Happy New Year!!

Well another year prepares to bite the dust (is it me or did the last one fly past?), and after being laid low last time round, I am up for it this year. I was hoping to get to the Grand Quesos, but couldn't find a sitter. So it is into deep buffoon country, as I drag the Elster and the bambinos into Wilsden, to go to a shindig at Nana Gwen's, matriarch of the Jannetta clan, known for their tom foolery at this time of year. I have liberated a crate of DAB from Oddbins, at the bargain price of £19.99, and am good to go. Will update, hangover permitting, on the events of the evening, and lay out plans for 2009.

Hope you have a great one, whatever you are doing, and wish everybody a grand old 2009.

Man Torture

I thought my Achilles heel had been discovered by the Elster. Greys Anatomy was bad, and I figured there could be nothing worse than being forced to sit and suffer through this this whiny dross. Until now. I knew it was coming. She had been to see it not once, not twice, but thrice at the local multiplex. My mother loved it, her mother loved it, all her mates loved it, and it was all I heard about for weeks. Not only was the best of CD bought, but she actually bought the soundtrack of the movie, sung badly by the cast. To top it all, just in time for Christmas, the DVD has been unleashed. No longer can you hide from it by avoiding the cinema, or faking illness, as it now resides in houses throughout the land. Two words, my friends, that should send a tingle of fear sprinting down your spine.

Mama Mia!

I knew it was coming. And I new she would pick a time when I was at my weakest. After a heavy session around Otley, I skulked downstairs, and settled into my hangover chair, to be met by a sound, that to me resembled a cat being strangled with barbed wire. But I was wrong. It was Meryl Streep, in dungarees murdering an Abba song. The movie continued to play out, as a fluid, that was once my brain, began to seep out of my ears. Julie Walters and some American bint sang a song under a bathroom door, to Mrs Streep, as I began to wonder how long the bleach under the sink would take to kill me if I drank it all. Of course the Elster could see straight into my soul, and told me stop spoiling the film for her. I tried to work out how the Hell she knew what I was thinking, when a noise froze my blood. It was surely the sound of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, breaking free form the pits of Hell, signalling the end of times. I cowered under a pillow, as I prepared to meet my maker. "For the last time stop it!" snarled the Elster, as the realisation dawned upon me that it was not the rapture, but Pierce Brosnan, warbling away for all he was worth. I slipped into a coma at this point, only coming around several hours later, vaguely aware that Streep had married Brosnan, and now in possession of a pathological fear of anything Swedish. The next time anybody tells you the world would be a better place if women were in charge, refer them to this movie. From what I can now gather, the female population of the planet think anything can be sorted out by cackling loudly, and then belting out an Abba tune. I shiver just thinking about it.

But the tale doesn't end there. I fully admit, that now and again I can sit through a musical. Hell, I think the Sound of Music is great. Nuns and Nazis? What more do you want? But this is different. I spread the information as quickly as I could. The first pair I warned were Crespo and the Right Honourable Shouty. Crepo seemed to take in my warning, but I got a shock when the Shoutster said the words I thought I would never hear a squad member say. "I liked it" he piped up, and even admitted going to the cinema to see it! I told him he should be ashamed of himself, and he should have his testicles confiscated. For the rest of you, at the first sign of anybody putting the disc in the DVD player, I suggest evasive action. If like me, this proves to be impossible, I prescribe lashings of lager, followed by a viewing of the Great Escape, to regain your equilibrium.

Not Soup-er

Otleyfest has come and gone for another year, and it was sorely lacking something. Namely the Spicy Soup, that began the tradition. They had run out! This upset the Shipley Posse no end, and have taken measures to make sure it never happens again. They have got the pubs phone number, and will ring ahead in future, to prevent anther mishap. This seemed to take the edge of the expected buffoonery. There was a stupid drink competition, one that featured a lump of coal, which I won, when I knocked back a drink containing Leftys snot, but I don't think of that as buffoon worthy. Or am I mistaken? Neil was sick, and we all got split up, I stumbled in at around 2:30, but that was about that. Nil points.



The next night was spent in the Villager, after we had been to the football. Crespo had to work early, so reinforcements were called in, namely Lobon, El Grande Queso and the Mercenary, but after my early head start, twas only myself who was in the running for any points, which duly arrived when i got home, as I tried for some unknown reason to try and mate my washing machine with a dust pan and brush. There is now a compartment that comes fully out, that didn't previously. Worthy of a point. Or is it two? Have just checked the scoring, and it is a definite Muppet, worth two.



Just a quick one to finish on. Brother G-Spot has discovered a retailer who sells the mighty DAB Dortmunder lager. For any of you wishing to get some beers in for house party this New Years Eve, Oddbins, near Baildon, sells it in can form. I highly recommend it. I asked Geevers what his opinion was of the stuff. "It tasted a bit metallicy" he said. "Did you by chance drink it out of the tin?" I enquired. A gormless grin spread across his mush, as he earned himself his first point of the 2009 campaign.

1. Tony Helmet 10 points
2. Euro Bri 7 points
3. Shouty 6 points
4. Crespo 4 points
5. Pembo 4 points
6. Funky 1 point
7. G-Spot 1 point
   

Bantams 4 Shrimpers 0

After not making the last home game, it seemed ages since we had seen the Bantams play. Two 0-0 draws against Chester and Lincoln, had seen us blow a chance to put a bit of daylight between ourselves and the other teams vying for the play off places. In typical City fashion, they start keeping clean sheets, just as our strikers hit a barren patch. To the macth, an injures Thorne missed the game, and a flu ridden Daley started on the bench, which meant our favourite bald headed Irishman was leading the attack alongside Boulding from the off. Our hopes were raised even higher when we caught glimpse of the Morecambe rear guard, who featured tow players who appeared to have scarfed down several Christmas dinners. They made me look svelte. But the first half was turgid stuff, and to be fair we went in one up against the run of play. The Shrimpers fashioned the better chances, but were foiled by Evans. Our goal was well taken by McLaren, but the Morecombe defenders just seemed to stand back and let him waltz through to clip in a cool finish. The second half was a different kettle of fish though. First Boulding extended our lead, followed by a fantastic third from Law shortly after. he made some space, looked up and unleashed a swerver from all of 25 yards to beat the keeper. We were cruising now and a fourth came soon after, more of which later. A competant disply, against a mediocre team, who faded badly in the second half. Special mention goes to O'Brien, who yet again played well, and was worthy of his man of the match selection. Next week is a toughie, against one of our main rivals for an automatic promotion place, Shrewsbury Town. It will a good test of our promotion credentials.

