Vintage Two Scoops, Too Much for JMF

The win streak now stands at four, as the mighty Elite, led by a vintage Two Scoops performance, came from behind to stroll to an easy five goal victory. The JMF withstood heavy pressure early on to open open up a two goal lead, thanks in the main to an inspired spell of keeping by the Mercenary, but it wasn't to last. The dusty Pedestrian looked to have kept the rampant euro boys at bay, but after two scoops opened his account for the evening, disaster befell the knob munchers as Jamon back heeled an own goal past the Dusty one to equalise. At the halfway mark, the Righteous were cruising, two goals up and in control, but a sustained period of MoFo attacking, the best seen in a while, saw the ass cracks drag themselves level, and amazingly actually take the lead. The boost to the JMF saw them step up the pace, and they seemed on the verge of an upset, when the most boneheaded play seem in years saw all their momentum come crashing to a halt. King Dave, not best known for his keeping prowess, seemed on course for a rare clean sheet, when the Funky Pedestrian, under absolutely no pressure, decided to stroll into the penalty area to collect a loose ball. PENALTY! Shotgun, who performed well on his return from a long term injury, coolly slotted home from the spot, and the wind visibly fell from the MoFo sails. The big man, JohnnyMedia then stepped up to score to exquisite curlers from distance, and the lead from then on was never in doubt. Special mention goes to the Right Honourable Shouty, who smashed an Exocet past a trembling Mercenary near the end. Young Gaz will be missing again next week, replaced by the resurgent Two Scoops, but the MofO will be desperate to welcome back the talismanic Dead Eye, who should make his return next week. The righteous now hold a three game advantage, as the year draws to its conclusion, and the MofO need to stem the tide soon, or their title will be surrendered.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Mercenary, Funky, Lukelear War and King Dave

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Shotgun, Euro Bri, Two Scoops and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -18


• Euro Elite - 21


• Draws - 4

Halloween Eve

An oldie, but the perfect picture to scare your, or anybody elses kids with;

McTuesday it McBe

Yargghh ye scabie infested pox wounds, none of ye be guessin' that I be Fattening me Flurry in that backwater that be McBurnley, Lancashire. Har har, me treasure be mine. Yet this be meanin' it be a rollover to 2 shiny gold doubloons, fer the soul who be brave enough to figure ;

"Where bbbbeeeee McEuroooo????"

Bender Twins Lead TSV to Victory

After last weeks hiccup against the hot dog team, Der Lowen romped to a three goals to nil victory over Kickers Offenbach, to move back up into third place in the league. The scoring was opened by Sven Bender just after the half hour mark, and two second half goals from Berkant Göktan sealed the win for TSV. The other Bender, twin brother Lars, helped to keep a clean sheet at the back, in front of 22,300 at the Allianz. Next week the lions take on fourth placed FSV Mainz 05, at home.

Kommen Sie auf Sie Löwen!!!!!!



Borussia Mönchengladbach remain at the top of the table, and they host Die mächtigen Löwen on the weekend beginning the 25 of April 2008. Are you thinking what I am thinking? Our good friends at Jet 2 fly direct to Dusseldorf for £80, flying out Friday evening at 6pm an returning Sunday at 9pm. there is a direct train, taking approx 20 minutes to Mönchengladbach, where we stay for two nights, and are home for 9pm Sunday night. Alternatively we stay in Dusseldorf, which may have a better night life, and commute to the game, which is again only 15-20 minutes away by train. Sounds like a plan to me.............

Funkys Band

The International Party Doctors are playing a gig up at Raggalds pub up near Queensbury on Friday night, kicking off around 9 p.m. and going deep into the evening. I will be attending after a few sherberts down the George, and will be dragging the Elster along to boot. So if you are at loose end on Friday get your arse down, and let's get pissed. Bring a friend, the flyer promises a night of mayhem.

Funky 0 Law £160

The result is in (apologies for lateness, been laid low by stomach trouble), and as predicted the Law strolled to an easy victory, In Funkys defence though, the outcome could have been far more one sided. We rolled up on time at Hakifax Magistrates, got through security and took our place among council tax dodgers and drug addicts and settled in to wait. Luckily for the Funkmeister though his guardian angel hadn't rung in sick, and help came from an unlikely source. Whilst waiting for video evidence to arrive for the case in session, the prosecutor took time out to speak to the Pedestrian and pretty much told him how to plead, his excuse for pleading not guilty on his previous appearance, and lined up another court for him to be seen in, so we didn't have to hang around. This did deny myself and Crespo the chance to see the F.P. stand up and do his best "You can't handle the truth!" Hollywood court speech. Instead he stood with a goofy grin on his visage, framed by his orange Mexico tan, and pleaded guilty. The result was a £85 fine for speeding and £75 court costs, total £160, and three points to be added to his licence when he gets it back. Considering he could have been whacked with a £1000 fine and a longer ban, it was a good result. We retired to the boozer to celebrate, having his missus on that he had been banged up, which she didn't find as amusing as me Crespo and Funky did. We also got embroiled in the middle of a chav scrap in some dodgy Halifax dive, which seemed to involve a lot of screeching bints, and blokes in iffy sports wear threatening each other with dismemberment without actually coming to blows. High entertainment indeed.

