Proving that top footballers are often not very clever…..

While having my morning toast and reading the news on the internet I found this about top international footballer Ronaldo. 

 

It amused me for several reasons. Firstly because one of the cross dressing hookers he picked up was this character:

 

Now I don't know about you but if I was a top flight international footballer earning a six figure salary per week and I was wanting to spend some of my not-so-hard-earned cash on a bonk I'd be looking for something a little classier and more attractive than this. Nothing says 'bloke' like a big pair of hands and that's what this chap is sporting. If Mr Ronaldo had just dropped his girlfriend off then I presume he wasn't pissed and if he wasn't pissed then there's no excuse for missing the fact that 'Andre' looks like what he is – a man in a dress.

 

The other thing that tickled me was this:

The three-time Fifa world footballer of the year is in Brazil recovering from knee surgery.

He told police he was having some psychological problems linked to his injury.

 Since when was knee surgery linked to hiring three burly blokes in dresses for a shag? If that piss poor excuse is the best he can do he'd be better keeping his trap shut until someone else takes the heat off him by doing something spectacularly stupid.

My but the folks on the terraces are going to have some fun with this one. I hope he's thick skinned because I guarantee that by the time he next plays a game the opposition fans are going to have at least 15 different rhymes about cross dressing prostitutes to sing at him. And I hope he's better at grovelling than he is at making excuses because otherwise he's going to be single before the week is out.

What a complete and utter pillock.

 

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Tuesday’s Thoughts

Once again Tuesday rolls around and it's time to let the world know what is good and bad in my universe:

 

The Bad

  • The price of fuel. Seriously, it's mental. It'd be cheaper to fill my car with molton gems than unleaded petrol. Still, according to the government we should all be grateful that it costs so fucking much to fill the car because we have contributed to the 48% profit increase recorded by BP this quarter and apparently this is a good thing. I tried (and failed) to work out how so I looked it up. Apparently it's something to do with big companies propping up the pensions industry. This pissed me off for 3 reasons: 1 – If Gordon Brown hadn't plundered the pensions industry we wouldn't be relying on the exceedingly fat cats of BP to prop us up, 2 – MPs have a massive non contributory pension and I'm willing to bet that they can put fuel on their expenses, this makes it a bloody cheek to expect me to grateful for massive fuel price hikes that are going to fund their gold plated retirement at 60, 3 – If we weren't being taxed until our pips squeak we might be able to afford to actually save some money for old age, making the contribution of oil giants unneccessary.
  • Another person has been attacked on the Manchester trams, this time for asking some youths to stop throwing popcorn at her face. Little scrotes.
  • The bosses have seen fit to install airconditioning into the rooms that house the servers for the building. However they did not see fit to install it in the offices so it looks like we're staring down the barrel of a 40 degree summer again. Perhaps I should point out them that having functioning computers is only any use if the staff using them are also functioning.

The Good

  • It's a bank holiday this weekend. If there's one thing I love it's a long weekend and a 4 day week.
  • I went riding last night and had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with 'Irish Distinction', an ex racehorse coming back into work from a tendon injury. He is absolutely gorgeous and because he's racehorse trained has a bizarre habit of bobbing straight into canter from walk if you pick up the reins. The only bad thing was that there had been a cock up on the bookings so I was in with 3 other people, one of whom spent most of the time sitting on his horse in the middle of the track, getting in the way and complaining about how knackering riding was. I do agree, riding is knackering but only is you actually encourage movement from the beast, otherwise you are essentially sitting on a tall, furry sofa is which is not even remotely tiring.
  • It's sunny and I've been paid. All is currently right with the world.

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I can’t believe no one noticed….

The Office of Government Commerce is a department created at the start of Tony Blair's stint in charge and its job is “improving value for money by driving up standards and capability in procurement”. They wanted a new logo so shelled out £14 000 to some design outfit or other to create one. They came up with this:

 

Ok. Fair enough. So they proudly began to have the new logo printed onto pens and mousemats and got them distributed around the various offices. Then somebody noticed that if you rotate the logo through 90 degrees, as would happen if you were using a pen with it on, it looked like this:

 

 

Oh dear.

 

Does anyone see a kind of delicious irony in a government department set up to promote wiser spending throughout government spending £14 000 on a logo that declares them all to be wankers? It certainly tickled me. So to speak.