Baz Watch- An excellent performance by "Super" Barry Conlon. Earlier in the week he had signed an extension to his contract that sees him stay with the Bantams till the culmination of the season. It is good news, although if we do reach our goal of League footie next year, it will be time to bid farewell. He is a good solid player at this level, but if we hope to kick on up the leagues, we will be needing players with more ability. But lets not talk the big man down, he was brilliant yesterday. During a first half which saw us on the back foot, he made numerous defensive headers to clear danger. He set up Bouldings goal with a sublime trap and turn, before floating the perfect pass over the top to set him free for a one on one against the keeper. He rattled the cross bar, which Crespo considered a missed sitter (sour grapes, because his beloved Willy was short on skill, and has been jettisoned), before firing in a late penalty to take his season tally to seven in the league, and eight in all competitions. 8/10

Pie rating continues its sabbatical, until I can find a new delicacy, or guest, to give a new rating.

Otleyfest

The last few days have been a bit hectic, so I just have time to post before heading out on Shoutys Shipley Posses annual Otleyfest, for spicy soup and beer. Last year was my first one, and if that was anything to go by, I expect more Buffoonery than you could shake a stick at, especially with Shouty and Lefty in tow. Will up date the rankings tomorrow.

Merry Christmas

Well it's now coming up to half past ten on Christmas Eve, and all that is left to do is wish all the regular readers of my ramblings, and the unfortunates who stumble across this nonsense, a very Merry Christmas. I am afraid I have been a bit slack this year in organising a Chrimbo Shindig, but to be honest everybody seems to be a bit skint. Anyway, I am off to bed now hoping Santa brings me something nice, but due to be ongoing naughtiness, I reckon I will probably receive a few pairs of socks, the modern day equivalent of a lump of coal. Have a cool yule, and I hope you get what you asked for.

Merry Christmas

McYuletide

Yarrghhh ye penguin bothering cod heads, it be I McEuro, back fer the festive season. I knoe I be missing fer a spell since me last McPoseur. I be fighting through the rough McSeas to search down more McSighting fer ye to be guessin'. None of ye could figurin' where i McBe, though I figured the one small step clue would have given my treasure away. I be in the birthplace of Neil McArmstrong, the astronaut, in McWapakoneta, McOhio. I not be knowin' how much doubloons to be riskin' so I will call it five, if any ye bottom dwellers can guess where this weeks McEuro be. It was a blck old night, and docking was not possible, so it can only be McViewed as I sailed by, through the McSleet and McFog, with first mate McElster checking fer McIcebergs. This thar credit crunch be meaning McClues be scarce, so lets see if any of ye can figure,

Where be MMMMMcEuro???

Capital Meatball

This is a bit after the fact, but a couple of weeks ago when I was in the Big Smoke, aka London, myself and my two accomplices, Shouty and Crespo, were in search of a greasy spoon to soak up the previous nights ale before recommencing our deprivations. I knew of a good one on Great Portland Street, but to my horror it was shut. We walked a bit further up the road, and found a deli that was open, and went in, where I immediately clocked a Sicilian Meatball sandwich. I ordered it, and waited for it to be served. There was plenty of meatballs, all in a ciabbatta style bread, but there was a distinct lack of sauce/gravy, which meant it was a bit on the dry side. It was also lacking in spiciness, but on the whole, a very respectable offering. I awarded it an above average 7/10, but it was not in the same league as our friends at the Candia.



Which brings me nicely on to our good friend Sprocket, another Meatball aficionado. While out on a recent shop, he found a Meatball mix, made by Shwarz, and took one home to try out. He reported back to me the other day that he had made up some meatballs at home, and reckoned he had found the secret of the Candias recipe. No I remain sceptical, in my mind the recipe used in my favourite greasy spoon was born in the foothills of Tuscany, where even today, a wizened old Italian women with a moustache and a mole the size of a tennis ball guards the secret mix of the families Meatball magnificence. So the next time I am out I will have to purchase the afore mentioned packet, and get the Elster to knock some together to check it out fro myself. I remain till then unconvinced.

Noodle Noel

Tis the season to be stupid, and with the festive fun truly under way, the expected avalanche of buffoon points has begun. I shall start with my good self. Anybody who has visited Bradford city centre, will be well aware of the number of pound shops that proliferate. Until this afternoon I have managed to avoid darkening the doorstep of any of these establishments, but the Elster asked me to pick up some gift tags for the Christmas presents. I went in, and was amazed at the wide spectrum of folk in there. From the gaggle of Eastern Europeans, via the subcontinent and back with a hoard of Norwegian Snow hatted locals thrown in, it was akin to a small tower of Babel. After rooting around for a spell, I discovered my quarry, and took it off to the cash till, which although long, was moving rather rapidly. Now being a pound shop virgin, I made the most rookie of mistakes. I handed the cashier my purchase and waited for what seemed an age as I awaited the price. After what seemed an eternity, he finally sighed, rolled his eyes and said "Pound please." The penny finally dropped, as it slowly dawned upon my fifty pence brain, that everything in a pound shop costs a pound. I have rated this an Eejit, worth 4 points.

Next up are two further entries, one that for legal reasons needs to be vague, and the other a hurried confession over the phone. Lets deal with the former first. It involves my dark horse prediction Crespo, and involves £40, a toilet and a flush. I was originally going to grant an award of Muppet, due to the fact that he was drunk, but have decided to upgrade it, as he was sober enough to be upset about it. Another Eejit, value four points. The award is that of Muppet, a two pointer, to perennial Noel Noodle the Funky Messiah. Yet again it involves his removal from a night club. "It didn't involve your knob again?" I enquired, but it was only for trying to sneak off from a bar without paying for your drinks, a manoeuvre that is fine and dandy when pulled off, but a sad sack buffoon move if you don't.

This is just the tip of the festive ice berg I fear, as there is much more merriment to be had. For those of you attending the footie match on the 28th, we will not now be attending the Otleyfest, which has been brought forward a day, and is now scheduled for the evening of the 27th. This means that the night after the football game is now free, and up for discussion. There is a party in the Villager, or we can make alternative arrangements, I am game for 'owt. An updated table of the race for the coveted "Maillott Jaune" can be viewed below.

1. Tony Helmet 10 points
2. Shouty 6 points
3. Euro Bri 5 points
4. Crespo 4 points
5. Pembo 4 points
6. Funky M 1 point
   

Apologies

Sorry there hasn't been much action on the blog lately, but you know how it is this time of year. Shopping, Christmas parties, money worries, etc, it is easy to get side tracked. But saying that I have plenty of time to catch up this week, there should be plenty to post on later in the week, both the Otleyfest and the Bantams at home on the 28th mean there is plenty of scope for some Tom foolery. There are no major plans, that I know of for New Years, wich is just as well, as the credit crunch is truly beginning to bite. We shall cross that pasticuliar bridge when we get to it.

Wood Wind Down Won by the JMF

The JMF finished the 2008 Wood campaign with a win in the dead rubber to finish a solitary victory behind the Champion Euro E's. It should have been different, a six goal lead was frittered away. but credit where it's due, and I have to hold up my hands for some of the goals that let them back into the game. Young gaz turned gay for the evening, in place of an absent Dead Eye, and had one of his legendary purple patches to earn the man of the match. First game up next year is on January 8th, when the battle of good over gay resumes yet again.