Helmet Banned, Funky in Court

Tony Helmet has entered Le Grande Buffoon 2007 top five, replacing John the Don (who by his high standards has had a quiet year), by contriving to get himself barred from the majority of the pubs in the Wilsden area for a misdemeanour that shall go unreported. It has been, apart from Funky and Shouty, a quiet year on the idiocy scale, Munich excepted, but I felt it would remiss of me not to give Helmet points for his latest faux pas. It will have little impact though on the destination of Le Maillot Jaune, as the Funky Pedestrian, in all likelihood will sew up the title today, as he goes head to head with the British justice system. As usual he is skint, so is unable to afford a solicitor, and will be defending himself in a court of law, after entering a plea of not guilty for, you guessed it, speeding. Myself, Dazzler and Crespo are going to watch the Fuckwittery unfold, and there will be a full report over the weekend.

Crespo Comeback too Much for JMF

The righteous elite proved to good for a makeshift JMF, strolling to a four goal win. Crespo was to the fore for the Euro boys, scoring several goals on his first appearance in several weeks, rounding off a fine team performance, marred only by an injury to Young Gaz in the later stages. The MoFo continue to miss Dead Eye's goals, and will be without him for another week, the Mercenary is his likely stand in. I can't even be bothered calling the shirt lifters to many names, as frankly it was all to easy.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Mercenary, Two Scoops, Lukelear War and King Dave

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Crespo, Euro Bri, Young Gaz and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -18


• Euro Elite - 20


• Draws - 4

Slack Fella's

Loafing around on the sofa today I came across a daytime TV show called "Loose Women", which featured a gaggle of moderately well known bints, waffling about a load of bollox. I knew who Mel B was, and the rest had sort of familiar faces, you've seen them somewhere before but can't quite remember where. But the tripe they talked! I have caught bits of this show before, and no lie they actually started talking about what they had for tea the night before! And that was one of the more stimulating conversations they had. Then I started thinking, they actually get paid for this drivel! This got me thinking. Now I know none of us are ex reality show stars, or been in the Nolans, but we could surely be more entertaining than a bunch of ageing has beens. So I got to thinking, what about setting up some kind of forum page to raise issues and waffle shite? I am going to discuss with other Squad members over the weekend, and if we are in favour of going ahead, I will get some kind of platform up and running over the next week or two.

Curses!! McMercenarey be Back

Yarrgh, ye cream puff whelk lickers, fer the third week in a row, me treasure has been purloined by one of ye infernal McSpotters. The McMercenary, fresh back from the Spanish Indies, snuck in his guess at the death, correctly figurin' I be quaffin' quarter pounders in the birthplace of McLobon, McDoncaster, South Yorkshire. I figrue he be spottin the Fitness first gym in me rear view mirror. A gym next to a MaccyD's, only in Yorkshire! His reward be one doubloon. So ye clever dicked ferret molesters, I be given ye one that be devlish beyond belief, fer one gold coin can ye be guessin;

"WWWWWWWhere be McEEEEuro????"

What a Sucky Weekend

Well the Euro sport curse strikes again. The mighty Cleveland Indians, aka The Tribe blew a three games to one lead in a best of seven series, to get knocked out of the World Series by the gaylord Boston Red Sox. All the idiots needed to do was win one of the last three games and we'd have been Series bound, but they got whooped big time. As reported earlier City dominated Darlington but only drew 0-0. Lewis Hamilton choked, and the South Africans put paid to England in Paris. And to top it all the mighty TSV 1860 Munchen were well and truly spanked, 3-0, at home to some team called SpVgg Greuther Fürth (?) to slip to fifth place in the league. Beaten by a team that sounds like a brand of hot dogs. How embarrassing! And thats not to mention England, whose Euro 2008 fate is now in the hands of football powerhouses Israel and Andorra. Bollox.

We Have a Name

After weeks of conjecture and copious amounts of beer and brandy, we have finally come up with a title for our burgeoning political movement. It has been discussed with all factions, and it has met with approval in all quarters. Many suggestions have been made, special mention goes to Shotgun who came up with numerous names, but we have settled on one that even big JohnnyMedia thought was all right. The final seal of approval went to Shouty, who will be campaigning to become the Right Honourable Member of Parliament for Shipley at the next general election. We will from now on be known as the S.T.N. party, which stands for Stop The Nonsense. I will be looking into registering the STN in the not to distant future, so I will be looking for donations to get us up and running. I know there is no immanent fear of an election being held, but strike while the iron is hot I say. The key to getting enough votes to put up a decent showing, will be to appeal to those that don't vote, so get the message out there to any friends and acquaintances who reside in the Shipley constituency. Those of you who use social networking sites such as Facebook or MySpace, get the message out there, I will set up a communal blog, and will also look into setting up some kind of forum. Any and all ideas are welcome.