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Bad Motoring Week

This week is proving to be a bad motoring week, thanks to other people. The two people I am holding particularly responsible for this week's gripes are:

 

Mr 'Dirty Thieving crack-rat'

It's 2am, I'm asleep and suddenly I'm woken up by the dog going off his nut. So I get up and go downstairs to see what he's shouting about. Suprisingly the front door is open and peering sleepily through the glass at the top like a myopic mole I notice that my husband is standing in the middle of the road, phone clutched to ear, making wild arm gestures. Even through I am not at my best when woken suddenly I realise that this is not a normal state of affairs. So, I pull on Micah's dress coat and a pair of trainers (I'm nothing if not stylish) and head out into the frost to find out what's going on. What is going on is that some thieving little scrotum-dweller has decided that because there is a water bottle, loo roll, risk assessment on excavations and old petrol receipt in the front of the car then it is obviously a treasure trove of highly saleable goods and has entered the vehicle, via the space where the driver's window was before he smashed it to have a nosy. Now I'm all for private enterprise but not when it involves breaking my window and attempting to liberate my belongings. So we phone the police, who surprisingly turn up and have a wander  round the neighbourhood. It must have been a quiet night down the station. Then we call the insurance people, then the glass replacement people. At 5am a nice Scouser had finished filling the hole with perspex to make the car usable until the glass people could replace it properly and I was £75 worse off. And I started work at 8am. Imagine my delight. If these little shitsters want to have money and feed their crack habit, why the bloody hell can't they get off their fat, lazy chav arses and get a job like everyone else. If I have to work to afford wine then I don't see why they shouldn't work to afford smack. Just because I'm middle class does not mean it is acceptable for the scumlords to have a free for all on my stuff. If I find out who it was I will extract my £75 from them if I have to sell their vital organs on Ebay to do it.

 

Mr 'I Own the Road'

Ok, imagine the scene: You're driving down a narrow 2 lane suburban road. Your side is clear but there is a car parked on the other side. Coming towards you is a man in a BMW 4×4 (and no, I don't know why you'd need a 4×4 in a Manchester suburb when the Top Gear lads have proved that you can cross the African Plains in a 25 year old Opel). What would you expect to happen? What I expected was for the man in the BMW 4×4 to slow down and stop while I passed the car that was parked on his side, then when I was clear, for him to pull out around the parked vehicle. Imagine my surprise when this didn't happen. What actually happened was that as I drove past the car, he pulled straight out into the middle of the road, forcing me onto the pavement and smirked as he went past. Incandescent doesn't even start to describe my anger. So I pulled over, opened the window and bellowed 'wanker' as loudly as I could at his car. I know he heard me, his window was open. Unfortunately half of the estate, several passersby and the woman who lives 2 doors down from my parents also heard me so it's now probably going round the area that I am a mentally unstable lunatic with anger management problems and Tourettes. What the hell is wrong with these tossers in 4x4s? It isn't even the first time I've been run off the road by one. Just because his sodding car is bigger and more expensive than mine does not mean that the rules of the road are altered. Honestly, what a complete wanker.

 

As these things come in threes I'm not looking forward to whatever the next motoring disaster is going to be. Watch this space.  

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Weirdo of the Week

I'm thinking of making this a weekly thing and ripping apart one particular individual for something stupid each Friday, mainly as I'm usually grumpy by Friday lunchtime because the day is dragging. So, the recipient of my very first "Weirdo of the Week" award goes to………

 

 

The charming Robert Mugabe

For his speech on the entertainingly named 'Independence Day' in Zimbabwe. Now to be fair to Mr Mugabe, he doesn't reserve being a mental case just for Fridays, no, Robbie is a prize winning nutjob every day of the week but today's public offerings from the man who managed to create a poverty stricken hellpit where once there was prosperity are particularly special. A few of the highlights included:

"Down with the British. Down with thieves who want to steal our country," Why in the wide world of sport would the British want to steal Zimbabwe? It's worth less than my first car which was a 12 year old Nissan Micra. Its interest rates are roughly 100000% and you have to pay for a packet of cigs using a wheelbarrow full of cash. We've got our own crime ridden shit pit where most people can't afford a decent standard of living. Why on earth would we want his?

 

"nation finally shook off the chains of British racist settler colonialism". Ah, so the last white farmer who had a clue how to actually farm the land he had has left then has he? While I do agree that as a nation we Brits did have a rather unfortunate habit of colonising places and taking all the good bits I can't say that I think Rob's policy of shooting the white farmers then awarding their fertile farmland to his drinking buddies has been an entirely successful one. Being able to kiss the president's behind while downing a pint and a poteen chaser does not neccessarily qualify you to run a large scale arable farm.  

