Harry: Mwa ha ha ha haaaa! I have done it Jamie, I have worked out how to create the perfect player. Come, Jamie, to the laboratory.
Jamie: Yes dad.
Harry: How many times have I told you, when I'm in mad scientist mode refer to me as master. And lisp more.
Jamie: Yeth marthter.
Harry: That's better. You could try hunching your back more though. Now to create the perfect footballer I have had to scavenge graveyards to get the perfect body parts. I warn you the resulting player will be a grotesque, hideous beast.
Jamie: You're creating him in your own image then, marthter?
Harry: Yes. No, wait. Don't be so cheeky.
Jamie: Thorry marthter.
Harry: Now before I can bring my composite footballer to life first I must brew the essence of footballing genius. Pass me the contents of that jar marked 'perfect player juice'.
Jamie: I can't get the perfect player juith out, Marthter.
Harry: Tap it up, Jamie. Tap it up.
Jamie: It'th coming now, Marthter. Where do you want it?
Harry: Pour it in to this test tube. Now all I need is to shake it up. Where's one of those stopper things you put in the top of the tube?
Jamie: Do you mean a bu-
Harry: Don't say that word!
Jamie: What? Bun-
Harry: Shh! You know we don't use the b word here Jamie, now where are those stoppers?
Jamie: Over in thith nondescript brown paper bag marthter.
Harry: Thank you Jamie. Now to pour it in to the player's mouth. Mwa ha haa haaa haaaa! It's working, it's alive!
Jamie: It lookth like Darren Bent, marthter.
Harry: Bother. I'll just go and buy Robbie Keane back.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
Thursday, 22 January 2009
Ronaldo's Kebab Shop
Hello peeps! I am Cristianopolus Ronaldopolus and I run the finest kebabery in the whole of the world. Yes is true.
Some people say Messiopolus in Spain run a better kebaby shop. But when he cooks I think there is flash in the pan.
The problem is people do not respect my kebabs because I make them in Manchester. But every week I have thousands of people travel from Guilford and Staines and Suffolk and Home Counties to eat my Kebab. But no one from Manchester eat my kebab. They all prefer Elanopolus Kebabs across town.
But people in Europe do not like my kebabs. So I is thinking I will move to Spain and set up my kebab shop across the road from Messiopolus and prove I am best kebaby maker.
But what about all the people in England who love my kebabs? Who have made my kebabs famous? I do not care about them. I only care about my kebabs. In Spain I can charge much more for my kebabs and everyone will acknowledge that I am world's best kebaby. Silly people who eat my kebabs now are like nothing to me. Anyway I hear they used to eat Beckham's Prawny Sandwiches before I came and once I've gone they'll probably try out Nani's Falafels. But trust me they are inferior products.
But if I cannot set up a kebab shop in Spain I will tell those funny southerners that appear to be made of plastic who love my shop that I was never going to make kebabs in Spain. Oh no I tell them I only make kebabs for Englishers.
But behind doors which are closed I will weep tears of kebab-related woe into my mummy's pinafore. She knows that it has always been my dream to make kebabs in Spain. Oh mother! Why I choose to make kebabs in England? No one will ever believe I is best kebaby man in world while I make kebabs for people who think Darren Fletcher's Haggis is edible.
Some people say Messiopolus in Spain run a better kebaby shop. But when he cooks I think there is flash in the pan.
The problem is people do not respect my kebabs because I make them in Manchester. But every week I have thousands of people travel from Guilford and Staines and Suffolk and Home Counties to eat my Kebab. But no one from Manchester eat my kebab. They all prefer Elanopolus Kebabs across town.
But people in Europe do not like my kebabs. So I is thinking I will move to Spain and set up my kebab shop across the road from Messiopolus and prove I am best kebaby maker.
