Less Than Ten Hours to Go

Hard to believe that after all these years of threatening to do it, whithin 10 hours we will be in Munich for the Oktoberfest. We are returning to Blighty on Monday, and a few of us are going to finish off our bender down at Valley Parade, as we hope to see big Baz finally score a goal. The opposition is Accrington Stanley, and one or two of us have Wendsday off, so more beer is the order of the day. In total 17 of us are making the trip to Bavaria, it is just a shame more couldn't make it.

All Square

It is always difficult to write up the match reports when we lose, and even more so after tonight's defeat. For twenty minutes the Euro boys were sublime, pass and move, tracking back and the like, but although we came close on several occasions, the post saving the cock suckers of the JMF numerous times, we could not open the lead that would have broken the MoFo back. It was best summed up by King Kung Fu Dave's mental goalkeeping, in which he repelled every goal bound shot with Bruce Lee flicks of his flipper like feet. Instead of the usual ten plus goals he can be relied on to concede, his defense was breached but once. Combine this with Jamons laser toe poke from the half way line, and our momentum was halted. Granted they were good for the last twenty minutes of the game, but we let them of the hook, and paid the price. I hate it when those knob jockeys win.

Line-ups;

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

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

2007 Season

• JMF wins -17


• Euro Elite - 17


• Draws - 4

Grey's Anatomy: An Update

It still sucks cock, big time.

It Will All End in Tears

The mighty Cleveland Indians qualified for the equivalent of the quarter finals stage of baseballs World Series over the weekend. As anybody who knows me, all the sport teams I am a fan of, all seem destined to be glorious ( and not so glorious) failures. The Cleveland Browns, my NFL team, are famous for throwing away two championship games in the dying seconds, and have yet to reach a Super Bowl. The England football teams that have coincided, up till now, with my short tenure on this planet, have flattered to deceive numerous times, and have had hope extinguished by penalty on occasion to numerous to mention. The Mighty Bantams are a lesson in futility, our two seasons in the Premiership sun followed by one of the quickest demises to the bottom league witnessed in modern times. The Indians themselves, aka the Tribe, have not tasted a World series triumph since the days when Adolph Hitler still drew breath, and when the chance to end this miserable streak presented itself in 1997, they blew it with one out needed to prevail. But hope springs eternal, and with the Bantams actually looking like they could contend for promotion, and Mr Charisma, Steve McLaren, stumbling upon a competent England team, could this be the turning point in my futile hope to see one of my sporting teams be crowned champions of there respective league/sport? History is against me, and my hanky is at the ready,but in the meantime; GO TRIBE!!!

Three More Sleeps

This must be what Xmas felt like when you were a kid, only three more sleeps till beer Shangri La. Under 60 hours till we embark on the Holy Grail of Lagerhood. The good news is El Grande Queso is partaking, his knee operation has been postponed, so he will be hobbling round Munchen on the mother of all beer benders. The Sheep crew of Wilsden are all meeting outside the Villager at 07:15 hours in the A.M., thanks to Crespo for sorting out Wilsden chapter. Till Friday.....

It Be McTuesday

YYaaaaargghhh ye vinegary breasted barrell rubbers, again me McOdyssey was beyond yer pitiful intelligence. I be fornicating me fries in McColne, on the Yorks/Lancs border in northern England. If I be right, this be meanin' this weeks doubloon total be four. i be settin' sail for the Oktoberfest, so if any of ye' soap dodgin' blow hards be guessin' right, I be payin' out on me return, if that is ye can guess;

"WWWWWhere be McEuro?????

Watch Out for Shouty

Talk of a snap election does not bode well for our fledgling nameless party, but comments like this reported in the Telegraph and Argus should fuel our attempts to oust the bubble heads who currently run the country. As mentioned though, we really need a name for our movement, as it needs to be registered in good time. We have a leader, the Right Honourable Shouty, a campaign manager, my good self, and a treasurer of spotless character, the Mercenary. I am sure this subject will be high on the shite talk list in Germany, but any assistance will be gladly taken under consideration. Every name I have so far come up with has not met with universal approval, The George Party and Pirates for Parliament are among those consigned to the dustbin. Some current suggestions; Acumen Party, RF (Rank and File), MOF (Matter Of Fact), Standard and the PLB Party (Pirates Love Beer). Time is of the essence!

