a similar ethnic back ground who have been less lucky than you.
b. Strive to make an even better life for your children than your parents did for you, working hard and enjoying the benefits of your new existence.
c. Ponce off to Afghanistan and learn how to fire anti-tank missiles, make videos of yourself dressed in combat fatigues, holding an AK47 and screaming passages from the Koran, declare death on anyone in the UK who might disagree with your point of view and then blow yourself up on a packed commuter train slaughtering innocent people by the hundreds.

5) You are a one-eyed, two hooks for hands, stark raving bonkers Imam from a disgraced Mosque in north London who has been spreading inflammatory texts to impressionable teenagers, urging his followers to attack and kill infidels and generally spending every waking hour slagging off the United Kingdom as a pile of crap that would disgrace the bottom of a latrine. How do you support your lifestyle and enormous family?
a. Get a job working long hard hours in a local hospital.
b. Do as much part-time work as you can spare when you aren’t frothing at the mouth at your local Mosque.
c. Sign on the dole and get every bloody hand out you can get even though you probably haven’t paid a single penny in income tax or national insurance over the past 20 years.

6) You are another stark raving bonkers Imam from another disgraced Mosque somewhere in London. Your many years of firebrand preaching of hatred and death towards all non-believers of your religion finally lands you in trouble with the authorities and you find yourself deported to the Lebanon. A short while after your deportation, Israeli jets start dropping bloody great big bombs almost smack bang on your front door mat. The British Royal Navy, on a mercy mission is helping evacuate people from this war zone. How do you react?
a. Sneer with derision at the British infidels with their fake concern for your Muslim brothers and sisters. You wouldn’t go back to that God-less island hell-hole of Britain if they paid you!
b. Gather your family and friends together and make a break for the quieter north of the country taking all your possession with you – anything rather than face the ignominy of crawling back to the British authorities for help. You are made of stern stuff!
c. Shit your pants as soon as the first bomb goes off and turn up white faced and trembling at the gang plank of the first British ship you see, begging, crying and screaming to be allowed back in to Britain, like a great big girly.

7) A small insignificant Danish newspaper prints a frankly pretty lame cartoon showing the Prophet Mohammed in heaven complaining that with all the suicide bombers that have been around lately, they are running short of virgins for them. How do you react when you are told about this cartoon? (Remember, you haven’t actually seen it!)
a. Snigger a little at the joke, but agree with your mates it is not that funny.
b. Shrug your shoulders and get on with what you were doing before.
c. Run screaming into the Swedish Embassy brandishing a sword, threatening to behead people who thought the cartoon was funny. Look mightily embarrassed as it is explained to you that this is the Swedish Embassy and the cartoon was actually published in a Danish newspaper, before rushing into the Danish Embassy with your sword and setting fire to a home made Danish flag, once again threatening decapitation to anyone who has any connection with the cartoon at all.

8) You are getting sick and fed up of constantly hearing people who know nothing about your faith, referring to Islam as a religion of violence and hatred. How would you go about disproving these beliefs?
a. Write an eloquent disclaimer in the letters page of The Times, littering your missive with many excellent quotes and references.
b. Appear on a TV chat show and prove what a calm measured person you are by laughing off these criticisms and giving a proper idea of what Islam is all about.
c. Hijack several aircraft full of terrified innocent people and crash them into a skyscraper, which then collapses killing thousands of people in the process.

9) Another suicide bomber has killed hundreds of innocent people and in recently broadcast video footage on Al Jazeera TV he is seen claiming he did this as an act of martyrdom in the name of Islam. The World and Middle East situation changes not one jot. How do you react?
a. Feel depressed that another young life has been wasted for no reason whatsoever.
b. Read the news avidly to see if anything happens.
c. Run out onto the street brandishing AK47’s, pictures of the dead man and copies of the Koran. Then dress your two year old son up as a pretend suicide bomber and parade the terrified looking child up and down in front of the baying mob of lunatics.

10) Another high profile western politician or journalist has written an item in a newspaper condemning Islam as a religion of hatred and violence. Hatred and violence erupt all over the Muslim world with people blowing up Western owned hotels and newspapers, unfortunately proving once and for all that the politician/journalist was right. How do you react?
a. Condemn the rioters as not being indicative of your average Muslim.
b. Condemn the author of the offending article for being insensitive to Muslims.
c. Say very calmly and collectedly that all faiths should just sit down together and have a dialogue so that this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. And when it does, then go on a huge and bloody rampage through a street somewhere demanding various people be beheaded for suggesting that Islam is about violence and hatred. (Continued forever)

So how did you get on? Check your answers here!