London on the Razz

I have finally shaken the weekends excess off, and feel in a fit enough state to report on the ins and outs of our antics. Me, Shouty and Crespo took off down on the train, to hook up with Paulcano, Hefner and Steve, to firstly watch the bantams take on the Bees, and secondly to go on bender around London town. The football game is reported below, and i will post an Away Day thread for the actual game. Unusually for such a trip, the weather was lousy, but seeing this was an expedition on home shores, namely dear old blighty, it was indeed to be expected.


So too our first stop. It was decided to stay away from the tourist traps, and try to find a more traditional London experience. Crespo kept pushing for Shoreditch, Shouty wanted Soho (more of which later) and I was up for whatever, so we went with the Paulcano's suggestion, which made a lot of sense. Cambden is just up the road from the digs we stayed in, and we went for it. The first bar was pretty cool, but expensive. The next one I liked, but it was definitely not to Hefners taste. The music was old school Rock and Roll, and the pub seemed to appeal very much to the alternative crowd. Hefners commented on the stench of sweat, beers were drunk quick, and it was off to the tourist haunt of Leicester Square. we found a bar full of foreigners and got pissed. We split up in search of somewhere to find more beer, and found a place on the outskirts of Soho, that was full of Dutch people, who we proceeded to share our Amshterdam accshents with, much to their amusement. Highlight was the Lesbian who took an instant dislike to Kev, when he enquired as to which sex she was. She was the size of a mid size family saloon. Scary. Next up, a night club which we made our way to by rickshaw, much to Shoutys amusement. I bailed at three, after my attempts to dance were seriously impeded by the wobbly legs that I had acquired by this time. I decided on a walk back to the digs, something which I gave up on after an hour or so lost, a fate that also befell my erstwhile partners in crime.





The next morning, Paulcanos crew had a home emergency, and made their way back to Bradford, just as we were falling into our first pub. A Sam Smiths boozer ( you can play spot the cock in the picture to your left) which might be fine and dandy for the real ale connoisseur, but I was in need of Guinness, and they didn't sell it. We had to make do with nasty old Alpine (my arse) lager, which is shit. Off to St Pauls was the next mission, and we made it! Everything was closed, it was Sunday and church stuff was going on, so we had a quick look inside and hit the pub. A stroll along the river, with more than a few beer stops, including a Cologne stand in the Winter market which sold Kolsch, and we were out front of the Houses of Parliament. The plan was to go and shout "Wanker!" at Gordon Brown, but Shouty needed a piss, and we ended up getting rousted on a boat. We made an executive decision to catch the last trian, and everything got a little lairy. Back up to Soho to satisfy Shoutys curiosity, and after a couple more pints and a stop off in a sex shop, we were there, and as predicted we ended up in a gay bar. A very swift beer later, we were in danger of missing the last train, so flew up to Kings Cross, to be met by a 90 minute delay, and the train ride from Hell. It usually takes just over two hours to get to Leeds, but on this night it took over four hours. We decided to open Crespos porn stash, only to be less than impressed by his choice, as you can see in the picture to your immediate right. Got in at around 4:30, but it was well worth it. We are already planning a return trip next year.


For a full gallery please follow the link below;

http://bendersquad.smugmug.com/gallery/6849262_ggaAi#437970299_vTNuC

Bees 2 Bantams 1

I have already written this flipping thing once, but there was a glitch on my computer, and it wiped out everything that I had written. I have given it the most severe of stares, but I cannot be arsed writing out the whole thing again. So this is the gist of it. After McCall made a big deal about the lack of experience of the the Brentford keeper, he performed miracles, one save from Boulding in particular was breath taking. They scored in the 88th minut, we scored in the 90th, they scored in the 92nd. The referee was useless and we wuz robbed. Here is a video of Charlie, Citys number one fan, to cheer you up.




Baz Watch- Came on in 70th minute. Ran round, didn't score. Average 5/10

Pie Ratings- Steak and Kidney, made by Pukka pies. Was actually cheaper than the pies at Valley Parade, £2.40, and the brown sauce was pretty good as well. I was gearing up to give it a very good score indeed, till I got the bottom of the pie. It was burnt black, and the score tumbled down. Could have been so much more, but a distinctly average 5/10



I did, however, fair much better than Paulcano. Our very own pocket sized rocket was denied a pie by the half time rush. He instead had to settle for a different style of pasty stuffed with stuff, the mighty fine, but not quite as fine as a pie, pasty. His weapon of choice was a potato, cheese and onion one, also from the good people at Pukka. But things started badly and went down hill. He opened the wrapper, and a soggy excuse for a savoury flopped out. It had all the sturdiness of a jelly fish, as it limply folded over. The filling didn't look so good either. A baby puke colour with the texture of phlegm. He scored it at 1/10

The Festive Season goes Buffoon

Tis always a good time of year for japery and foolishness, and this festive season has begun in earnest. With nobody challenging Pembos early lead for a month or two there has been little to report. First up a Knobhead (1 pointer) to my good self. Trying to fathom out the London underground, I asked which tube stop was the one one for St Paul's. "That will be St Paul's mate" said the smirking attendant. Next up we have an Eejit (4 pointer). After the Brentford game, we were all sat in a boozer discussing the Heroic display by their keeper, to secure them a victory. "We've got him on loan from Reading, played for Denmark as well" a knowledgeable local told us. "So he's Swedish," opined a not so knowledgeable Shouty. In fact that is so stupid I'm upgrading it to a Fuckwit (6 pointer). But the stupidity in the Big Smoke, was preceded by that rarest of sightings, a full blown Buffoon (10 pointer). If you were to say who was one of the least blessed amongst the Bender Squad at simple house repair, DIY or maintenance, I am sure that the Helmet would figure at the top, or very high on most lists. And with good reason. He has recently moved into new dwellings, and there was an issue with the bath tub not draining properly. "A job for the landlord" I here you shout. But the Tony decided to don his toll belt and sort it out himself. He unclogged several years worth of hair and stuff, to unclog the pipes, and went down stairs to show his missus what a top fella he was around the home. In his haste to show off his masculinity he forget something. Do you know what it was? Yep, that's right. He didn't reassemble the piping. So after the next bath time, he ended up with a lido in his kitchen. John the Don would be proud.. So an update on the current standings is in order;

1. Tony Helmet 10 points
2. Shouty 6 points
3. Pembo 4 points
4. Euro Bri 1 point

With the party season arriving, I expect further entries before the year end, especially as there is the infamous Otleyfest just around the corner. Merry Buffoonmas indeed.

Derby Day Draw for Der Lowen

TSV's recent mediocre form continued as the were held to a one all draw at home in the Bavarian derby against Nurnberg. A crowd of 57,200 saw the final game prior to the winter break, going behind early on, before a 55th minute equaliser. Let's hope we don't see a repeat of last seasons second half of the season. The Lions are eight points off the promotion places, but more worrying is the five points separating them from the drop zone. In Germany there are only two fully professional leagues, and it would be disaster to see the blue and white playing in a regional semi pro Bavarian league. Still hopeful of making a game next year, late March would be preferable, money considerations aside. The home game against FSV Frankfurt still remains the most viable, although Koblenz away in April is another possibility.