But what about all the people in England who love my kebabs? Who have made my kebabs famous? I do not care about them. I only care about my kebabs. In Spain I can charge much more for my kebabs and everyone will acknowledge that I am world's best kebaby. Silly people who eat my kebabs now are like nothing to me. Anyway I hear they used to eat Beckham's Prawny Sandwiches before I came and once I've gone they'll probably try out Nani's Falafels. But trust me they are inferior products.
But if I cannot set up a kebab shop in Spain I will tell those funny southerners that appear to be made of plastic who love my shop that I was never going to make kebabs in Spain. Oh no I tell them I only make kebabs for Englishers.
But behind doors which are closed I will weep tears of kebab-related woe into my mummy's pinafore. She knows that it has always been my dream to make kebabs in Spain. Oh mother! Why I choose to make kebabs in England? No one will ever believe I is best kebaby man in world while I make kebabs for people who think Darren Fletcher's Haggis is edible.
Big Phil's Holiday
Arsenal's permanently worried looking polymath, Phillipe Senderos, is as we all know a serial diarist. The following is an excerpt from his time on a caravaning holiday with Alexander Hleb.
28th June: Today was the first day of our holiday to Devon. Just me, Alex and Clarabel my trusty caravan. Alex arrived at my house at 6 o'clock this morning so we could get an early start. I wanted to get out the road before there was too much traffic. It's been a while since I took Clarabel out so I was a little nervous. I was fine after a while though it just took me a bit of time to get my confidence up.
29th June: The problem with Clarabel is that she is only a 2 berth so Alex and I have to sleep rather close to each other. Boy does Alex dribble! Dribble, dribble, dribble. I'm beginning to think that's all he does.
30th June: There's not a lot to do on the caravan site so me and Alex went for a walk along the coast. Alex kept on going up these winding paths that led nowhere. Whereas I was all at sea for prolonged periods and without Kolo or William to rescue me. Then I lost Alex. I thought he'd gone to get ice cream but he insists he didn't.
1st July: Pinch, punch, first of the month. I decided not to pinch or punch Alex, I once did that to Robin Van Persie and he was in hospital for 6 weeks. Getting a bit bored in the caravan now. I tried to have a chat with Alex by asking him what his goals in life are. "Goals?" He replied. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."
2nd July: We went to Torquay today. But Alex didn't like it. He said all the arcades and surf shops were to noisy for him. I found an old arcade game called Outrun. Alex told me that it was a good choice as I was always getting out run. I didn't get it.
3rd July: Had an argument with Alex. He said he never wanted to come to Devon in the first place. He thought we should have gone to Barcelona. I told him to sod off there if thats how he feels. And now he's gone off in a sulk. I don't know where he's gone. I can't make up my mind if I'd prefer him to come back or just go to Spain. Maybe I should phone Emmanuel Adebayor he's a man who can always make up his mind.
Tuesday, 30 December 2008
The Glory Hunters: Europe 8 Review
(First published on 606 in July 08)
This is the Evergreen Forest. Quiet, peaceful, serene. That is, until Bert Raccoon wakes up! No wait. Previously on The Glory Hunters: Clive Chives and Tarquin meet up on a weekly basis in the Slug and Lettuce to discuss football. Clive is a Man Utd 'fan' and Tarquin supported Arsenal but due to lack of success is looking for a new club. Clive is under the strange delusion that the Czech barmaid Karina fancies him. They have both just returned from their holidays.
Clive: Hello Tarquin my old chummer, how was the holiday?
Tarquin: Oh wonderful, I spent a week in Portugal. A lovely place, don't think they go in for the old ball of footy much though.
Clive: I can't think of any Portuguese players that's for sure. Spain, where I went, on the other hand has produced many great players. Ronaldo, Beckham...erm...that bloke from Fawlty Towers...
Karina: Hello, did I hear you went to Spain? The celebrations must have been incredible.