STOP THE NONSENSE.

Bantams Break Losing Streak

It wasn't a victory, but after losing 5 on the bounce a point was welcome. What is more puzzling is how this shower of shite are in the top three. They created the grand total of one chance, and if we would have had a smidgen of luck, all three points could have been ours. Nicky Law looks an excellent addition, from Sheff United on loan, and the back four looked much improved, but still lack pace in my humble opinion. The keeper we have on loan from Blackpool doesn't engineer cardiac arrest among the crowd when he goes to clear the ball either. It's the Mariners of Grimsby Town away next, but I can't attend due to prior commitments, so it's Brentford at home in a fortnight.

Baz Watch; On for full 90 minutes. After Nicky Law, for me, the second best player on the pitch. Our bald carthorse warrior was resplendent in dazzling white boots. Missed absolute sitter, with his gleaming dome, but was unfortunate with two other efforts, one scrambled away and the other deflected wide. Squared up for a scrap with a miscreant Darlington defender, who soon backed off when he realised it was Big Baz. One outrageous piece skill when he controlled a high punt, flicked it over his head swivelled round and laid off a defence splitting pass. Bazaldinho-esque! Even the Darlo fans sang him a song.


Pie Rating; 5/10 Steak and Kidney. Diseased lung consistency. I am no great lover of kidney, and only tried this pie in the interests pie-equality. I was pleasantly surprised, the kidney level wasn't that high, and the gravy made sure this foul offal was not the over powering taste. UK Gold indigestion factor, full of repeats, I was still tasting it the following day at tea time. Over priced. If this pie were a football team it would be Bradford Park Avenue, a relic of bygone days. Better than expected..

Free the Keighley One

Friday the 26th October, 2007, Halifax Magistrates Court. This is the day that the Funky Pedestrian fights the law, and in all probability the law wins. This is the day that he represents himself in court, in answer to the charges of speeding. Regular readers of this blog, will be aware he has already been banned for accumulating to many points, and the points he his fighting in court are ones he gained as he was awaiting his court date for the aforementioned offences. This could be well worth witnessing, and a few of us have taken the day off work to see if the Funky Q.C., can pull off a legal miracle. We are showing up in t-shirts bearing slogans of support. Dangerous Pete is going for "Foot Down, Big Frown!", and I am thinking of sporting one that reads "I Have Come Plead, Because I Speed!." Whatever the outcome, we are there to offer support, and will be whisking the rascal off to the pub afterwards, to either commiserate, or celebrate any outcome.

Fight the Power!!!

Le Grande Buffoon 2007........An Update

As promised, an update on the struggle to win Le Maillot Jaune, as the Bender Squad buffoon of the year. As expected a strong showing has been put up by annual contenders John the Don, Helmet, Mad Ad,Funky and the Right Honourable Shouty, but as always an outsider or two also make a strong showing. This year, in light of the Munich trip, I have to say some consideration has to be shown to myself, the airplane incident being of particular note. The other first timer to make his presence felt is Ropey Mark, who took his piratey nonsense to new levels, nearly getting punched by a passer by, upsetting a disabled girl, gurning of epic proportions, and most infamously knocking up Dangerous Pete's dad at 5 a.m. to ask if he was in, and then running off before Pete could get to the door. But the two front runners remain Shouty, and just retaining his lead Funky, who have both maintained a high level of idiocy throughout the year. The Right Honourable has made great strides to narrow Funky's seemingly insurmountable lead, but the taxi incident is to much stupidity for even the Shoutster to overhaul. With 2007 slowly drawing to a close, I have put together a current top five;

1. The Funky Pedestrian


2. The Right Honourable Shouty


3. Ropey Mark


4. European Bri


5. John the Don

Bubbling Under

• Tony Helmet


• Mad Ad


• Skidley

Every Cloud has a Silver Lining

To be an England fan. Since the last world cup we have been looking forward to traipsing through the Alps, drinking beer and watching footie. Then they hired Steve McLaren. After slip ups against Croatia, Macedonia and Israel, qualification looked distant. But this being England, they reeled of four 3-0 victories, and their destiny was in their own hands. A draw in Russia would practically guarantee passage through to the final stages. One nil up at half time, and all seemed to be going to plan. Full time 2-1 to the Commies, and our plans lay in ruins. I know there is a slim possibility of qualification, if Israel manage to get a result, but I will not be holding my breath. So what is the silver lining to this darkest of clouds? Firstly we should, in all likelihood, be seeing the back of Mr Charisma, the sweep over kid Stevo Mac. Hurrah! Secondly, and although I would have loved to spend a fortnight of high jinks in the Swiss/Austrian Alps, it provides an opportunity to go back to Munich, just to see if the Octoberfest is as truly brilliant as we think it is. Hurrah again!

