Yes, and yes
Glimpsed Come Dine with Me looking in
to warn BLISS that the football was starting last night. There was a
woman. Wearing a hat. Indoors. With a feather stuck in it.
“Is it fancy dress, or is she
stupid.” I said.
“It's fancy dress. And they're all
stupid.” Heh.
Advent calendar music
8th December: James Brown –
Soulful Christmas
9th December: Lou Baxter –
Merry Christmas Baby
10th December: Clarence
Carter – Back Door Santa, with the “I carry a mean sack” line
11th December: Chuck Berry –
Run Run Rudolph
12th December: Louis
Armstrong – Is that you, Santa Claus?
Come and See
A disturbing, fascinatingly graphic
film about the Russian resistance during WWII. Seen from the point of
view of a young boy who volunteers, and is recruited because he
happens to find a rifle that's in working order.
To say he has a time of it is a huge
understatement. Apparently the German forces raised 626 Belarussian
villages, and almost all of their inhabitants, too.
About last night...
...apparently, that wasn't embarrassing
for Arsenal.
Here's the thing:
Their goal can
from a free kick. Conceded near the corner flag, when Hill 'megged
the Verminator and got body-checked. The ball to Hill came from their
'keeper, kicking from his hands. That ball had to travel about 80
yards, without anyone in an Arsenal shirt doing anything about it.
Either their 'keeper is a passing genius wasted between the sticks in
the bottom division, or the defending was naive and lazy.
The miss from
Gervinho is unbelievable. There's links to it all over the place
today, and there's a frame from it showing him, the ball in easy
reach, and an absolutely open goal about four yards away. You'd back
a centre half trying to clear to score from there.
Our manager:
Chamakh (about
one o'clock): am I starting boss? I usually start the CoC games.
Arsene: nope.
We're going with the fall-overy bloke with the large, misshapen head.
I know he's a wide player really, but you're so rubbish even he's
better than you.
Arsene (about
nine thirty): on you go Marouane, get us a goal, we rate you as a
player, honest.
Arsene (about
ten fifteen): second penno Marouane, cheers, good lad. Look, I know
you got twenty minutes plus extra time, had a 'mare, copped a massive
ticking off from a teenage player after your millionth misplaced
pass, but, hey, you still got it, eh champ?
Arsene (about
ten thirty): oh, hi Sir Alex. Theo? How much? (Examines the
spreadsheet, which takes absolute priority over the teamsheet). Yeah,
you're on. No probs. Cheers.
Arsene (thinks):
£7.5m / year for winning ziltch. Money for old bus tickets. Why
would I consider leaving?
The CEO (Ivor
Gazumper) and the board: (in chorous) football? Whadda we know?
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