 

"We, not the British, established democracy, based on one person, one vote." Yeeeess, slightly questionable this one. There was no central voting system in place when Britain colonised the area and while I don't dispute that Zimbabwe has now had an election using the 'one person, one vote' system, it's democratic credentials have been slightly marred by Mr Mugabe's cronies hiding the results and refusing to let anyone else see them. I realise it's their first election but if they'd read the 'how to hold a democratic election' handbook right the way to the end they'd have discovered that you are supposed to release the result and then the person with the most votes gets to be in charge. I'm getting the message that Mr M isn't a massive fan of the British.

 

Mr Mugabe called on Zimbabweans "to maintain utmost vigilance in the face of vicious British machinations and the machinations of our other detractors, who are allies of Britain".

"Whereas yesterday they relied on brute force to subjugate our people and plunder our resources, today they have perfected their tactics to more subtle forms," he warned.

"They throw money as a weapon, literally buying some of our people to turn against their government, accept being politically manipulated, and abandon their rights. Oh dear, looks like the Americans might be off his christmas card list as well. I think Robbie is just jealous, Britain has apparently moved on to 'more subtle forms' of subjugation whereas he's still stuck in the old days of 'brute force' and he's got a nasty case of the green eyed monster. And talking of plundering resources, have you seen his house?

 

Not exactly a mid terrace in Oldham is it Rob? Even our politicians don't live in houses like this. As for Britain buying people and encouraging them to abandon their rights, I didn't think that they actually had rights to abandon. Apart from the right to stand up against Robert Mugabe and receive a double shot to the back of the head over breakfast, obviously.

So there we have it, the winner of Weirdo of the Week, by virtue of his rabid dislike of the British, his bizarre belief that we are still living in Victorian colonial times, his complete inability to recognise hypocrisy and the fact that he lives in a house the size of Basildon is Mr Robert Mugabe. Stand up and take a bow sir!

 

 

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It made me smile

I found this at The Devil's Kitchen and it made me smile…..

 

 

Apparently a selection of our charming MPs are fairly sure that Labour won't win the next election because eveyone hates Gordon Brown and the middle classes are getting fed up of being skint. Some are investigating whether they can take advantage of a scheme that allows MPs retiring on the grounds of ill health to receive their full pension before they reach 65. I suspect that it won't be too long before we start to see a direct correlation between Labour's standing in the polls and the numner of back/ stress related illnesses among MPs requiring early retirement. Watch this space…..

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Tuesday List. On Wednesday

Things I'm Hating this week:

  • The fact that I'm too knackered to think of an inspired title. Or anything else for that matter. If I get any more knackered I'm going to have to employ someone to stand behind me and remind me to breathe in and out on a regular basis because it'll completely slip my mind.
  • The auditor has arrived and unfortunatly my memory of him is accurate. He IS a soulless, earth-shatteringly dull little pillock with all the charisma of an antique asparagus and a freaky ability to suck the joy and humour from any given situation.
  • I'm stuck with Mr Charm for most of tomorrow because the pedantic little pissant is auditing my little site in Cheshire. I have to be with him for an entire morning by the end of which my site manager will be on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I will have lost the will to live. Can this week get any worse? I really shouldn't have just said that should I?
  • The cost of everything seems to be going up. Council tax, fuel, food, bills, all rocketing. It cost me £1.09 per litre to fill up my car yesterday. I was stood on the forecourt chuntering away to myself about 'Rip off Britain' like a Daily Mail Reader. This country is turning me into my grandfather. Tragic. The only thing that is not going up is my salary and this causing a few problems, i.e. I'm even skinter than usual.

Things I'm loving this week.

  • Erm….I'm not dead? There's not much to love this week. A combination of illness, skintness, the auditor and PMT has left in a homicidally bad mood. At least people are now beginning to get the message and avoid me so that's one less irritation at work. If I unplug the phone things might get even better.
  • Ooh, I've got one, we've booked our holiday, we're going on the golf holiday with a group of friends, yay!! Should be a laugh. The lads will go and play golf all day and Cass and I will sit by the pool going beige (we're both very fair skinned) and reading chick lit novels. Sounds like bliss.
  • There's only 2 and a bit more days till the weekend and this week is over. Counting the minutes……

 

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