· If you answered mainly A’s then you are nothing more than a shivering infidel not worthy of shining the Prophet’s sandals and should therefore nip off and behead yourself immediately.
· If you answered mainly B’s then you are probably a sympathetic ear for any Muslim in this troubled world, but unfortunately as an unbeliever you are not worthy of being in the same room as a true follower of Islam and you are an infidel. So you’d better just nip off and behead yourself to save time.
· If you answered mainly C’s, then Allah be praised! You are a true Islamic Fundamentalist lunatic! Strap some more explosives on and head downtown to be amongst the unholy and let the evening go with a bang! You deserve it!


What sort of Muslim are you? Sunni or Shia? Who cares, you’ll be blowing each other up anyway! Bye!

Being a Manchester City fan.

I knew what would happen tonight. I just knew. Even about a week ago I knew what the result was going to be. As soon as Manchester City were paired up with Chesterfield in the "Whatever Name We Are Giving the League Cup This Season" Cup, I just knew that we would lose. It is what you come to expect after over 30 years as a fan.
I am not from Manchester and have only visited the City on a few occasions in my life, but I became a true blue fan in the early 70's from watching such genius' like Colin Bell, Francis Lee, Mike Sumerbee, Neil Young, Joe Corrigan and so many other legends of the game performing for the Sky Blues and actually winning silverware. Since 1976 the Mancester City trophy cabinet has been as empty as a hermit's address book. But still I follow, still I hope, still I yearn that one day we will rise again to the dizzy heights enjoyed by Joe Mercer and Malcolm Allison's reign as Manager and Coach. But nights, like tonight, really stretch your loyalty to it's very limits.
I think what pisses me off more than anything else is the crushing inevitability of it all. We were so obviously going to lose to Chesterfield this evening that we might has well have sent a telegram to the management of Chesterfield FC and just said something like "clearly you are going to stuff us, so we won't bother popping over this evening, we'll just sit in and have a cup of cocoa and an early night."
I personally have nothing against Stuart Pearce as a human being and as a footballer. One of the greatest left backs this country has ever produced and one of the hardest men ever to have played professiona football. But a manager...? I am beginning to have my doubts. After his initial honeymoon period, when City won a few games and people even began talking him up as a possible future England manager, things have gone from bad, to worse, to awful, to fucking dreadful. The one game we have won this season, at home to Arsenal, was the luckiest win you have ever seen. They pulverised us! They should have stuck about seven past us. But with Arsenal seemingly intent on actually walking the ball into our net, we rode our luck and got away with it. But not since. We needed someone like Martin O'Neill in charge. About the only bright spot of last season's woeful campaign was the early season goalscoring of the evergreen Andy Cole. Now, I know he was an ex-rag and almost due to draw his pension, but he had guile and he knew where the back of the net was. So why did we let him go off to Harry Redknapp's south coast pensioners club where all he is going to do there is warm the bench every week? Who have we got up front now? Paul Dickov. For Christ's sake. Paul Dickov used to struggle to score for us when we were in the old Second Division, why have we got him now when he is clearly past whatever peak he might have had, and couldn't hit the backside of a cow with a banjo? Darius Vassell? Darius "toe-poke-Tom" Vassell, quick, direct, unaware of anyone around him and stupid. Bernardo Corradi? Has failed to score or set the world alight wherever he has played, so he should fit in a treat at Eastlands. Georgios Samaras. I have a grudging respect for Samaras, not particularly for his footballing skills, but anyone prepared to walk around Manchester with that sort of hair cut must be a tough man.
We need some things urgently:
  1. A defender. The last decent commanding central defender we had was Daniel van Buyten, but Kevin Keegan elected to let him go back to Hamburg and replaced him with...? Ben Thatcher. Enough said really.
  2. A creative midfielder. We haven't had someone who can unlock an opposing team's defence since Ali Benarbia took his walking frame and false teeth off to the footballer's graveyard of Qatar.
  3. A striker. Someone like Andy Cole. Someone who knows where the back of the net is and has more than one brain cell.
  4. Another manager. Sorry Stuart. You are a lovely lovely man, but you are out of your depth and sinking fast.

One of my favourite stories involving a City fan and the depths to which we are taken by this club, was of some years back, when City were skulking in the depths of the old 2nd Dvision. We played Stockport County at Maine Road and were getting caned 2-0. A third Stockport goal finished the match and there was a minor pitch invasion by disgruntled City fans. One man, throughly sickened by what he was watching, marched across the pitch, stood in front of the Directors box, took his season ticket from his pocket, tore it up in a very theatrical way and threw it to the turf, before storming out the ground vowing never to return. Two days later, through the post an anonymous letter arrives at this City fan's house. Inside is his season ticket, lovingly selotaped back together with a note attached reading: "If we have to suffer it, so do you!"

I am thoroughly sick and tired of supporting Manchester City and I would like them confined to Room 101 so I can get on with my life and support another team that might do well for a change. Like fucking Chesterfield.