Had to Pass Comment

I just couldn't let this one slide. I first heard of it on the radio, in an extended news program, on how some half arsed government think tank was going to try and put youngsters of taking cocaine. It involved some geezer from the Peep Show program, and a stuffed dog. Real cutting edge stuff, they said, that would really speak to the "Kids" and debunk the "Coke is cool" culture of young Britain. Now why on Earth anybody would think any advert would stop someone from doing something, I don't know, but this has to be the stupidest, lamest, most condescending piece of public service film since they thought a CGI slug called Sid would stop us all eating to much salt. It truly beggars belief, that anybody would think that a smart arse stuffed terrier, used to take us on an odyssey of cocaine fuelled tom foolery. You can almost see them ticking the boxes as they dreamt it up. First up is the dodgy dealer, cutting it with headache tablets, and protecting his turf with a nearby pistol. The grungy night club with some young slapper snorting off a bog seat, while we get a cut scene showing her pumping like the clappers. My favourite is the agitated young fella, who tells the toy pooch to "STOP STARING AT ME!!!!" before giving it a slap. Shame someone didn't extend the same treatment to the fat head who thought this trash up. If you haven't had the pleasure of this uncut grade A nonsense follow the link below.

'Talk to Frank' - Pablo The Drug Mule Dog anti-cocaine advert

I'll wager my left testicle, that this will have no effect at all. In fact quite the opposite. The message I took away from this was that if you snort Charles, it makes you think stuffed animals can speak, and are very droll and dead pan at that.

Helmet Crunch

With just a week to go till our Bender trip to the Big Smoke, the credit crunch has claimed Helmet, whose TV has gone on the Fritz, and will be unable to join us on our jaunt to the capitol. I have searched in vain to find a taker for his non refundable ticket, but with everybody tightening their belts, there was no takers. So it is a magnificent seven of myself, a returning Dazzler, Crespo, Shouty, Paulcano, Jimmy and a new face called Steve. (We will work on their nicknames over the weekend.) The last three are driving down, meeting us somewhere in Kings Cross, before we head off into the wilds of Brentford to watch the Bantams take on the Bees. The reason for undertaking this particular away journey, is the fact that Griffin Park is the the only ground in the football league to have a pub on every corner. Afterwards we are off into the bright lights, Shouty wanted to go round SoHo, but I think we are aiming to do something a little less touristy. Sunday is at our leisure, take in a couple of sights, swill some more beers, and head home.

Of course this is not the last blast of 2008, that is on the 28th of December, date of this years Otleyfest, for spicy soup, and to see what antics Lefty gets up to this year. I expect a slew of Buffoon points to accrued. Afterwards it is on to the casino, for more japery.

The Cream Finally Rises

Just when it all seemed to be going Pete Tong, and that darkness would indeed rule the year of 2008, the Euro Elite finally regrouped, and put together a performance worthy of their hard graft of earlier in the year. After a run of seven victories had seen the righteous have their eight game advantage whittled down to a solitary game, the pendulum seemed to have swung firmly towards the shandy drinking MoFo. The early exchanges were tight, an inspired performance between the sticks from the Shoutster repelled the Gaylord tide time and again, preventing a healthy advantage being taken by the forces of gay. The last few weeks have seen some wasteful shooting by the Euro boys, but it wasn't to last forever, and with late substitution Young Gaz drafted in, our superiority soon reaped dividends. But the JMF are not the soft touch of the summer months, and although they found themselves six goals down, did not give up the ghost. A purple patch saw them pull back to within a single score, but the effort was to prove their undoing. As they laboured to find an equaliser, gapping holes were left at the back, and Young Gaz exploited them mercilessly, setting up Two Scoops, Clogs and myself, before applying the coup de grace with the goal of the evening. Finally the victory we had need since early November was ours, and the title of Wood Winners 2008 belonged to the Euro Elite. Usually I would have gloated, and rubbed my cock munching opponents nose in to the dirt, but an overwhelming sense of relief was the order of the day. Man of the Match, by a nose over Clogs and Shouty, went to Young Gaz, whose nose for goals proved the difference. Next week is dead rubber, before hostilities recommence on the 7/01/09, when we once again start from scratch.


Apologies in the photo to Dr Shotgun, JohnnyMedia, Young Gaz and Clogs for not featuring in the photo. It's late, and this is the best picture I could find to doctor.

Line-ups;

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

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -23



• Euro Elite - 25



• Draws - 0

Souper Mmmeatballs

At this frosty time of the year, nothing goes down better than a nice hot bowl of soup. As I perused the selection available in the co-op, I stumbles across a new "World" selection of soups, featuring a Mexican chilli style one, an Indian curry variety, and this offering from the shores of Italy, Meatball and tomato. Of course in the interests of the Quest for the Holy Meatball, I had to purchase it. After years of ordering food in fast food joints, I was prepared for the reality to be nothing like the picture, and the full plump balls of joy shown on the tin, turned out be battered into little shrapnel bits amongst the tomato soup. Were they to be redeemed by the taste? Although they were nowhere the standard of the mighty Candia, or even close to the dastardly skin flints of Skankway, they were more than passable. The next time a cold snap in the weather requires a hot tonic, I will have no hesitation in harnessing the huskies, and braving the freezing conditions of Clayton to high tale it to the co-op. As meatballs 4/10, as a soup 7/10.

Bantams 1 Daggers 1

A strange game. There were moments of half decent play, including a fantastic goal by Michael Boulding, but most of the game would not looked out of place on a park pitch on a Sunday morning. This is not to belittle Dagenham & Redbridge, if it hadn't been for a slew of spectacular saves from Evans they could have left with all the points. Which made their equaliser all the more hard to take, as the keeper pushed out a cross he probably could have left, which fell to a Daggers player who slotted it home. This after a lightening break by City for the first goal. A beautifully floated cross was converted with panache by Boulding. This made up for some pretty terrible first half shooting, firstly from the on loan Jones, secondly, and more surprisingly, Peter Thorne, who missed a sitter, to be fair. So in the end a draw, which had the ref not waved away a couple of decent penalty shouts, could have been worse. The travelling away fans were scarce, Shouty actually counted them, and he came up with the same figure as the T&A, 89.

Baz Watch- Came on as a second half sub, for an out of sorts Thorne. Put himself about, as usual, but nearly gave away a penalty. He created a couple of half chances, but was found wanting with a header late on. But we did learn something new about our smooth headed Irish front man. Sat behind us was an injured first teamer, whose identity shall remain secret, but he has a tendency to run fast with his head down, and a couple of squad players. They must have been discussing the teams Xmas party. It would appear Clarkey is the party animal, although Thorney could probably sink a few as well. What surprised me and Crespo, was when they said that Bazza was wankered after three or four pints! Pretty poor for an Irishman. But then again he could be a bit like the Boy Dazzler, who gets drunk drunk pretty rapidly, but can keep up the drinking for hours on end. Back to his display on the pitch. Above average, nothing spectacular. 6/10

Pie Rating- I forget to get one this week, but will be reporting from Brentford next week. In the mean time, a Health and Safety tip, brought to light after MoleCat nearly scalded himself. Sometimes at Valley Parade, and I am sure this applies to numerous grounds up and down the country, the filling can be of temperature akin to the surface of the sun. Even an experienced pie man, such as myself, has fallen prey to the phenomena. My advice? Do not attempt to eat the pie straight from the dish into your gob. Ask for a plastic spoon at the point of purchase, and attack your pie from the top. It is thus possible to gauge the heat of your pastry, and continue in a manner that will not result in facial scarring.