Oktoberfest Offically Starts

Today the Munich Octoberfest got underway, and in under seven days we will be sampling the atmoshpere of the worlds largest beer festival. Unfortunately we haven't been able to secure any reservations, through no lack of trying believe you me, but fortune favours the brave, and much beer will be drunk, whatever the outcome. For those of you with memories like sieves, we fly from Leeds/Bradford at 9:55 Friday morning, and arrive back well lubricated on Monday the first of October at 16:45. For all the sheep worriers of Wilsden, Crespo is organising transport, myself and The Boy will see you at the airport. Anyone who wishes to checkout the official website click http://www.oktoberfest.de/en/02/. I have also found this site, http://gogermany.about.com/od/oktoberfest/tp/topoktober.htm which gives hints and tips on what to expect when we are there. You may be wondering why there is a posting at this time on the weekend. Well I felt my training program was completed last week, and I am skint(all my brass is being put a side in preparation for next week). So I have poured a Polish vodka, flavoured by a herb favoured by the mighty European Bison(?), given as a tip by a grateful Polish geezer whose T.V. I fixed. He suggested to mix it with a touch of apple juice, and I must say it is very nice. Whilst we are in Munchen, we hoped to catch a Bayern game, but unfortunately they are out of town, so if anyone wants to go catch a game it will be TSV 1860 Munchen, Germanys equivalent to Man City, versus Koblenz, on Sunday at 14:00. I am up for it, as it will do us good to get off the sauce for a couple of hours. You can visit the clubs offical website at http://www.tsv1860.de/?id=7746, it is in German, but has a proper gay Euro tune when you click on it, so turn on your speakers. Till Friday, Auf Wiedersein.

Shrimps vs Bantams

Friday the 12th of October is the next away game myself, Crespo, Dazzler and Mossy are taking off for, setting off in the early afternoon to sample the joys(?) that Morecambe has to offer. Crespo might have a spot left in his car, or alternatively anyone else up for it can be met on arrival. Some of us are working the next day, so we will be trying not to go mental, but these things have a tendency to get out of hand. I wonder if they will have fish pie? Mmmmmmm pie.......

Slippery T Saves JMF Bacon

A close game down the Wood was decided in the dying seconds last night, as the shirt lifting JMF grabbed a draw at the death. After dragging themselves back to within one goal after being down by four, Jamon slipped Euro Bri the pig, to tie the game, but then, with only the Brister to beat as the buzzer was ready to sound, he spooned his shot and wasted a golden opportunity to level the series. A tight game from the off, neither side could gain a decisive lead, the Elite goalkeeping, apart from Euro's late lapse, was exemplary, particularly Lefty's Kung Fu save from dead eye. A miss kick from the mercenary was the comic highlight of the evening, a mistake which allowed the Rt Hon Shouty in to score. The most prolific man on the court was JohnnyM, who coolly slotted home a sackful, closely followed by Clogs. For the mincers, Jamon and Funky filled their boots. Another week goes by, and we are now reaching the business end of the season with everything to play for, as the Righteous Elite maintain their slender advantage.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Funky, Dead Eye, Mercenary and King Dave

EURO E- JohnnyMedia, Lefty, Euro Bri, Clogs and Shouty

2007 Season

• JMF wins -16


• Euro Elite - 17


• Draws - 4

Buffoon Update

It has been quiet on the stupidity front as of late, but as always there are a couple moments worthy of note. Queso driving home the other night, and Shouty going to the Boilerhouse/Lingards are at the lower end of the scale, but acquire scoring points all the same. Further up the scale is Lobon, who after overcoming serious back problems, decided he didn't need to tie off his ladders whilst running some cables, and, you guessed it, fell off them when they didn't remain stationary. Myself, Crespo and Queso also score a few points for deciding for no particular reason to start on absinthe slammers. Mossy picked up a good score for wondering out loud why there were no direction signs to Bradford in Lincoln, and Dazzler for claiming we were being followed by a Unidentified Hovering Object, he called it a U.H.O., on the on the way back from the aforementioned town. Most other folk know it as a helicopter. Still nobody has emerged to rival the Funky Pedestrian. His latest episode revolves around his attempt to fight the legal system concerning another speeding ticket. As you all know he is currently serving a six month driving ban. This latest one was not taken into consideration at the time, so he has decided to represent himself in court, and fight the imposition of any penalties on the grounds of tenuous advise he has gleaned from the Internet. His case has currently been adjourned, to a later date, so I may take the day off work to watch The Funky QC fight the law. Roll on Munich.