Righteous Regain Lead

Apologies for the brevity of this weeks match report, but I am tired, after staying up to watch the baseball over the past few nights. As the title of this post indicates, the righteous Elite took the JMF shirt lifters to the cleaners last night, prevailing by five goals. There were one or two scares along the way, the MoFo even held an early lead, thanks in the main to some excellent keeping by Lefty, but once we had opened a lead, the result was never in doubt. Man of the match was a shared effort between Clogs and Young Gaz, who accounted for the majority of the goals, but spaecial mention has to go to Shoutys magic bean save from Jamon, in wich he appeared to bend the space time contimuim to repel a goal bound effort from the JMF captain.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Lefty, Two Scoops, Lukelear War and King Dave

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Clogs, Euro Bri, Young Gaz and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -18


• Euro Elite - 19


• Draws - 4

This One be McTougher

Yarrgh ye vineger breathed plankton brained noodle heads, I be pitching ye a more difficult McOdyssey than last week, one that was rightly spotted as being McMunich Hauptbanhof, Germany. That festering poop muncher McLobon has eaned he self a shiny doubloon fer 'is efforts. This week be a different proposition though, and fer one gold coin can any of ye be figurin';



"Where be MMMMcEEEuro???"

What Planet do these People Live On?

Over the past couple of years, the powers that be have issued apocalyptic warnings about the state of the planets environment. We are either going to be drowned by raising sea levels, or left to scorch in arid deserts as the climate is changed by the carbon emissions we pump into the atmosphere. If we do not stop flying, watching TV or breaking wind, mankind is doomed. We have been bombarded with the message to the point of de-sensitivity, but little did we realise another cataclysm lurked around the corner. Alan Johnson M.P., and his underlings in the ministry of health, have announced that rising obesity levels are a "potential crisis on the scale of climate change" WHAT? Does this mean that all the recycling we have been told to do, and the green taxes we have been forced to cough up are all in vain? That the poor old polar bear is living in mortal danger of junk food eating fatso's than the melting polar ice caps? How will these rotund harbingers of doom send us into oblivion? Will all food sources shrivel and die in the shadow of their mountainous girth? Perhaps their combined tonnage will pull the earth out of its gravitational pull and send us spinning into the sun. Or are we to perish in an avalanche of pot bellied donut munchers as they slip and roll down steep hills? What will they do to prevent this army of calorie heavy Goliaths gorging themselves to the planets demise? Will they stop eating in enclosed spaces? Forced marches to re-education camps? Liposuction vans to swoop on unwary lard arses as they leave Burger King? My suggestion would to be have a hunting season in spring, an open season on anybody with a waistline over 50 inches. At least we would be spared the site of seeing them try and squeeze in to halter tops and shorts in the summer months. I have a feeling they might tax the ass off anything that tastes nice. They reckon our chip hungry compatriots are a drain on our National Health Service, diverting funds from those poor old drug addicts and their free methadone, and we can't have all those hospital directors going without their six figure salaries and bonuses can we? All joking a side though, these are the lunatics running this country, and a perfect example of how far removed they are from the real world. I have not made this up either checkout;
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/health/7043639.stm
for the full story. It is reasons like this that we are setting up our own political party, and suggest other like minded people to do the same in their areas.

STOP THE NONSENSE.

Shotgun Idea for Party Name

The lack of ideas coming forth as to what to name our political faction indicates how difficult the task at hand is. Shotgun has come up with a pretty good one, the F.P.P., aka the Fair Play Party. Originally this seemed like a good call, but the more that I thought about it the less it seems to represent what we stand for. It is a little bit liberal sounding for my liking, as we don't really stand for everything being fair, as this means having to lower standards and expectations to the lowest common denominator, something the incumbent government is hell bent on doing. What we are standing for is self determination, being given the opportunity to reach potential without being forced to cough up taxes to the feckless, thick and the downright lazy. We want to appeal to all the people out there who are busting a hump, trying to earn a crust to better themselves and families, not to provide roll ups and pints for track suit wearing scum, who have no intention of contributing anything worthwhile to this country or the communities they live in. We are also wanting to grasp our democratic rights to to run our lives as we see fit, not by some public schooled buffoons who have no grasp of the realites of the everyday life we have to struggle through. It is a good call Shotgun, and by far the best anybody has come up with yet, but not quite what I am after. Back to the drawing board I am afraid.

Bantams Stuffed by Shrimps

Well that makes five defeats in a row, and although it was a vast improvement on the Accy Stanley display, they probably deserved to win. We even managed to take the lead, but with seconds remaining Morecambe stole all three points in injury time. Yet again there was a good following, City apparently sold out there 1,200 allocation, but we were rewarded with yet another disjointed display. Young Nicky Law looks like he could be a useful loan addition, and Big Baz Conlon played well, having a late effort smartly saved just before the Shrimps winner. Next week see's the second place Darlington pull into town, and a result of any description is required to stop the rot. What has happened to the standard of play displayed at the beginning of the season? The photo above is me and the Boy with Eric Morecambe on the front.

Pie Rating; 3/10 Cheese Pie. Solidified Flem consistency, with eggy fart indigestion factor. Tasted a lot better than it looked. Roll windows down in vehicle on way home, as resulting gas explosions will not be popular with travelling companions. No fish pie. Priced reasonably. If this pie were a football team it would be Oldham Athletic, you know its there, but wouldn't go out of way try. Bland.