Chokers

I hate to say it, but after holding an eight game advantage, with only a solitary victory required, we have choked. Badly. It was a so so game, scrappy to say the least, but the JMF took their chances, we spurned ours, and now it comes down to a one game advantage with two to play. I can't really say more than that. There wasn't a really stand out performance, King Dave probably just earned the man of the match honours The burning question is "What if it does go the final game?" We argue like a bunch of school girl bitches at the best of times, so if the season was on the line, I figure we might just mange three minutes of actual play. So we may need a referee, or just have a free for all in the style of the old Etonian wall game. Lets hope it doesn't come to that, and we can put the cock munchers out of their misery next week.

Line-ups;

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

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Clogs, Euro Bri and Dr Shotgun

2008 Season

• JMF wins -23



• Euro Elite - 24



• Draws - 0

Elster. Snow. Car. Nooooooooooo!

It has been icy and snowy in the West Yorkshire region over the past two days, and lucky for me I had the day off today. A perfect day for a lovely sleep in, under a lovely warm duvet, or so I thought. At about 7:30, I was disturbed by a commotion downstairs, before the Elster flew into the bedroom in a rare old state, babbling wildly about her car and the garage. It appears she decided to defrost her motor, so started up the engine to get the blower working, whilst she got a scraper. The problems began to mount when she didn't take the car out of gear, before laying off the clutch. The car lurched forward, hit ice, closely followed by the garage door. After a spell of of name calling between ourselves, she announced, in a way that only women can, that although I was a sleep, snuggled up nice and warm, oblivious to her foolish plans, that it was all my fault. it seems I had parked my van in inconvenient place, somewhere in the local district post code. She took off in a huff, I went back to bed, and after a few hours, i finally got a confession that I was indeed fault free, and that the accident was of her own doing. She did try to claim some moral high ground though. When she explained what had happened, the insurance guy told her she was the fourth person to do it today.

Tenner says they were all women............

Stop the Nonsense

It has been a while, I know, since the subject of "Stop the Nonsense " has featured on these pages. But it has not disappeared. Brother G-Spot has been tweaking and refining a web site dedicated to the crusade to reintroduce common sense back into everyday life. Part of why it has taken a spell to get up and running is down to me, I have been busy lately, but the combination of poor weather and the tightening of purse strings, means I have been able to dedicate some time to this venture. The site is up and running, although still a work in progress, and the forum runs runs off it as link, or as a stand alone page. Some work needs to be done on the home page, at the moment it is basically just the latest articles that I have posted (anyone who has something worthwhile to add, please feel free), but we can hopefully rectify this shortly. So the link to follow is;

http://www.stopthenonsense.org.uk/

Spread the word, send out the address, and let's see if it was all pub talk, or if we can really make a difference.

A New Entry??

I am not to sure about this one. Is it worthy of Buffoon points, or just a little bit worrying? I was ringing around to check that we had ten players for tonight's face off down the Wood. I figured I'd give old Two Scoops a ring to make sure he was up for it. He answered the phone chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?" I enquired. "Don't want to say" he said. But after a bit of pressure confessed he was laid on his sofa watching LOOSE WOMEN! And he sounded to be enjoying it! Now this could be just a small lapse in judgement, but I put to the floor that being caught watching this show is worthy of at least one Buffoon point. Do I have a seconder?

Meatball Crunch

Shame on Subway. Are things really this bad? First up, the last time I went into Subway, and I mean the last if they don't sort this out, on Meatball Marinara day ( Tuesday for the non Meatball Maniacs), I was in for a rude shock. They had bumped the price up to £2.10! A massive 10% hike! I was appalled and informed fellow Meatballer, Sprocket, who couldn't believe it either. Since then the Clowns, otherwise known as the Government,, have cut VAT back to 15%, so the price will have dropped again. I was considering giving the filthy money grubbers another chance, when I received a text today from the aforementioned Sprocket. He was in the Pit of Hell, aka The White Rose Shopping Mall, when an urge for Marinara overcame him. The price indeed had returned to it's £1.99 Sub of the day price, but you will never guess what the evil fuckers have done? They have cut back by a meatball!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wankers! Instead of the regular 4 meatballs in a six incher, they now give you three!!! Well they stick their sandwich's up their arse, Sprocket and I will be launching a two man boycott from today. Anyway, is it me are they becoming a little bit all pervasive anyway. A new one on Legrams Lane, and a planned one in the refurbished Myrtle Walk in Bingley is, let's be frank, reaching saturation levels.

Thankfully, Skankway are not the only purveyors of meatballs, and I would like to enter another worthy entry to the Panthenon. I went to the Ring o'Bells pub just outside of Thornton for a recent birthday, and sampled a starter of lamb and spinach meatballs with Tzatziki. An interesting take on the traditional style, and very tasty, but the Mighty Candia need not worry. They were perfect as an entree, got the old taste buds ready, but weren't spicy, and that's the way I like 'em. Saying that though, I could scarfe a plateful of them right now.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmeatballs...........................

Gender or Bender?? New York City

This week we spread our wings a little further, as we leave continental Europe behind and cross the Atlantic, to New York City, the self styled capitol of the universe. I have visited on a couple of occasions, once with the lads, and once with the missus (although I took the Boy Dazzler along as a contingency plan). So is the Big Apple truly the city that never sleeps? Or is a shoppers paradise, full of cup cake eating Sex in the City wannabes??

