It's not me, it's you!

Could it be that the longest love affair of a fast approaching middle-aged man’s life is about to come to an end?

No, not my adoration for my right hand, something much more important.

I have been in love with football since before I can remember. My first bicycle in 1980, my first kiss in 1989 (yes I was 15, the other thing wasn't at the same time), my first car in 1992. All momentous occasions and all easily picked out from a 35-year backdrop.

Football, though, has always been there. Part of the furniture, available to be turned to in times of worry, a provider of joy when nothing else seemed to be going right. Impossible to put a date on when it started. When I first kicked a ball or when I first looked on bewildered at a Pat Jennings save on the television. I was always a goalkeeper, part of a strange breed, maybe that is why I don't have many friends. But better to have no friends than be one of those selfish bastards of strikers!

When Thierry Henry’s audition for the Harlem Globetrotters resulted in an injustice that threatened to turn into a diplomatic incident I was left pondering my future without the life-long friend I had come to rely on.

It wasn’t the fact that Ireland hadn’t qualified for the World Cup. I hadn’t really expected them to do so. It was more than that, a question of morals. How could I go on supporting something that seemingly held morality in such disregard?

Now we have the World Cup, and as I've said I'm not that interested. But every time I seem to turn it on there is another selfish little prick diving or cheating.

Things have been slowly simmering for some time. It's not like this is a new phenomenon. Cristiano Ronaldo, has been responsible for some of the most despicable acts of cheating we have seen in some time. Every time he fell over a blade of grass that seemed to have been armed with a freshly sharpened scythe that little voice called conscience nagged away at any celebration from the resulting goal.

But yet I still think he's the best player in the world. Better than that litte cunt Messi, who seems to be immune to people seeing him cheat and dive. Perhaps it's his ridiculous haircut. Or the fact he looks like an oompa-loompa.

A couple of weeks prior to Henry’s display the then England captain, John Terry (the cunt), had almost removed the shirt from a Manchester United forward while pulling him down in the penalty box. Similar to Henry’s situation the referee didn’t see it but, unlike the French Captain, Terry afterwards insisted he did not do it, despite video evidence to the contrary.

Surely a clear-cut case of a footballer being caught out in an indefensible situation? Seemingly not. Any posts on the BBC’s website suggesting Terry had cheated and then lied about it were removed within seconds.

Indeed after that match the Daily Mirror’s chief sports writer wrote a column praising Terry for his leadership in what could be a decisive victory. When I asked him why he had not brought up the act of breaking the rules, the silence was deafening. He wasn't so silent once before when I told him that he was completely wrong about Gary Neville and GNev was in fact a useless little twat who only got a game because he was a bigger tout than whichever historical figure was a big tout. (I'm not big into history as I'm not a Liverpool fan).

Politicians may, deservedly some might argue, get a hard time from the media but at the very least if they are caught with their hand in the cookie jar we expect them to be asked about it.

But where in the football publications can you find players being simply called a cheat? You see allegedly this and allegedly that with quotation marks around the bad words. Running scared are the papers? They don't seem to be when the footballer slips and accidently sticks his dick in some wench that isn't his wife. So why don't they do it when they cheat on the pitch.

Things are looking bleak. My relationship is floundering and I need re-assurance that it is worth trying to save.

Maybe I should go straight to the top. God’s representative for football on earth, head of Fifa Sepp Blatter. Perhaps unsurprisingly my requests for an interview with him were met with derision. But then he's busy sorting out video technology isn't he?

I'll have to look at it psychologically. Football is like love. It makes no sense. It's compulsive and like all compulsive behaviour logic takes a back seat. Fans will seldom admit when their team does something wrong and the majority of the time when they are shown concrete evidence of unacceptable sporting behaviour they will resort to child like arguments of why it is acceptable.

Pointing out reasons like ‘well he did it first’ and such like are what the norm.

So if I am to remain in my relationship I will have to accept the fact that it is going to be an unhealthy one. Biased and one-sided and probably with me as the one to always suffer as a result. Sounds a bit like marriage.