Shouty for Parliament

The Rt Hon Shouty has finally caved into to his destiny, and agreed to run for Parliament as a candidate for Shipley. Our election manifesto is coming together as well, I will cobble an updated version together for posting before we take off to Munich in just over a week. We now have only one outstanding problem still to surmount, before we begin our journey to reclaim government for the regular man in the street. It is what to call our party. Pirates are out, and we are struggling to bridge the gap between flippant and serious. We don't even have a shortlist to put to the vote. Get your thinking caps on please, as we need to get it registered, just in case Gordon decides to call a snap election. Once we have this in place we can begin to raise funds for our assault on the corridors of power.

Bootiful, me Treasure McStays Mine

Yaaarrrggghhh, ye slimy sea urchin rodgerin' buffoons, none of yez could be figurin out were I be noshin' me McNuggets last week. I had pitched me anchor in McAccrington, Lancashire. I believe this be makin' this weeks booty a worhtwhile treble doubloon jackpot, if ye can be guessin';

"Where beeee McEEEurooooo??"

A Game of Two Halves

The Posh came to the Parade this weekend, and for the first 45 minutes played us off the park, only some King Dave like shooting saw the Bantams hold on to go in at half time with the match locked at 0-0. Whatever McCall said at the interval worked, as we took the game to them and won with a Bower header 10 minutes or so from the restart. My player of the match was Daley, with special mention to Bower and Heckingbottom. Sorry for the brevity of this posting but if you read the one below, you will appreciate I am still recovering.




Baz Watch; On for last 5 minutes. Touches 10, one that had a touch of the Brazilian, moans at ref 2, boots off white, in need of cleaning.

Pie Rating; 5/10 Meat and potato. Dog food consistency, with high indigestion factor. Tasted alright. Not to hot either. Room for improvement. Pricey. Mmmmmm pie.

Absinthe Black-out

After the mighty bantams victory, El Grande Queso, Crespo, myself and the Rt Hon Shouty ended up in the backwaters of Wilsden, via the Black Bull in Clayton, at the old bender haunt the Villager. Helen was also there, and after a few Carlsbergs, Queso broke out the JD chasers. After two or three of Lynchburgs finest exports, young Helen suggested Jagermeister and red bull chasers. Nasty! I can still taste that shit two days later. After two or three of these bad boys, someone broke out a bottle of black absinthe. This made the Jagermeister taste like nectar from heaven. Queso reckons he could run his motor on this foul drink from Hell. After two or three of these MoFo's, I am afraid my tale ends. The next thing I remember was waking up at Crespo's house, with absolutely no recollection of anything that happened in the previous two or three hours. Helen rolled in at around six, after going to Lingards with the Right Honourable Shouty, who is probably not allowed to play out with us any more.

Well do you Punk!

My favourite channel of the moment, TCM, yet again comes up trumps tonight, showing Clint Eastwood at his zenith in Dirty Harry. Bradford town centre could sure use a Harry Callahan to sort out the riff raff. This yet another movie littered with classic lines, as our anti hero fights city hall to save the day.

Clint I know what you're thinking. "Did he fire six shots or only five?" Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?

Robber I gots to know.