Price- The latest slide of the pound against the dollar aside, this place can either max out your card, or if you are willing to slum it, a reasonable priced Metropolis, given it's standing as the financial centre of the universe. Visiting out of season is the cheaper option, flights and hotels tend to have special offers, but it can get Arctic cold, so my advice is to stump up the extra and go in May/June. Hotels vary wildly in price, if you are with the lads in shared digs reasonable, if you take a bint, quite expensive. Beer is pretty affordable, in comparison with say, London or Paris, but not as cheap as West Yorkshire. Don't take your beers to a table if you order at the bar though. The waitresses don't like it. If you are stood propping up the bar, tip well, and chances are the tender will get you a round in. 5/10

People- Famous for being pushy and rude, I was a little disappointed. Most of the natives were pretty friendly. All the arseholes seem to hang out hang out in the so called Bohemian districts, such as Greenwich Village, or SoHo. The folk who live, work and frequent such districts are in a serious danger of disappearing up their own butt holes. Like most major Metropolises, tourists predominate, especially around tourist haunts like Ground Zero, and the Empire State Building. If you want to find anywhere, or get lost, ask a concierge, or hotel doorman for directions, as nobody else seems to where anything is. 7/10

Stuff- There is more stuff here than you can shake a stick at. Shopping, Art, Attractions, Baseball, Gridiron and tons of bars. I didn't do any nightclubs, I really don't need some wanker telling me I am wearing the wrong pants, but there are loads of bars, most serving until at least 2a.m., more often4. A good choice of tittie bars, I recommend Flasdancers, just off Broadway, between 52nd and 53rd. You pay an entrance fee, there is a floor show and table service. The girls cover the four corners of the globe, are big time fit, and there is a distinct lack of silicone. Don't fuck around though, the bouncers make the one's at the Banana Bar look like pygmies. A fine place to spend the afternoon is Grand Central Station, one of the most awe inspiring buildings these eyes have clapped on. It has a concourse running underneath with numerous bars and food joints, my favourite is the Mexican one. Frosted glass and Tequila. Mmmmmmmmmm 10/10

Reputation- The city that never sleeps. Apart from Sunday nights, when it is strangely quiet. Everybody has something they want to do, or see when they get there. From the old Mafia haunts of Little Itlay, to the vast shopping Meccas of Macy's and Bloomingdale's. I defy anyone not to like the place. 10/10

Intrigue- If the Credit Crunch wasn't in full swing, and I announced a soiree to the Big Apple, the take up would be good. The problem is everybodies bint would want to go. Probably more than the geezers. Friends and Sex and the City have an awful lot to answer for......8/10

Verdict- 40/50 A great place for a lairy weekender with the lads, but.... it is a slightly better place to take the missus, especially if she doesn't mind you taking the Boy Dazzler along for when she's swanning around Macy's. Blow jobs and Kisses, with the missus..................GENDER (just)

It be Two

Yargggh, ye poodle scratching clinker sniffers. None of ye worked out that I be slurpin' shakes in McColombes, near Paris, in McFrance. Yer clue be Escape to Vicxtory, this bein' where the classic flick be McFilmed when McRocky saves the Nazis penalty. This means yer treasure chest be McDoubled. This week be a small step on me gret adventure of early in the year, as I McGuzzled me way thorhg a vast array of McStates. So can any of ye figure;

Where be McEuroooooooooooo???

Football Round Up

Not a good week. First up the Mighty Bantams. My dream of a magical cup run was cruelly dashed for the 30th consecutive year, as Leyton Orient sent us crashing out of the FA Cup. This means no glamour trip to one of the big boys this year, and to compound matters, the Bazmeister was taken off injured, just after the half hour mark. Boulding equalised, but the O's earned a tie against the Blades of Sheffield with a goal 15 minutes from time. Next up is the Daggers, and the week after that, a credit crunch busting trip to the Big Smoke to watch the boys take on the Bees of Brentford..

On the German front, TSV proved to be their usual inconstant selves, blowing a three goal lead at home. The visitors only had one shot in the first seventy minutes, but still managed to knock in three, thereafter, scoring the equaliser in the 90th minute. Next up, Alemania Aachen away.

No Steak Waving

Two out of three ain't bad. A Meat Loaf song? No, me and El Grande Queso, went to a casino, along with the Shoutster, and actually left winners. I figure I pocketed about £120, and the Grand Fromage was in the £300 region. Poor Shouty was in the hole, but not massively. To be on the safe side though, we celebrated with cheese sarnies, as the are considered to be wave proof, unlike prime sirloin, which is ideal for shaking back and forth at members of staff. The pickles were seriously sour tasting. It took two hours for my face to become unpuckered. In fact I hold the is food item responsible for my inept showing at five a side the following night. It has nothing to do with me rolling home at 5:45 in the morning.

Bag of Shite

That is exactly what we were last night, as the rampant Gaylords of the JMF, stuffed us like a they stuff rent boys. We were awful from the start, down by five goals in no time, and not even managing to to breach the nets guarded by King Dave. It was all down hill from there. Funky took out Shouty, I repaid the favour, and words were exchanged, before I head butted him. I still feel bad about it now, and apologise profusely. I blame all those Premier League players for being such poor role models. You would of thought this would have stirred us into action, but we just stunk worse. If you take away the goals scored by Clogs, we would have managed just a solitary score. My largess a few weeks ago, in letting the evil female dodgers claim victory when Crespo had to retire injured, looks a bit premature now, as I figured to have the 2008 title sewn up, but here we are with only three games left, and a mere two games ahead.

Line-ups;

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

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Clogs, Euro Bri and Mercenary

2008 Season

• JMF wins -22



• Euro Elite - 24



• Draws - 0

Bantams 3 Spirerites 2

Who'd have thought it. Two nil down in twenty minutes, and all over the place. Shouty even said "If it gets to four nil should we get off to the pub?" and it seemed plausible. Matt Clarke was having a nightmare at the back, the Chesterfield strikers seeming to go past him at will, and we looked finished. But just 6 minutes after conceding the second goal, Lee strode forward to bury an exquisite free kick into the top corner. It gave City the lift that was required, and unbelievably, ten minutes later it was all square, Boulding heading home from a Nicky Law cross. The second half opened well, we were in charge now, and when on the three quarter mark, Law was upended in the penalty area, all seemed well. The Spirerites defender was sent for an early bath, and "Super" Barry Conlon dispatched the penalty. Of course, with ten men we should have seen the game through to an easy conclusion, but it was all hands on deck for the last five minutes, Evans pulling off another great save to deny an equaliser. Three more points, and up to second place.

Baz Watch- Played the whole game, and was in vintages Conlon form. He put himself about upfront, the usual mix of deft flick ons, and woefully timed headers, but he truly came into his own in the second half. It was the Bazmeister who sealed the victory, with a cheekily chipped penalty, which also marked his 100th league goal. He set up what looked a perfectly legitimate goal for Thorne, but was judged, harshly in my opinion, to have been off side. He was even singled out as man of the match, by the stadium announcer, which I thought was a little too much. I thought Boulding probably shaded it. Big up to Baz though, and congrats on the one hundredth goal. 8/10

There is no pie rating for this game, as no one who hasn't featured before, tried one. Maybe next time.

Lowen Sink Rostock

It doesn't happen often, but this weekend, both the Bantams and der Lowen won. TSV won by the only goal, a Benny Lauth effort, away to Rostock, to halt a two game losing streak. They are now sitting in eighth place, six points off the promotion places. Next week it is SV Wehen Wiesbaden (?) who visit the Allianz. With only two more games before the Bundesliga takes it's winter break, which lasts a month, it would be nice to see Der Lowen close the gap, making way for a promotion push in the new year. Our trip to see them is up in the air at the moment, every bodies finances are a cause for concern, but where there is a will, there is a way.