For the time being then it looks like morals will have to be put to one side where football is concerned because it does not look like anything will be changing soon. Besides what other choice to I have? Is there any other sport where cheating is not rampant?

Maybe golf. But Tiger hasn't exactly covered that in glory has he. Unlike all the pornstars he met.

Is the party over?

So there we have it. England are going home. Will they follow the French lead and take cattle class seats on the plane back? I'm sure if Michael O'Leary was watching he will lay on a Ryanair flight back from South Africa for them. They'll have to pay for their own bags of course. But at least there's no need for expensive champagne.

What happens now then? Do we stop watching? Well seeing as I never started watching in the first place that's hardly an option. I did watch the England matches, but that was purely for comedy value and thankfully, on that front, they delivered in spades.

I've never really got the World Cup. For the life of me I can't understand why people want to support a team just because they come from the same place they were born in.

Nationality is a bit like string theory or Shakespeare or boy bands. I just can't understand it no matter how I try.

It's supposed to work like this isn't it; Person A was born in a hospital on one side of an imaginery line which makes them nationality A and person B was born on the other side of the line so that makes them nationality B.

(Obviously some people are born on another planet which makes them Leftists but that's a whole other story.)

Now then Person A must support a certain team because their players were born on the same side of the line. Or weren't, but their granny was so that makes it ok. And person A must want to beat person B's team because of the line thingy. It apparently doesn't matter if persons A & B ended up married to eachother, if they have a different piece of paper telling them what nationality they are then they can't be the 'same'.

See, I'm sort of rambling now. It confuses me that much.

Now a couple of years ago an Irish rugby team were apparently doing quite well and had to beat Wales in some sort of final game which meant they won a Grand Slam or something. How do you get presented with a Grand Slam by the way? Does Hulk Hogan pick you up and throw you to the floor?

Anyway I didn't want this Irish rugby team to win. Why?

BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE RUGBY.

I may have mentioned that to some people before but just in case others haven't heard it I'll make doubly clear...

I FUCKING HATE RUGBY!

Now apparently I was some sort of super-Nazi child molester or something for not wanting Ireland to win. Seeing as I was born in Ireland and have a piece of paper telling me I'm Irish then it's the law that I have to want anything 'Irish' to win.

See I just don't get this. Why? I FUCKING HATE RUGBY. I don't want an Irish rugby team to win at anything. I want them to lose and lose badly. Worse than England lost against Germany.

So the World Cup has never really appealed to me. And it probably never will.

But nevertheless we must get a few words in about the glorious failure of those brave English soldiers. Wait. Hang on. No matter how bad the BBC tried they couldn't even get English fans to say that this time.

Even the pathetic attempt of Gabbbbby Logan to blame the goal that never was didn't bring about the 'Hand of God' hullabaloo we've become accustomed to.

So could it be that England fans have turned a corner? Will there be no more of the divine birthright to win the thing stuff? Here's hoping. I have several English friends I would like to see happy so who knows, maybe in 4 years I can cheer on the England team. Only if John Terry isn't playing of course.

One thing before I go. There is the old saying of 'divide and conquer' which has worked well for many years for warmongering money grabbers. Which brings me on nicely to Sepp Blatter.

Instead of 'divide and conquer' can we now have 'unite and destroy' where Mr. Blatter is concerned. Imagine all the nationality bullshit going out the window and the world of football fans uniting against the single biggest (the fat cunt) thing that is threatening football today.

Blatter you must go and you must go now. You have definitely crossed the line and we don't need any video evidence to confirm it for us.

And take that cunt Terry with you.

Eurovisionary...

There are many things that can go wrong when visiting in-laws. Alcohol can make you say things, or grab things, that you shouldn't. But these are easily forgotten about when everyone buries their heads in the sand the next morning.

There is one problem, however, that can leave a sour taste in the mouth for weeks afterwards. (No, not that!).