Baz Watch; On for full 90 minutes. Played well in comparison to most of his team mates, nearly scoring in the dying minutes. Didn't notice any moans at ref, but I was a bit pissed so who can tell. I think he was sporting his white boots, but see above, I could be wrong.

I am going to stick some pics from our outing here.

Fantasy Footbal

The first transfer window is now open, until the 20th of October. The mercenary is currently leading from big JB and Dead Eye, with myself and the pedestrian close behind. At the opposite end of the table the Duke is propping up the rest, with a flurry of Jannettas just above them. Of to watch the mighty Bantams tomorrow, and might go up to the Villager to watch the rugby semi final, if any ones about.

Parity Regained

It was nip and tuck for a spell down the Wood, and at times a little tasty, but a late goal burst from Two Scoops and Young Gaz saw the Elite home by four goals last night. Of course this means the scores are once again deadlocked, with just over two and a half months of the year remaining. The evil shirt lifting JMF got off to a blinder, leading by four goals to nil early on, but the righteous managed to drag themselves back into the game, largely through the efforts of big JohnnyM, who was everywhere, upsetting Jamon with a perfectly legal challenge on the edge of our penalty area. The game appeared to be heading for stalemate as the game entered the last ten minutes, but the MoFo tactic of not marking Two Scoops backfired spectacularly to present the Euro boys a hard won victory.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Lefty, Dead Eye, Lukelear War and King Dave

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Two Scoops, Euro Bri, Young Gaz and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -18


• Euro Elite - 18


• Draws - 4

Der Lowen Triumph

With the mighty Bantams currently languishing fourth from bottom of the lowest professional division in English football, I thought I would report on how our favourite German team were doing. TSV 1860 Munich, aka Der Lowen, beat former East German powerhouse Carl Zeiss Jena 2-0 away from home and lie in second place of the Bundesliga 2, two pints behind leaders Bourussia Monchengladbach (you try and spell it). I have asked the Elster if we can move to Munich so I can be near my favourtie Deutsh team, and she said "No." I then asked her if I could move there and she said "Fill your boots, but don't think your sending your laundry home for me to do!" Yet again a cunning plan is foiled. Oh well, off to Morecambe on Friday instead. Wonder if they have any beer kellers there???

I Be Back Me Hearties

Yarrgh, ye foam snorting cockle pickers, after missin last weeks McOdyssey, I be back with a simple one to satisfy yer simple minds. That floppy haired arse boil McCrespo bagged himself 4 gold doubloons last time out, after he rightly be guessin' I be suckin' me shake in sunny McSkegness. This be meanin' a solitary coin be yer reward fer guessin';

"WWWWWhere be MMMcEuro???"

Evil Empire Vanquished

The Cleveland Indians advanced to the World Series semi finals last night, after upsetting the heavily favoured New York Yankees, winning a five game series 3-1. The Yankees are baseballs equivalent of Manchester United, and just as loathed by anybody who isn't a fan. Hell we even beat them on their own turf, winning 6-4, to set up a meeting with the Boston Red Sox. Once again the Tribe will be underdogs, but the pitching match ups will favour us if we can turn the Sawx in one of the first two games, which are in Boston. This series is best of seven and kicks off Friday night. Is this the year we finally win it all? It hasn't happened since 1948, but if we can get past the Evil Empire anything is possible.

GO TRIBE!!!!!!!

Apologies

Sorry, but I said yesterday that I had uploaded some more pictures to the Octoberfest gallery. It was late and I forgot, but I have rectified this and there are another 25 or so pictures if you click here. One or two people have approached me concerning the post fountain picture I posted. The question being posed is "Why does Splash Stoney have a shrivelled up gooseberry between his legs?" I am afraid to report that is his penis.

Baz Breaks Duck...But City Slide

What is happening with the Bantams? One minute everything seems gravy, the next its turned to diarrhoea! We were out of the country for the Wycombe game, but were back for the Accrington Stanley debacle. 3-0 at home, to bunch of inbred Lancastrians. The worst part is it could have been more, as we were second best in every department. I would have reported a full account of the match, but the performance doubled my hangover and by the time I recovered we had already been defeated by the MK Dons. At least Big Baz Conlon opened his City account, with an injury time penalty. This Friday it's the Shrimpers of Morecambe, so we are off to hopefully witness a revival, but unless a few players pull their fingers out, it could be a long night. The pie rating below is from the Stanley game at Valley Parade.

Pie Rating; 2/10 Chicken Balti. Lumpy turd consistency, with nuclear explosion indigestion factor. Tasted like it looked. Make room in the toilet, and have plenty of bog roll. Not advised to be eaten after a weekend of swilling steins. Pricey. If this pie were a football team it would be Huddersfield Town. Avoid.