Life Begins for Dead Eye

We stuck to the path, and gave the Slaughtered Lamb a wide berth, as we ventured into the wilds of Sutton, on the fringes of the Yorkshire Dales for Dead Eyes fortieth birthday bash. Me and Crespo were feeling no pain when we arrived, a combination of little food, and loads of lager, meant we were wobbling long before the Mercenary collected us, plus the lovely Helen from the Prune Park. We rang loads of Taxi firms, till we found one that didn't know where Sutton was, and agreed a price of £15 to take us there, a mistake I will wager they don't make again. Nobody else would it for less than twenty five knicker. Lobon and the equally lovely Knock were already at the bar when we got there, and the binge drinking got under way. Crespo tried to wind up the Mercenary most of the evening about Leeds, but was in no fit state get him to bite. The ladies embarked on a Tequila binge, even managing to get Crespo to drink one, which he nearly left on the carpet. Of course, this being a fortieth birthday bash, there was music, this time in the form of a very good, if a bit wrinkly, band, who belted out some old T Rex tunes. Of course, being full to the brim with fizzy lager, and groovy music playing, I totally lost track of the fact I am rapidly approaching my 41st year and hit the floor, getting down to some serious "Bad Dad" dancing. Kids dived for cover, as I did my customary grooving, much to the mirth of those around me. But it must have some weird hypnotic power, as I was joined by the two lovelies I mentioned earlier. Thankfully Lobon and Mercenary couldn't work out the video function on my camera, and only one blurry picture is proof of my funky ass moves. We somehow managed to find another taxi driver to get us home, this time for £20, and I went back to Crespos for beers. He went straight to bed, bless him, and I stayed up to dazzle his other half with my wit and wisdom, only to find that half way through one of my scintillating anecdotes, that she had fallen asleep. I made my way to the spare room, and succumbed to my drunken stupor. Growing old disgracefully rules.

Millers 0 Bantams 2

First up the match. It was colder than a penguins chuff, and the first half did little to warm the cockles, as I felt City were lucky to make into the changing room all square. It seemed only a matter of time, as the Millers seemed to get crosses in at will during one spell, only for their strikers to continually miss the target. McCall must have torn the side a new arsehole at half time, and we dominated the first ten minutes. But yet again, we let them back into the game. With a quarter of an hour to go, any City fan in the ground, with the possible exception of Charlie, would have settled for a draw. But that was not on the mind of the impressive O'Brien. Having put in yet another valiant display, he broke forward, the Rotherham defence backing off, till he reached the edge of the opposition penalty area, unleashing a cutler past the keeper. minutes later Evans pulled off a wonder save, I have seen it on the Virgin Media site as we were so far away from the action, and Daley broke out, starting a move that saw Nicky Law plant a shot past the keeper ( I thought it was Boulding at the time, it was that far away) to tie up the game. I thought the Rotherham keeper should have saved it, but they all count. Three points mugged, but come the end of the season who will care. Bring on the Spireites.



Baz Watch- Our shiny domed hero came on as a 70th minute sub, the crowd chanting his name as he burst forth from the dug out. He wasn't to continue his recent goal scoring form, but did give us a moment of pure Barry magic. The ball was played into the left sided channel, where Bazza had shaken off his marker, and was in a flat out sprint to try and stop the ball going into touch. As he came towards the ball, he leaped up, back heeled thin air, and was taken out by a sniper somewhere in the stands, as he went sprawling. Pure Conlon. 5/10

Pie Rating- A good choice of Pukka pies. Cheese and Onion (for the limp wristed veggies), Balti, Steak and Kidney and my choice, Meat and Potato. Which made me think "Why do they call it Meat and Potato? Are they some how ashamed of the meat substance in it? Is it Bulls balls, or pig anus or something?" A thought I will ponder another day. The pie was £2.50, which is pretty much par for the course, but the temperature of it was perfect. Hot enough to warm you up with out melting your tongue. It was full of meaty stuff, and spuds, and the pastry was nice and flaky. Points are however withdrawn for the choice of sauce. Ketchup is all fine and dandy for chips, or even a chicken and mushroom pie, but a good old M&P screams out for brown sauce. The nearest they had? Barbecue!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What the Fuck!!!!!!! Weirdos. This was the only fault I could find though, so it gets a high mark of 8/10. Sorry about the picture, I forgot to take a photo till after I ate it, and couldn't be arsed queuing for another.

Is there a colder place in Britain, than an open air athletics stadium, on a freezing cold November night? There can't be many. To top it all, it is surrounded by a running track, so the action takes place miles form the stands. A fine place to watch a bunch of drug fuelled fellas wearing Lycra body suits, but a shite venue for football. Because it is a big open bowl, only one side of the place has any fans, leaving massive open spaces all around. For those of you old enough to remember, it reminded me of those old Communist style arenas that you used to see in the seventies. Ugly beyond belief.

Statistics

• Capacity-25,000
  
• Concessions-The only good thing about the place. It is indoors, heated, and serves beer pies, and hot dogs. I have given them the benefit of the doubt on service, as I don't think thwey expected around 2,000 people to brave the freezing weather.
  
• Built-1990, although it must have been copied off a Soviet blueprint from 1973
  
• Did You Know?- It is the shittest place I have ever seen a football game.
  
• Visited By-Euro Bri and Crespo
  
• Rating- Garden Shed. It may be the finest athletics arena in the land, but as a footie stadium it sucks cock.

Too Clever by Half

Yarrggghhh, ye scallop baiting chowder heads, it be seemin' that me treasure is getting to easy to be winnin'. McG-Spot figured right that I be munchin McMuffins in McDublin, on the McEmerald Isle. This week be a devlish offering fer ye. I will be needin' the exact location, if ye figure to be escaping with a victory doubloon. I be sure the country be easy to figure, so that is why I be wanting the address. So fer a golden coin, can ye be guessin';

Where be McEuroooooo??

Co-Op Bound

Guess whop is back at the Co-Op? Dangerous Pete is newly arrived back in Blighty, and having to work off some of his debt, working back at his former employer. Seems like ages since he's been gone. The lads had a great time, and even acquired himself a girlfriend, but as is always the case when you return home after all that fun, a little sad to be here. He filled me in on the many aspects of his trip. He discovered, as most people do, that Australians are possibly the dullest folk on the planet. He turned me green with envy, when he was in Vegas he stayed at the Hooters Casino, and told many a tale of fun and buffoonery. I would also like to extend a warm welcome to the Munich Club, when he fessed up to "Sharting" his pants whilst on the razz. My suspicion is there are more members of this club that are shying of coming forward. He was however distraught to find that his trademark head wear, the bobble hat with ear covers and and dangly pom poms, has been appropriated by the chav underclass of Bradford. He will not be wearing one any time soon.

Welcome Home Pete...