What if you are in someone else's house and they decide to put something rubbish on the telly and make you watch it? And worse still, what if this happens on Eurovision Song Contest night.

Surely no jury of sane and sensible peers would convict you of the bloodbath that would result.

Well this was what happened to me over the weekend. After spending several hours in the pub we retired to the house where sister-in-law decided that the Eurovision must be watched.

Maybe it was the fact that I could hardly move due to a slipped disc but I decided not to go on an immediate murderous rampage and see what the hell made 150 million people watch it.

And maybe it was the booze opening my mind but I discovered something truly wonderful:

THE EUROVISION IS A WORK OF GENIUS!

Wait, wait, don't go calling the men in the white coats for me just yet. Let me make it a bit clearer:

THE EUROVISION IS THE WORK OF AN EVIL COMEDY GENIUS!

Here's the thing; the sensible among us watch it and normally throw things at the tv, cursing at whoever is in earshot at how such rubbish can be allowed.

But we are watching it from entirely the wrong perspective. We are watching it thinking that this is a song contest, or even just a light entertainment television show.

It isn't!

Somewhere an evil genius is sitting watching his masterpiece and laughing his bo**ocks off. This is beyond genius. From the first second to the last it is a non-stop tirade of mirth-making. It NEVER stops, there is joke after joke after joke.

Think Brass Eye on crack.

Honestly I don't know where to start. There are too many hilarious moments to list and every time I think of them it stars me rolling around the floor.

There's the ridiculous costumes, but that's too easy. There's the horrendous music, but that's easy too. It's the subtle things that are genius.

Mr. Euroevil (as he will now be known) actually gets 30 odd morons by satellite link to basically count from 1 to 12 (he even leaves out 9 and 11 in case it's too difficult) and do you know what; EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM makes a balls of it.

It's unbelievable. The sheer genius of a man who can make representatives from over 30 countries look like retarded staple guns must not be taken lightly. Some of them can't read, some can't speak (even in their own language). We had one wannabe even sing the scores and to top it all off Mr. Euroevil even brought in a ringer to give the Greek results in the style of one of the financial administrators who is running their country at the minute.

He got over 100,000 people all around Europe to stand in town centres doing some ridiculous dance and he had a camera in "a typical home" of each country. Clearly this was a huge studio with actors playing on all the stereotypes!

Then there's the accusations of rigged voting. "Ach those Eastern Euro's always vote for eachother" is thrown about by almost everyone. What does Mr. Euroevil do? He makes them do it, and no one notices that Bosnia gives Serbia 12 points. THESE PEOPLE F*CKING HATE EACHOTHER but yet Mr. Euroevil has everyone believing they are tactically voting for the other to win.

And to top it all off the eventual winner of a SONG CONTEST is a Lily Allen clone. What else could the man do but make the winner someone who can't sing.

Somewhere, probably in a castle in the Alps, a genius is today celebrating in his comedy masterpiece while those of us who, thanks to booze and pain, were able to get in on the joke will wait impatiently for next years instalment.

Mr. Euroevil - I salute you!!

Which goat will escape?

So the time is nearly upon us. The only rightful team sporting event that can be called a World Cup is about to start. I'm sorry but rugby and cricket don't count. Firstly they aren't real sports and secondly a World Cup has to include more countries than those that were originally outposts for a historical version of Group 4 Securitas.

And the less said about the American 'World Series' type events the better.

No, this is all about the footie. And of course as Ireland will not be competing we will have to find other ways to enjoy it. Normally this involves supporting Anyone But England but this time, due to a certain cheating basketball impersonator, the French have filled the 'most-hated' position.

Now obviously we can't go as far as wanting England to win the thing. Luckily England won't go that far either, so in what way can we watch their inevitable failure and still have a bit of fun doing it?

Well, how about a sweepstake of sorts. Everyone gets to pick a likely candidate for "Scapegoat in chief", the unfortunate chump who will be blamed for another glorious failure by England's brave soldiers.