A New George Party Policy

King Dave and I have motioned that a policy point be put in place to forward the motion of withdrawing the BBC license fee. We are appalled that we have to pay for Jonathan Ross's outrageous £18 million pound contract, the competition line fiasco, reality shite such as the restaurant, day time garbage and the rest. But the one thing that really winds us up is that we are paying for the abomination that is Eastenders. The mere mention of this shite is enough to give me the dry heaves. Just don't watch it I hear you say. Well for a corporation that isn't supposed to advertise, they seem to run enough "promotionals" during air time, not to mention the billboard campaigns that blight our urban landscape. Every one's talking about it my pucker hole! And still, whether I watch the beeb or not, I have to pay what is by any other name a tax, to fund this tosh. It only costs 37p a day they tell you. Well that's £135 a year, enough to get me to Hamburg and get my balls licked by a busty east european bird, which is highly preferable to funding Mr Ross's taste in wacky blazers. It wouldn't be so bad if the radio output wasn't such PC, liberal let's save the planet awful, but we have to put with that god awful Liverpool supporter Alan Green doing the footy commentary. Memo to Mr Green, nobody gives a fuck what you think. And what is the purpose of Gabby Logan? Is there a more self satisfied human being on the planet? And they keep ramming women's football down our throat on the once great Football Focus. It is shit. End of. Even when they do mange to make a decent show, ie the Office or Top Gear, they then repeat it into oblivion. My Family, Test the Nation, Radio One, What not to Wear, countless panel shows featuring smug comedians being oh so clever, the One show, Dog Borstal, Causality/Holby City and of course Eastenders. The list is endless of dire output funded by me and you. Ask yourself this, how often do you watch the BBC, then work out how much it is costing you. Bet its a damn site more than 49p a day.

JMF Spank Elite...Win by Five

Well it wasn't really a spanking as such, more of a gift, but I found this photo about 11 weeks ago, and didn't think I'd get the chance to use it. It was a game I am still trying to figure out how we lost. For three quarters of the match, we seemed to be strolling towards yet another victory. Yes, we couldn't open up a lead that would have extinguished JMF hope, but everything seemed to be going according to plan. Then, bosh, seven unanswered goals and we were beat. I can only think complacency took hold among our ranks, in which case this defeat was probably needed to re-focus our efforts to prevail at seasons end. To be honest there was no particular performance of note, on either side. King Dave kicked Young gaz out of the game, Clogs forgot that Dead Eye played for the opposition, Lefty took big JohnnyM out and Thommo booted Shotgun. Well the sun shines on the back of every cock suckers head now and again, I am off to try and fathom out how we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory.

Line-ups;

JMF- Lefty, Thommo, Dead Eye, Mercenary and King Dave

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

2007 Season

• JMF wins -16


• Euro Elite - 17


• Draws - 3

A Temporary Name for our Party

Inspiration has still not struck concerning a name for our political party, so as an interim measure it will be known until further notice as the "George Party", in honour of the public house where it was born. My preference for a colour so far is purple, and our symbol shall forever be a one-eyed goose. Thanks to G Spot for posting a link outlining the Rt Hon Shoutys merciless grilling skills. For those who missed the link follow this to YouTube. King Dave has also raised a point for our manifesto, believing we should be bringing home our troops from Iraq, to guard our borders against the seemingly endless stream of illeagal immigrants entering the UK. I would like to expand on this theory, by proposing we replace our soldiers in the middle east with our burgeoning supply of track suit wearing dole scroungers. This will not only remove a vast strain on our benefits bill and prison population, it will also clean up our city centres and provide the Sunni and Sh'ite Muslim's a common enemy to suicide bomb instead of each other. Support for the war would go through the roof. We could also send over their fat arsed, tattoo sporting, beer belly exposing, alcopop swilling, mattress backed bints with them, because if there is a group of people better suited for a bur'qua, I can't think of one. Our next brainstorming session will take place on Friday night at the George, but please post any ideas or thoughts through the comments section, and I will raise them for debate.

I be Returned to McPlanet Earth

Yaaarrggghhh, ye puke swillin' donut lickers, I be recovered from me flashback and be reportin' that nobody be guessin' I was loadin me love handles at McIngleby Road, McBraford West Yorks. The non acid version to ye right should be makin' it clear to all. This be meanin' me treasure chest now be holding two doubloons. A special Yo-Ho, be goin' out too McAki for e mailing me a McVoucher to be BOGOF Big Mac's to share with one of me crew. Of course I be keel haulin'a fella before I be sharin' any of me burgers!

Any ways, I guess all ye poop deckers want to be layin' yer eyes on this weeks McOdyssey, so without further wafflin';

"WWhhere be MMcEEEuro??"

I Know it's not Monday....