Running Scared

As our movement gathers a pace to storm the citadels of power, Gordon Brown quashed rumours of a snap Autumn election, chickening out of any polling for Parliament till at least 2009. This is great news for our as yet unnamed party, as we would have struggled to get our registration together in time. So being the lazy muppets we are, we can breathe a sigh of relief. One thing I would like to have done before the end of the year though is to have a name, and be registered, just in case the slippery Scotsman goes back on his word. Inspiration still fails me for a suitable title for our party, but registration is £150, so we need a fund raiser, something involving beer, and if possible strippers. Female ones. No dodg'ems though. Shouty is still our figurehead(?), and I think he quite likes the idea, and unless anybody can think up a better constituency, Shipley shall be our battleground. Please though, can anybody come up with a catchy title?

Post Fountain Shot

This should be the last post relating to Munich, as I can imagine those not fortunate to go will be getting a bit brassed off with it by now. I think I have collected all the pictures taken, with the exception of Jacks, so I am uploading the final lot on this link. For those of you among us who aren't familiar with the t'internet, just click on the word link with the line underneath it. As promised in the title of this post, a shot of the fountain crew, post swim, in the hotel lobby has arrived in my e-mail box (cheers Funky). So if there are young children in the room or you are about to tuck into your lunch or tea, I suggest you look away now........................

Octoberfest......Part 3

Our final day in Munich started off around 11 a.m. with a pork and sauerkraut brunch back at the Lowenbraukeller on the Stiglimierplatz. After a few beers Sandro evaporated, and Queso took off to recharge his batteries, Helmet was not to be seen again till turned midnight. Myself, Funky, Dazzler, Crespo, Dangerous and King Dave took off to watch TSV 1860 play footie, the rest left standing headed off to watch some rugby in an Irish bar. The football posse manged to find the stadium, only getting on the wrong train once, but still only managed to arrive for the second half. At the ground you have to get a stadium credit card to purchase beer, so I got one a stuck 20 euros on it, and ordered six beers. It came to 21 euros, but the nice lady on the concession stand let me off a euro. The game itself was average, my attempts to start a wave foundering, only Dangerous took up the call, and two fella's doing a wave in a 66,000 seat arena doesn't have much of an effect. My efforts to introduce the easy, easy you shut up! and ooooooooooo you fat bastard! chants to our Bavarian comrades met with puzzled looks. It was still a laugh, I bought everybody present a wristband to celebrate the occasion, the game finished 2-2, and we stopped at a beer van, yes they really have them, outside the station to ponder our next move. A drunk geezer pitched up across from us, and it gave us inspiration to once again tackle the Octoberfest. We headed off, and after a McMunich attack in the Hauptbanhof, we pitched up back at the weissbier garden from the previous day. Splash Stoney called up Dangerous and a rendezvous of the squad was arranged, although Shouty once again got lost. After we had all met up and swigged a few beers, I decided it was now or never to try and gain entrance into one off the world famous beer tents. I gathered the crew together and we headed into the nearest big tent, and as luck would have it someone was vacating a table just as we entered. Let me tell you my friends, it was beer heaven. A kick ass oompah band, with resident Bavarian raver dancing on speakers, was belting out German beer tunes, everyman and his dog was standing on tables, slopping steins and singing along. For three hours we managed to drink our selves daft, Dangerous, King Dave and myself had a play scuffle, which saw us surrounded by armed security guards in red berets, but when they realised we drunken mates, they let us get on with it. At about eleven o'clock the taps were turned off and it was back into the fairground, where Shouty decided to go on the dodgem's. Unfortunatly for him all the cars had been taken, and as the hooter sounded to clear the area he found himself marooned in the middle as all the dodgem's set off. He had to be rescued by the operator, as he stood there blinking away like a damsel in distress. His bufoonery was not yet finished, he had purchased a large chocolate love heart to take home for one of his rugrats. When he decided to take a ride on the tall swing, he asked what he thought to be a ride worker to look after it. You've guessed it. He didn't work there at all, and when the Shoutster alighted from his ride, his chocolate heart was log gone. By this time, me, Crespo and Funky had become separated from the rest, and decided to get the train back to the bar we had all agreed to meet at if we split up. Poor Crespo was to treated to the Funky-Euro train treatment reported from the night before, as we somehow managed to get on the wrong train 6 times. After he had thrown a bit of a wobbler, I finally came to my senses and we got to the right station. We met up at our designated place, and stiffened with plenty of vodka and bourbon, we attacked the fountain. We stripped off outside the bar and headed for the fountain. I was the first in, believe me it was cold, Dangerous was in second, followed by Young Jack, Funky, Shouty and most spectacularly by Splash Stoney who entered the water through a back flip with double pike, beautifully executed, not once but twice. Alas the batteries in my camera had run flat, so there are no photos, although I think Funky might have got some on his camera. After a water fight our testicles had shrunk to the size of rice grains, so we got out and Splash somehow found a shopping trolley to transport our clothes back to the hotel. After drying off and changing, it was back for a couple of night caps, before I left Hemet, Mad Ad, Dangerous and Splash to it. The next morning it was off back to Blighty, I hold my hands up and tell you I was finished by now, and didn't have beer all day. I was not the only one, but Mad Ad, Helmet, Splash and King Dave were ready for more, and between Munich airport and the Villager carried it on till the death. Young Jack blew chunks at passport control in Schipol Airport, but the most spectacular projectile vomiting was performed by my good self, who on the approach to Leeds/Bradford airport ran the length of the plane, couldn't find the WC, tried to mistakenly get into the cockpit, finally found the toilet, opened the door in the nick of time, and hurled head first into the can with my legs dangling out the door. And that was about it. But the buffoonery was not yet over. The next day I received an e-mail from the hotel, informing me they had charged me 100 euros for failure of one of the guests to hand in their key. John the Don strikes at the death, and costs me money yet again.