In the past we've had everyone from Maradona with his hand of Spaghetti Monster to Graham 'The Turnip' Taylor, who managed to fail before he even got there. There's been a plethora of penalty missers and of course Beckham went from saviour to devil and back to saviour again quicker than his wife running away from a buffet table.

Then last time Christiano Ronaldo easily filled the villain void by being both foreign and a United player. He even went so far as winking, giving pun-meisters the easiest rhyming headlines ever.

So who will it be this time? Well make your choice from the suspects below...

Rio Ferdinand - Being a United player and capable of making schoolboy errors that would have schoolboys up and down the country demanding to be called something else could make Rio a shoe-in. However the fact that his fitness is as good as Homer Simpson's means he's unlikely to play much. Odds: 25/1

John Terry - Hated by everyone but Chelsea fans and friends girlfriends, JT seems like a likely candidate. Although he'll probably just make a balls-up, deny it, threaten to sue and no one will ever be able to talk about it again. 40/1

St. Steven of Gerrard - Having played for Liverpool for his entire career, losing is something that comes naturally to our Stevie. Being Scouse of course means blaming it on someone else is also de rigeur. So expect Fabio to take the flack after a Starfish dive goes drastically wrong. 10/1

Wayne Rooney - Being touted as the WC winner for England so surely destined to be blamed when it all goes wrong. He won't score the 147 goals that are expected of him (probably because he'll be too busy picking Emile up off the floor) and being a United player means he can easily be hated. That and ugly rich people are always hated. 8/1

Fabio - Currently a genius. But he's not English so after the glorious failure he easily slips back into being 'Johnny Foreigner' and the Daily Mail can have a field day. 8/1

Random Foreigner whose cheating results in a dodgy penno or sending off thus depriving England of their rightful place as winners - A clear favourite. Evens. Just who will it be? Could that cheating French basteurad of a captain do it again? Here's hoping!

The Asshole Law

So what can we do to solve the problems of the world? Surely we can pass some laws, that seems to be the norm. Laws to stop racism. Laws to stop thieving bastards (unless they are bankers of course) (or Politicians) (or celebrities) (well let’s just leave it at only people who are poor). Laws to stop killing.


That’s a lot of laws, and we didn’t even get on to the whole economic mess.

But having to pass a load of extra laws is not the only problem. For you know once these laws are passed then you have to have more laws because the original laws usually don’t cover everything. Confused? I’ll try to explain.

If you pass racism laws then you have to pass ‘Well I’m Not Really Being Racist’ laws too. Example; scumbag family move in next door to you. They make noise, make an even bigger mess and threaten you and your children with physical violence. “Simple”, I hear you say, “call the police”. Well yes. And no.

If the scumbag family happen to be from a different ‘race’ then you might be being racist, depending on the law. And the ‘race’. Now don’t just assume that we are all members of the human race, because that’s just too sensible. Laws don’t do sensible.

So one law begets another law which means another law etc. etc. until the lawyers all get so rich they buy the planet and throw the rest of us off.

Well I have the solution. It’s so simple I can’t believe no one ever thought of it before. I’ll even give it away for free, no consultancy fees or anything.

We only need ONE law.

Yes, that’s right. One law for everything.

It's called ‘The Asshole Law’.

It really is an amazing piece of legislation this. I predict all world problems solved within 6 months of its adoption.

Let me explain it to you. Firstly the law simply requires that someone is found guilty of the crime of being an ‘asshole’. Once found guilty then punishment is meted out on the grounds of just how big an ‘asshole’ that person was being.

For example, bankers. Assholes. The lot of them. Stupid loans people were never going to be able to repay. Robbing from the poor to give to the rich. Actually fighting for bonuses when they completely failed at their jobs. Definitely, case closed, assholes of the highest degree. 10 years sentenced to building new 14 bedroom houses for the poor.

See how simple that was! Took all of five seconds. Go on, throw another one at me.

Let’s see, how about politicians.