Clive: They were, I hit a hole in one on a par three dog-leg to the right. Sweetest shot of my life. I threw my nine iron so far in the air that I nearly killed a low flying seagull. Surprised you heard about it here though. I suppose I did phone all my chummers at the golf club to tell them about it. So, little lady, my polish lovely, do you like golf?
Karina: I am from Czech Republic. And no I don't like golf. I think it is a sport for men who cannot do sport. Do you want drinks?
Tarquin: Well I say! Clive and I are sportsmen of the highest order. Big football supporter-fans too. I support Ars...er...well...er...I'll have a bottle of Heineken please.
Clive: Heineken? What's that?
Tarquin: I had it on holiday I think it must be a Portuguese beer.
Clive: Make it two then. Still not found a club to support then?
Tarquin: No, after Holland dropped out of Europe 8 I've decided to take a bit more time before I choose my team. You can't be too careful.
Clive: You could always join me as a Man Utd fan.
Tarquin: But then how could we discuss whose team has the better players? Do you remember a couple of years back we had those brilliant chats over who was better Keade or Vieriarea?
Clive: Ah yes, those were the days my chummer. Those were the days.
This is the Evergreen Forest. Quiet, peaceful, serene. That is, until Bert Raccoon wakes up! No wait. Previously on The Glory Hunters: Clive Chives and Tarquin meet up on a weekly basis in the Slug and Lettuce to discuss football. Clive is a Man Utd 'fan' and Tarquin supported Arsenal but due to lack of success is looking for a new club. Clive is under the strange delusion that the Czech barmaid Karina fancies him. They have both just returned from their holidays.
Clive: Hello Tarquin my old chummer, how was the holiday?
Tarquin: Oh wonderful, I spent a week in Portugal. A lovely place, don't think they go in for the old ball of footy much though.
Clive: I can't think of any Portuguese players that's for sure. Spain, where I went, on the other hand has produced many great players. Ronaldo, Beckham...erm...that bloke from Fawlty Towers...
Karina: Hello, did I hear you went to Spain? The celebrations must have been incredible.
Clive: They were, I hit a hole in one on a par three dog-leg to the right. Sweetest shot of my life. I threw my nine iron so far in the air that I nearly killed a low flying seagull. Surprised you heard about it here though. I suppose I did phone all my chummers at the golf club to tell them about it. So, little lady, my polish lovely, do you like golf?
Karina: I am from Czech Republic. And no I don't like golf. I think it is a sport for men who cannot do sport. Do you want drinks?
Tarquin: Well I say! Clive and I are sportsmen of the highest order. Big football supporter-fans too. I support Ars...er...well...er...I'll have a bottle of Heineken please.
Clive: Heineken? What's that?
Tarquin: I had it on holiday I think it must be a Portuguese beer.
Clive: Make it two then. Still not found a club to support then?
Tarquin: No, after Holland dropped out of Europe 8 I've decided to take a bit more time before I choose my team. You can't be too careful.
Clive: You could always join me as a Man Utd fan.
Tarquin: But then how could we discuss whose team has the better players? Do you remember a couple of years back we had those brilliant chats over who was better Keade or Vieriarea?
Clive: Ah yes, those were the days my chummer. Those were the days.
Wednesday, 10 December 2008
Big Phil's Motorcycle Diaries
(First posted on 606 on 27/06/08)
Tired of being 3rd choice centre back at Arsenal Phillipe Senderos decides to take some time off to travel across South America on his trusty Norton. He is joined on his journey by Emmanuel Eboue. Here is an extract from his diary.
3rd June
I flew into Buenos Aires today. The flight was horrific. I hate flying. I'm a big chap but I'm really not that good in the air.Thank God Emmanuel was with me. He's great company and he knows all the correct procedures if the plane goes into a dive.
4th June
We set off today out into the countryside on our Nortons. Emmanuel has never ridden a motorbike before but he says that he's very adaptable so he'll pick it up in no time.