But I was felled by a hangover yesterday, so didn't make it down to the right honourable's constituency. It was worth it however, as it was the first time I witnessed in person the Mighty Bantams win two games on the bounce. Hell we even went a goal down to the Imps and still won. It was a very satisfactory display, big Dave Nsungu proving a handful throughout the match and scoring the equaliser after a mazy run by the mighty Omar. More surprising was the source of the winner. After flattering to decieve on the wing once again, Joe Colbeck latched on to a brilliant pass from Big Dave to finish with quite some style. Perhaps playing down the middle is his future, because his crossing was woeful. Man of the match for me was Big Dave Nsungu, with honourable mentions for Fast Eddie Johnson, Wethers and Omar. I have posted a few pics here.

Baz Watch; On for last 9 minutes. Touches 6, moans at ref 9, boots white

Pie Rating; A Pie-rrific 8/10, highly recommended, particularly the Steak option. Mmmmmmmmm pie.

See You Monday

After being tortured with the Eurovision Dance Contest last Saturday, I aim to get back into training for Munich with a mini session in Lincoln tomorrow. We are meeting in Jacobs Well Inn at around 2 pm, before setting off at around 4pm. Honk your horn if your driving past, it makes me feel better knowing your at work. On Saturday evening I am going with King Dave to tour Shoutys soon to be constituency of Shipley, and take in the England game. If any of me liver is still functioning on Sunday, its down the Fleece with Frank. See you Monday.

Chrimbo 2007

Unless anybody else can come up with a better plan, our second annual all day Xmas bender will be around the carpet munching capital of the UK, Hebden Bridge, on either the eighth or the 15th of December. My preference is the 8th as City are home on the other date, but I will go with the flow. This destination has been picked as it's on a train route, and if you get too wankered it's only £20 home in a cab. Any other suggestions, please use comments section.

A Movement Begins

Mark down this date as the first anniversary of our brave attempt to wrestle power back from the privileged elite Westminster, and once again become masters of our own destiny. Although we are still struggling to to name this worthy cause, we have already begun to canvass support for our righteous cause. No longer will the denizens of Shipley be able to say there is no point in voting, as they are all the same, when there is the option of voting for the soon to be Right Honourable Paul Richards (aka Shouty). He didn't seem to over keen at first, but after a few sherberts he warmed to the cause, and gave a classic Shouty speech about the 1954 Magical Magyars of Hungary's World Cup football team. King Dave, Crespo, myself and even the Mercenary have pledged donations to the as yet named party, and will be expecting the same from other Squad members. Our election manifesto is a little bit threadbare at the moment, we have only agreed so far that there should be a Pirate bank holiday(held on a Friday), and a referendum on the European Constitution (?). Remember, Rome wasn't built in a day.

Euro Boys Crusie to Victory

Although the final margin of victory was only two goals, the beating dished out to the limp wristed JMF was of drunken step dad proportions. The early stages were dominated by the Elite with some slick passing and movement, yet the female dodgers some how fashioned a two goal advantage at the quarter hour mark. Four goals from four shots put them in front, although their woodwork had been rattled on umpteen occasions. Their luck couldn't hold forever, as Clogs and Young Gaz levelled before Euro Bri put them into a lead that wasn't to be surrendered. A massacre was now on the cards, but the plucky gaylords hung in, and after king Dave lamed European Bri with one of his infamous kung fu kicks to the ankle, the MoFo made one last ditch bid for glory. Shouty went down injured as well, and the JMF pushed on, putting the Elite goals under intense pressure, but big JohnnyMedia strode forward to curl a blinder past the hapless Pedestrian, which took the wind out of the MoFo's sails. Two late strikes lent the result an air of competitiveness, but the cock munchers were well beaten.

Line-ups;

JMF- Luklear War, Funky Pedestrian, Jamon, Mercenary and King Dave

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

2007 Season

• JMF wins -15


• Euro Elite - 17


• Draws - 3

Bantams Take on Imps

The Boy Dazzler, Crespo, Mossy and myself are taking off early Friday afternoon to watch the Mighty Bantams play the Imps of Lincoln City. Poor old Crespo has offered to drive, and if we can get there for tea time he will be ferrying an undoubtedly drunk trio of geezers home. We can probably make room for one more, but you will need at least half day off work, and it is ticket only entry(Cost £16). This is the first away game we are off to this season, hopefully followed by plenty more. The next one in the pipeline after this one is perhaps the MK Dons on October the 6th, although this may stretch the old finances as it is not long after our return from Munich.