Come on, this is too easy. Definite assholes, undeniable. Perhaps even bigger assholes than the bankers. Yep, guilty as charged. 15 years shovelling actual shit from the sewers in their constituencies. Case closed.

Now at this point someone, a lawyer most probably, will come along and say something like; “This is just stupid, how can you do this? Who is to say who is an asshole and who is not?”.

Invoke ‘The Asshole Law’ immediately and one Mr. Lawyer is found guilty of being an asshole straight away. Punishment? Feck off and stop arguing for the sake of it.

How have we survived without this for so long?

I formally start the campaign for the introduction of ‘The Asshole Law’ with immediate effect. Who’s with me? If you’re not, you’re probably just being an asshole.

I'll no doubt regret this in the morning...

I'm just in from a Frankie Boyle gig and I may not be the soberest. So this probably isn't a good idea. But fuck it, Prince Philip and Queen Liz probably thought it was a good idea to have kids and that didn't exactly work out well did it.

Ok, good start, piss off the English. Well isn't that the point of an Irishman's existence? Most of them think so, the fucking morons. I know there's a lot of fun made of the 'stupid Irishman' but like all good stereotypes there is a semblance of truth. The Irish really are fucking stupid. Seriously. I mean fucking retarded in a way that would make Jade Goody look like Einstein's more intelligent sister. But she can't, as she's dead. Thank fuck.


Hang on, I need a pee and a smoke.


Ok. I'm back.

Where was I? Oh, yes - stupidity.

It's about time that we realised that stupidity is the human race's only way forward. The realisation that you are as thick as a thick plank that has just graduated from the University of stupidity with a degree in retardation means that you are in fact a genius.

Think about it!

Look at people throughout history who thought they knew better. Morons, the fucking lot of them. I mean most of them think they have the answers to the great questions. Why are we here? Fuck knows! NO ONE has a fucking clue. And better than that no one has the capability of ever understanding why. Smart people know this. Idiots try to answer it by saying some old bloke with a beard made it all happen. Or some mountain climber. Or Tom Cruise.

I've lost my train of thought. Drink does that to you. But surprisingly my punctuation still seems to be perfectly ok. Or should that be O.K. Or okay.

Anyway for those who stopped reading when I said I wanted a smoke I will say this: well they've stopped reading so I can say what I like.

But! Yes smoking is bad for you. Yes it's killing me. But it's fucking enjoyable. As is everything that is bad for you. Shouldn't that be realisation enough that we are a fucking joke that can't even make things that are good for us enjoyable?

Muesli is good for you. Show me one person who says eating it is enjoyable and I'll show you a bigger liar than John Terry. The cheating cunt.

Just how special can one man get?

So Jose has done it again. Did anyone really doubt that he would?

I didn't even bother watching the final. But I did make sure to see the end. All I was interested in was Jose. And I dare say I wasn't the only one. Come on now, be honest!

I don't care about teams other than United. For the most part I can't stand them. The last thing I want to see is someone else winning something. But with Mourhino it's different. I like to see him win. It may not have been very modest of him to say so but damn there is something special about him.

He's won two Champions Leagues now. And he's won them with teams of journeymen and rejects. And I would suggest the only reason he didn't win one with Chelsea was because of a certain owner sticking his nose, and his Ukranian striker, in where it wasn't needed. That and Scouse cheating of course.

The man is a genius. It's as simple as that. Deny it all you like but the facts speak for themselves. So what's his secret? For me it's simple; he's one of the few left who realise that football is above all else a team game.

There's a lot of hatred for Jose of course, jealousy is a terrible thing. But it's like water of a ducks back to The Special One. Probably makes him feel better. Why wouldn't it.

So what more can be said about him? Are there any superalitives left? How do you praise him any more?

I can only think of one way.

Sir Alex Ferguson doesn't take kindly to many people. There isn't another top class manager around today that I know of who he hasn't had a falling out with at some stage. Jose? Well Fergie hasn't a bad word to say about him.