5th June
Spent most of today in a roadside garage. Eboue hasn't mastered the bike at all yet. He keeps getting on going full speed ahead, looks like he knows what he's doing and then it all goes wrong and the bike breaks down. It's very frustrating.
6th June
We set off again this morning and now we're lost. I checked our position on the map but somehow we've drifted out of that position. I knew I should've brought my sat nav. Or at least had William or Kolo here they'd be able to tell me where I should be.
7th June
Eboue is really getting on my nerves. Every time we come to a village the local people run out to see us. They all want to touch us as we drive by but Eboue barely gets brushed by one of them and he falls off his bike. And then he writhes around on the floor for ages clutching his head. I keep telling him to wear a helmet. He does seem to recover quickly though.
8th June
Drove into Buenos Aires again. Not sure how that happened. I seem to have come full circle, every time I feel things are going ok, I'm building up my confidence on the bike I stop for the night and then I have to start again. Potentially I reckon I can get across South America but I don't think this stop start approach is the way for me. I've told Emmanuel to go home, it's obvious he'll never get the hang of riding a bike.
Tired of being 3rd choice centre back at Arsenal Phillipe Senderos decides to take some time off to travel across South America on his trusty Norton. He is joined on his journey by Emmanuel Eboue. Here is an extract from his diary.
3rd June
I flew into Buenos Aires today. The flight was horrific. I hate flying. I'm a big chap but I'm really not that good in the air.Thank God Emmanuel was with me. He's great company and he knows all the correct procedures if the plane goes into a dive.
4th June
We set off today out into the countryside on our Nortons. Emmanuel has never ridden a motorbike before but he says that he's very adaptable so he'll pick it up in no time.
5th June
Spent most of today in a roadside garage. Eboue hasn't mastered the bike at all yet. He keeps getting on going full speed ahead, looks like he knows what he's doing and then it all goes wrong and the bike breaks down. It's very frustrating.
6th June
We set off again this morning and now we're lost. I checked our position on the map but somehow we've drifted out of that position. I knew I should've brought my sat nav. Or at least had William or Kolo here they'd be able to tell me where I should be.
7th June
Eboue is really getting on my nerves. Every time we come to a village the local people run out to see us. They all want to touch us as we drive by but Eboue barely gets brushed by one of them and he falls off his bike. And then he writhes around on the floor for ages clutching his head. I keep telling him to wear a helmet. He does seem to recover quickly though.
8th June
Drove into Buenos Aires again. Not sure how that happened. I seem to have come full circle, every time I feel things are going ok, I'm building up my confidence on the bike I stop for the night and then I have to start again. Potentially I reckon I can get across South America but I don't think this stop start approach is the way for me. I've told Emmanuel to go home, it's obvious he'll never get the hang of riding a bike.
Monday, 8 December 2008
The Glory Hunters: Latecomer
Previously on The Glory Hunters: Clive Chives, a Man Utd 'fan' since 1999 and Tarquin, nominally an Arsenal supporter but looking elsewhere due to a lack of trophies meet up every week at the Slug and Lettuce to discuss football.
Clive: Hmmm, where's Tarquin? He's usually here by now. Hope he turns up soon I'm looking like a Billy-no-chummers right now. Better get a drink. Erm...barmaid, service please.
Karina: Hello, what can I get you?
Clive: Oh, er...I don't know, Tarquin usually chooses. Erm...a Campari top please. No, wait. A Becks, that's what I meant. A Becks.
Karina: Ok. Anything else?
Clive: Well...have you got time for a chat? So, er you're from Poland then?
Karina: No. I am from Czech Republic.
Clive: Ah the old Czechoslovakia eh? Jolly good. So...er...do they play the old footy out there?
Karina: Yes. We have produced many great players, Pavel Nedved, Petr Cech, Karel Poborsky, Tomas Rosicky...
Clive: Well, yes. I'm sure if you keep at it soon they'll make it to the old Premship.
Karina: You aren't a football fan, no?