In summary, for me this was the most legendary Bender Squad trip yet. The Octoberfest was everything I expected and more, and the Bavarians were the nicest most patient folk you could wish to meet. For future reference I would make sure a table was booked at one of the big tents, and it is a place I would love to visit again. The reports I posted on this blog are reflective of my experience's there, and I have missed out some other tales, of which I was not witness. Young Jack won a bet with Splash, by talking a nubile young waitress to swap clothes with him. Young Jack was also in a Techno club with Shouty, who claimed to control the dance floor with his bad ass moves(?). Mad Ad went for a piss in the airport when we arrived, and when he came out everyone had gone (he had to pay 50 euros to get the hotel), something that happened to Shouty on the Sunday when they left the Irish bar, although it has a happier ending as he found us again. There is also Queso's OxPig, a mystical beast only found on spit roasts in Munich. A special mention also goes to Skid and Crespo, who took 250 euros each to catch a later flight when ours was overbooked. They were told they would have to wait a couple of hours and would be back at Yeadon for nine o'clock. They ended up landing back home at Midnight, minus their bags, a fate that befell Patty and Helmets luggage. When all summed up, there was idiocy a plenty, as you would expect, by for the regularity of which he committed extreme acts of stupidity, Shouty has emerged as a serious Le Grand Buffoon 2007 candidate to the seemingly cast iron Funky Pedestrian. I have more pictures to post, particularly from the beer tent, and will notify on this blog when I have uploaded them.

Off to the George

After an absence of three weeks, I am off to the George to catch up with the Friday crew. I will post part three of our adventures in Muncih tomorrow. I also have more photo's to post as other people's pics start coming in. I have developed a disposable camera I found at the bottom of my bag that Patty used, and will get in touch with the Funky Pedestrian to see if he has download the pictures and video off his phone. Don't forget our Xmas bender has been called for the 15th of December, where we are off to Dykesville, aka Hebden Bridge. The first event of 2008 looks likely to be Tony Helmets 40th, a trip north of the border to Edinburgh. Till tomorrow..........

Octoberfest 2007.......Part 2

Where was I? Ah yes, our first visit too the Octoberfest. We had arrived at around 10:30 am, and after much weissbier, spicy pork sandwiches, bratwurst and other noxious substances, I went for a wizz at around 4 o'clock when disaster struck. Whilst recycling some beer, I figured to squeeze out a fart, that unfortunately turned out to be a bit wet. Oh dear. I gathered up Dangerous and Helemt and took off back to the hotel for a pit stop. Alighting from the taxi, I was rugby tackled by Helmet, and piled on by Pete, bruising my knee badly in the process, but after changing we were ready to attack more beer once more. Outside our abode we found members Shouty, Funky, The Boy, San and Crespo swigging shorts in the bar next door. After a few replenishing vodkas, it was time to ride the whirlwind once again, and as luck would have it ther was a 2,000 seater beer keller at the bottom of the road. Things were getting rowdy again, and I have to confess it got a bit blurry before I found myself alone with Funky supping steins in a bar on the Marineplatz downtown. It was now dark, and after stumbling in and out of a couple of bars we decided to see if we could find anyone else back at the hotel. Unfortunately navigating the Munchen U-bahn system after a ten hour drinking session proved more difficult than expected. After catching the wrong train four times, a gang of little old ladies noticed our bewilderment, and took us under their wings, actually going out of their way to make sure two clueless drunks got home safely. Until two of them fell out part way through our journey and a mass argument in heated German broke between our new found Hell's Grannies. One broke off from the melee, to point to our station. It was back to the now rammed Lowenbraukeller from earlier, but no one was to be seen. So we were given a table with a very nice German family and set of on a stein frenzy once more. After four or five big 'uns and a steak later, it was closing time and we were swept off into the street at 1 a.m in the morning to stagger back to our beds. At this juncture you would think the day was finally over, but no there was more yet to come. Back at the hotel there was carnage strewn everywhere, I found Shouty slumped in his doorway, John the Don snoring like a Silverback Gorilla and Dangerous chilling out with some herb he was given by some friendly Italians. My bed called and I was out like a light. But after what seemed five minutes of sleep, there was a loud noise outside my door and on further inspection I found Tony Helmet, who proffered a livener, and took me off to an all night bar where Mad Ad, El Grande Queso and the King of the Pixies were quaffing Vodka cokes for fun. It was 4 a.m. Well it would have been rude not join in, so we were off again. After a couple of hours the Helmet made the fatal mistake of lying down, and was helped home by Mad Ad, leaving me and Queso trying to keep San the Man from sneaking off at the same time, which worked for an hour or so, before I pointed him in the direction of his bed, just as dawn broke. My old mate Stevie and me were left to talk garbage with a bunch of locals, who seemed to have no where else better to be, until around 7 a.m. when it was declared that enough was indeed enough. On the way back to the hotel there is a little fountain, and although this edifice will get another mention in a later post, yer man Queso thought it would be great fun for both of us to jump in and have a splash about. After managing a couple of hours kip earlier I was no where near drunk enough to jump into what looked a seriously cold fountain, so I ran away back to the hotel to grab a quick snooze before continuing on our most excellent adventure.