Two Days a go I Saw a Rig that Would Pull that Tanker...

Tonight the greatest action movie EVER is on TCM. Mel Gibson kicks biker ass in Mad Max 2, featuring the greatest chase sequence EVER at the climax. It is laden with memorable dialogue, and is the final appearance of the "Last of the V8 interceptors." They sure don't make 'em like this anymore. A true classic. Shame they followed it up with Thunderdome, which is more than a little stupid.

"A fella, a quick fella, might have a weapon concealed underneath there. I'd have to pin his head his head to the panel..."

McFlashback

Yarrggghh, ye mullet wearing cast aways, that scoudrel McHelmet pinched me preciuos booty last week when he figured I be gorging me gullet in McMadrid, Espana. Not so difficult fer im to be figurin out seein as he be in the photo! Curse im back to the eel hole he squirmed out of. His prize be a record equalling seven doubloons.

This be meanin that only a solitary soverign be yours to earn this week. This photo be capturin me in the midst of of an acid flashback:

"Where be McEuro, maaaannn????"

General Election

A lot of speculation has been in the press lately about the possibility of a general election being held in the autumn. This got myself, G Spot and Shotgun wondering down the George on Friday night, about an earlier posting, when I threatened to set up our own party, if I wasn't such a lazy git. Well we decided, after a few cold ones, that this could indeed be a bit of a hoot. We figure if only 40% of eligible people vote, and their vote is split, particularly in a close seat, you would only probably need 10% of the non voters to show up and put a cross next to your name. This is still a formidable task to achieve, but could be worth the effort. First we need a name for our newly formed party. Being slightly inebriated, we were unable to think of anything suitable, so please feel free to offer any ideas. If we are to be semi serious about this, it can't be too stupid. Secondly we need to appeal to people we don't know, so although a full manifesto is not required, we do need to think of some issues to stand for that actually might make someone vote for us. Again they can't be overly stupid, just a little. A seat that has a small majority, and contains plenty of bender squad sympathetic inhabitants is something that needs to be addressed, and I reckon Shipley is a prime spot. Finally we need an able person to put him self forward to run as our initial candidate for Parliament. Unfortunately, I am unable to put myself up for this honourable task, as I am not a citizen of this country, and due to my terminal laziness, the chances of getting me to fill out the necessary paperwork, are at best slim. What we need is someone who is a local lad. Somebody who talks nonsense with verve and panache, and at an inhumanely high decibel level, so as not to be drowned out by the rabble rousers in the House of Commons. A family man of above average moral conviction with a suitably large ego. In a single word...Shouty. This of course is only my opinion, and any one else willing to nominate another possibility, please do so.

The next issue after we settle on our nomination, is the financial side. To register a new political party costs £150, and we need to name the leader, treasurer and campaign officer. To actually run for a seat requires a £500 deposit, refundable if by some miracle we gain 5% of the vote. So we also need to come up with some fundraising ideas, although if we all chipped in a tenner each we could well be on our way. i am sure if we you all got your mates and their mates, who don't usually register to vote, to do so and put a cross in our box on the ballot paper, we could do better than you think. A chain e mail, local press stunts ie Pirates for Parliament, even handing out flyer's in town centres, I think it's worth doing. So first off, get your heads together and lets think up a decent title for our latest exploit.

Saturday Night TV Sucks!!

I have removed my head from the oven long enough to quickly post why I am trying to top myself. The Elster is watching some abomination called Eurovision Dance Contest, and if that is not bad enough, she is giving me a running commentary as it unfolds. At this juncture in my short existence, I have realised why I try to spend as many Saturdays as possible inebriated down the pub. This stupid arse show is gayer than the JMF dressed in pink at an ABBA gig. Viewing a full series of Grey's Anatomy seems like nectar from heaven at this point. I am off to dig out the paracetamols and a bottle of whiskey. See you in the afterlife.