Clive: I'm a big fan of the old ball...game...foot...ball thing. I support Manchester United.
Karina: Ah I see.
Clive: What?
Karina: I have friend from Salford, she is also Man United fan. She say there are many what she call plastic fans who have never even been to Old Trafford.
Clive: Salford? Where's that? I've been to Old Trafford. I was in Manchester on business and I passed it on my way to the conference centre from the airport.
Karina: Yes. Oh look here comes your boyfriend.
Clive: My what? Oh Tarquin! No, he's not my boyfriend I'm totally straight. I have a wife and a poodle. Lord Paw-Paw. I have a photo somewhere.
Tarquin: Hello chummer, sorry I'm late.
Clive: Where have you been?
Tarquin: Well I was getting fed up not having a team to support so I thought I'd bite the bullet and choose Holland. So I went out and bought some orange ties. Then I thought I haven't really got any shirts to go with orange so I bought some new shirts too. And then I thought I better get a new suit as well. Then Holland go and blooming well lose so I've been round all the shops returning everything I bought.
Clive: Nightmare old chummer. I've just been chatting up the old Polish sort with the lovely bottom. No wait, Czechoslovakish, that's it.
Tarquin: How did it go?
Clive: Pretty good. I convinced her I wasn't gay and everything.
Tarquin: Top chummer! You're in there!
Clive: I think I am. Fancy a drink?
Tarquin: Campari top please.
Clive: Hmmm, where's Tarquin? He's usually here by now. Hope he turns up soon I'm looking like a Billy-no-chummers right now. Better get a drink. Erm...barmaid, service please.
Karina: Hello, what can I get you?
Clive: Oh, er...I don't know, Tarquin usually chooses. Erm...a Campari top please. No, wait. A Becks, that's what I meant. A Becks.
Karina: Ok. Anything else?
Clive: Well...have you got time for a chat? So, er you're from Poland then?
Karina: No. I am from Czech Republic.
Clive: Ah the old Czechoslovakia eh? Jolly good. So...er...do they play the old footy out there?
Karina: Yes. We have produced many great players, Pavel Nedved, Petr Cech, Karel Poborsky, Tomas Rosicky...
Clive: Well, yes. I'm sure if you keep at it soon they'll make it to the old Premship.
Karina: You aren't a football fan, no?
Clive: I'm a big fan of the old ball...game...foot...ball thing. I support Manchester United.
Karina: Ah I see.
Clive: What?
Karina: I have friend from Salford, she is also Man United fan. She say there are many what she call plastic fans who have never even been to Old Trafford.
Clive: Salford? Where's that? I've been to Old Trafford. I was in Manchester on business and I passed it on my way to the conference centre from the airport.
Karina: Yes. Oh look here comes your boyfriend.
Clive: My what? Oh Tarquin! No, he's not my boyfriend I'm totally straight. I have a wife and a poodle. Lord Paw-Paw. I have a photo somewhere.
Tarquin: Hello chummer, sorry I'm late.
Clive: Where have you been?
Tarquin: Well I was getting fed up not having a team to support so I thought I'd bite the bullet and choose Holland. So I went out and bought some orange ties. Then I thought I haven't really got any shirts to go with orange so I bought some new shirts too. And then I thought I better get a new suit as well. Then Holland go and blooming well lose so I've been round all the shops returning everything I bought.
Clive: Nightmare old chummer. I've just been chatting up the old Polish sort with the lovely bottom. No wait, Czechoslovakish, that's it.
Tarquin: How did it go?
Clive: Pretty good. I convinced her I wasn't gay and everything.
Tarquin: Top chummer! You're in there!
Clive: I think I am. Fancy a drink?
Tarquin: Campari top please.
Monday, 1 December 2008
The Glory Hunters: Favourite Players
Previously on The Glory Hunters: Clive Chives, a Man Utd 'fan' since 1999 and Tarquin, an Arsenal supporter who is looking elsewhere for glory meet every week in the Slug and Lettuce to sip beer and discuss football.