To be continued....

Queerless JMF Regain Lead

We got paggered last night, but at least on the Euro Elite, the two geezers who had partied in Bavaria turned up to play. That is unlike the sackless cock munching gaylords of the MoFo who came along, King Dave and the Funky Pedestrian. I am not impressed, grow some balls.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Lefty, Dead Eye, Lukelear War and the Mercenary

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Clogs, Euro Bri, Young Gaz and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -18


• Euro Elite - 17


• Draws - 4

Octoberfest 2007.......Part One

Well after all that waiting it's now history, but it was well worth the wait. Munich was brilliant, the town doesn't look much, but those crazy Bavarians know how to drink beer. We managed to get to Munchen airport in one piece, although Mad Ad was given a talking to about his drunkenness. The first act of stupidity came from an expected source and a surprise one. The train from the airport into city centre takes about 45 minutes, and the most vociferous whiner about the length of time was the Right Honourable Shouty. So imagine our mirth, when we arrived at the central station, to see that one Shoutster and Skid were still firmly ensconced on the train as moved onto its next destination. Combine this feat of idiocy with the fact that neither had bothered to find out the name or the street that our hotel was on. Neither was carrying a mobile phone to boot, so frenzied phone calls were made home until they found the number of one of the squad already sat at the hotel bar quaffing beer. They arrive approximately 40 minutes later. First blood on the buffoon front had been scored. We all took off for some beers and grub next, then onto the Hofbrauhaus, Munichs most famous beer keller. Myself, Splash Stoney and Shouty got stuck waiting for a cab, so when we finally arrived, the place was full, and we were forced to find beer elsewhere, more of which later. The guys who got into the Hofbrauhaus apparently had a ball, apart from Young Jack, a Bender Squad rookie, who was caught trying to liberate a fistful of steins by the doorman. Back to my night out, the trio I was with gained entry to a different keller around the corner, which was fantastic, service was good and the place was rammed. Shouty managed to piss off an Australian, who to be fair seemed a nice enough geezer, by accusing his country of being populated by inbred convicts who possessed the IQ's of Chimpanzee's and of giving the world nothing worthwhile culturally. The poor lad was not best pleased but seeing there were three of us to his one, and although I would have hated to do it, if he'd of slapped the Right Honourable we'd have to sort him out, he mumbled a few expletive's and was off. Shouty next target was the bar tender, who was resplendent in some Bavarian traditional outfit, that did to be fair make him seem slightly fruity. Off went the Shoutster again, making enquiries into sexual persuasion, and trying to wind him up. But this fella was up to the challenge, and after planting a stubbly kiss on the loud one, it was his turn to make him self scarce. Unlike Young Jack, I was successful in my attempt to purloin a stein. My tactic was to simply walk out the door whilst still drinking it. We were on the stroke of midnight by now, and took off to see if any of the squad were back at the hotel. A few more beers were drunk and then off to sleep in preparation of our first assault on the Oktoberfest.



It was up and off at around ten o'clock the next morning, everybody was up and we were off. Yet again buffoonery struck on the U-bahn, Dangerous, Helmet, King Dave and Mad Ad doing the reverse of Shouty and Skid and not getting on the train. As you arrive at the Octoberfest station, you are met by a sea of short pants, and oompah tunes being sung by just about everyone. The main tents were sadly already full, and the queue's were impenetrable, so we went in search of alternatives, and found a Weissbier Garten, that sold half litres of the aforementioned brew at five euro's a pop, and so the boozing began. The weather was grand, and a search party was sent out for the missing four piece, who were found in a beer garden on the fringes of the fairground getting pissed up with an Italian posse of boozers. After circumnavigating the drunken wreckage of bodies strewn along grass verges, we were once again at full strength numbers wise, sadly for the last time, and we got down to some serious boozing.

To be continued..........

Back in Blighty

Ay oop, I am returned from the mother of all benders, and will be presenting a full report on the goings on and extreme buffoonery of our trip to the world famous Oktoberfest, but it will keep till I have recovered all of my faculties. I have posted a photo gallery here, for those who wish to see the stupidity unfold pictorially. I should be recovered fully sometime next week.