Clive: Hello Tarquin, what are you drinking this week?
Tarquin: I'll have a Hoegaarden please.
Clive: A what?
Tarquin: A Hoegaarden. I overheard a couple of my chummers at the golf club talking about it and thought I better give it a go so I can join in their chat next time.
Clive: Sound reasoning. Two Hoegaardens it is then.
Tarquin: So have you watched any footy ball this week?
Clive: Well I took Lord Paw-Paw, my poodle, out for a walk last week and he took a piddle by Dixons. So I caught a bit of the football on one of their display tellys. I couldn't believe my eyes, Ronaldo appears to have signed for Portugal.
Tarquin: So all the transfer rumours were true then?
Clive: There were transfer rumours?
Tarquin: You must be very upset.
Clive: I know, he was my favourite player. Now I'm going to have to learn another players name.
Tarquin: That is difficult for any footsy ball supporter like yourself. I had the same problem when Arsenal sold Thierra Onree.
Clive: What did you do about it?
Tarquin: I chose Sex Faberydab as my new favourite player.
Clive: Is he good then?
Tarquin: Oh yes. He's probably one of the best at footing the ball I've ever nearly seen on Match of the Day. I hope he signs for whoever I choose to support next.
Clive: Yes it is hard to support a team when your favourite player isn't part of the team. I nearly went to support Real Madrid after David Beckham left.
Tarquin: Ah David Beckham. If only he played for Arsenal. Then I'd never look for another team. Has Beckham been playing in that Europe 8 thingy?
Clive: I imagine so. I'm sure Spain or someone would have snapped him up for that tournament.
Tarquin: I imagine they would. This Hoegaarden is horrible! Do you think the Polish sort with the lovely bottom will put a bit of lemonade in it for me?
Clive: Any excuse to talk to the Polish sort eh? Top chummer! Can't say I blame you though, this Hoegaarden stuff is foul.
Clive: Hello Tarquin, what are you drinking this week?
Tarquin: I'll have a Hoegaarden please.
Clive: A what?
Tarquin: A Hoegaarden. I overheard a couple of my chummers at the golf club talking about it and thought I better give it a go so I can join in their chat next time.
Clive: Sound reasoning. Two Hoegaardens it is then.
Tarquin: So have you watched any footy ball this week?
Clive: Well I took Lord Paw-Paw, my poodle, out for a walk last week and he took a piddle by Dixons. So I caught a bit of the football on one of their display tellys. I couldn't believe my eyes, Ronaldo appears to have signed for Portugal.
Tarquin: So all the transfer rumours were true then?
Clive: There were transfer rumours?
Tarquin: You must be very upset.
Clive: I know, he was my favourite player. Now I'm going to have to learn another players name.
Tarquin: That is difficult for any footsy ball supporter like yourself. I had the same problem when Arsenal sold Thierra Onree.
Clive: What did you do about it?
Tarquin: I chose Sex Faberydab as my new favourite player.
Clive: Is he good then?
Tarquin: Oh yes. He's probably one of the best at footing the ball I've ever nearly seen on Match of the Day. I hope he signs for whoever I choose to support next.
Clive: Yes it is hard to support a team when your favourite player isn't part of the team. I nearly went to support Real Madrid after David Beckham left.
Tarquin: Ah David Beckham. If only he played for Arsenal. Then I'd never look for another team. Has Beckham been playing in that Europe 8 thingy?
Clive: I imagine so. I'm sure Spain or someone would have snapped him up for that tournament.
Tarquin: I imagine they would. This Hoegaarden is horrible! Do you think the Polish sort with the lovely bottom will put a bit of lemonade in it for me?
Clive: Any excuse to talk to the Polish sort eh? Top chummer! Can't say I blame you though, this Hoegaarden stuff is foul.
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