Scuppered by Last Minute Sub

By 'eck, we are making hard work of this. For the first time in three weeks, we had ten players, but a last minute replacement for Queen Jamon tipped the balance. He set off at a right old lick, and before we knew it we were six goals in the hole. A herculean effort saw us pull level, but an out of sorts and a profligate lefty were to much of a burden to bear. With the game finely balanced, Lefty let in a soft strike to forsake our lead, and the game was up. We tried our best, but a lack of composure in front of goal led to our down fall. Young Gaz swept in a quick couple, and Luklear buried another at the death, as we fell to a three goal defeat against the rampant Homo's of the JMF. Not wishing to blow my own trumpet, I was of course fucking brilliant, but in my own estimation, I pulled off probably the greatest save in Wood history, to repel the Blond Bomber who was filling in for Jamon. He hit a swerever, flying at the speed of light towards the bottom right hand corner. Seeing it late, I sprang cat like, fully parallel to the floor, clawing it around the post, just as the MoFo were preparing to celebrate a goal. Gordon Banks eat your heart out. Of course seconds later, Funky hit one straight at me, which I some how manged to rebound into my own goal off my face. Speaking off which, I have found a cure for a stuffed up nose. Place ones face immediately in front of football moving at cannon ball speeds. Hey Presto! Not only is snot removed, but fragments of bone and blood. It still hurts now. So three up with four to go, as the limp wrists cling on.


Line-ups;

JMF- The Blonde Bomber, Funky, Lukelear, King Dave and Young Gaz

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Lefty, Euro Bri and Crespo

2008 Season

• JMF wins -21



• Euro Elite - 24



• Draws - 0

Still Feeling Lazy...

Apologies for the lack of action, I am still suffering from a chronic bout of extreme idleness. It doesn't help that nowt exciting has been happening, but that could all be about to change. Another "Away Day" is on the horizon, this time to Sheffield to watch the Millers of Rotherham take on the Bantams, followed in the evening by a trip into sheep worrying country for Dead Eyes fortieth bash. I will remember to stick to the path. This is closely followed by a home game against the Spirerites, my own birthday celebration following on at the Casino. After this, we begin to get into Xmas party season, we haven't decided on a date or venue for this years Squad bash. On top of this there is the trip to London, and on the 28th of December, Shoutys Saltaire Posse's annual Otleyfest. Spicy soup ahoy!!

That's about it on the Bender front, just a quick update on Der Lowen, who after a seven game unbeaten run, have now lost consecutive games by the score of 1-0. Only a few weeks to the German winter break, it would be nice if they could put a bit of a streak together. I am probably ordering some stuff off the official site for Christmas, so if anybody wants to share the shipping cost let me know.

Another Fiasco

Didn't get the numbers right again, all this chopping and changing is not easy to keep up with, so four heroic Euros boys, took on a full compliment of shirt lifting JMFer's. Alas, we could not emulate last weeks miracle win by four, so the count is down to four, with five to play. I am determined to get the numbers right this week.

Line-ups;

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

EURO E- Shouty, Two Scoops, Euro Bri and Crespo

2008 Season

• JMF wins -20



• Euro Elite - 24



• Draws - 0

Gender or Bender?? Amsterdam

Hey you crashzy English Mother Fuckersshhhs, this week we are in one of Europes favourite party towns Amsterdam. This is a place I have visited many times, three stag nights alone, even though I don't smoke draw, and am far to tight to pay for a shag. So what of the capitol of the Netherlands? Is it a place for debauchery and hedonism with the lads, or a nice place to rekindle the flames of passion with 'er indoors? I suspect you are all ware of the final outcome, but here goes..

Price- Like any main city on the continent, it's going to be more expensive than Bradford, but considering that it is a seriously popular destination, it ain't that bad. Yes some places can charge way over the odds, but on the whole not too bad. The euro has caught the pound up since my last sojourn, but if I figure it compared to my recent trip to Ireland, it still shades Dublin on price. Because it is quite a compact town, getting around by Shanks Pony (walking for those under 30) is easy enough, which is just as well, as the Taxis are all Mercs and Beamers for a reason. For those who are single, and in the interest of science, the last time I went a jump was around 50 euros. Also, they do not do it for free, a rubbing your penis up against the window cuts no ice either. For those of you on a tight budget, wank booths are a cheap alternative to hotels, comfy and warm, just make sure you are in a 24 hour one, or they come and wake you up at closing time. Highly embarrassing if you wake up with your trolleys around your ankles and your limp pecker in your hand. If you want to experience something truly Amsterdam, I recommend the Banana Bar, but if you have rocked into town with the missus, give it a miss. 4/10

People- They are seriously tall. And speak English, almost to a man, in that cool as fuck Martin Jol kinda way. The locals are pretty cool people, unless they are on a bicycle, at wich point they seem turn into knob heads. Of course, the place is known for it's laid back vibe, and it doesn't disappoint. It seems if you want to do something, that isn't going to harm anybody else, they pretty much let you get on with it. There are always some, shall we say, interesting sights around and a bout. The only thing the place really loses out on, is the number of skankers that are around. If you haven't been ripped off once, you haven't really been. 9/10

Stuff- Hard to fault the place on this one. From window shopping and Sex shows, to the highest of high art (Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Van Dyck), there is something to cater for every taste. For football fans there is Ajax (don't drink the beer inside the stadium, it is alcohol free wank), which boast a fine state of the art stadium. There are canal tours, the Ann Frank house, canals, smoke shops, the Heineken tour or just sitting out on the Leidseplein with a cold beer watching the world go by. A seriously cool place to spend a long weekend. 10/10

Reputation- It has an excellent/terrible reputation, dependant on wether you piss standing up or sitting down. If I said I was to organise a trip, the uptake would be large and immediate. Too immediate. Everyone always says "Yes" straight away, but then have to break it to their other half, which has been the down fall for more than a few fellas. You say you are up for it, your name is put down, but you haven't said anything to the trouble and strife. You try and figure out an easy way to break the news, but end up doing it drunk, and all Hell breaks loose. She says you are only going for one thing, and that you don't love her. You say it's such and suchs stag do, and you have to go. She asks who's going, you say a couple of names. She says "I bet thank wanker Brians going" you say yeas, and the game is up. Of course, quite a few of you have a sturdy pair of testicles, so the scenario I have just recorded doesn't apply to all. Which is good, because it would be a bit boring going on my lonesome. 10/10

Intrigue- Everybody loves Amsters. I have been numerous times, more often than I have been to Leeds or York over the last decade, and love the place big time. All tastes are catered for, I know because I have been with the lads, and also gone with a bird. If you can tie a trip to coincide with Koninginnedag, known in English as Queens Day, which is around the 30th of April. A massive street party, they close the centre to all traffic, it rumbles on into the small hours of the next morning. Everybody wears orange, and gets pissed. Crasshzy. 10/10

Verdict-Take the wife by all means, you will have a great time. Particularly if you are partial to a bit of swinging. Otherwise this is lad heaven. A one hour flight, everyone speak Anglais, it's not Bradford, the birds are fit and so on. Some folk complain about the smell, and tourist traps, and that it isn't that seedy, but my suspicion is these are the kind of people who would complain if they won the lottery. If you haven't been before, why not?

43/50 Flying sex toys, with the boys..............BENDER

King of the Bacon Banjos

It has been a while since I updated my quest to find a new bacon butty champion, so here are my findings. First up, the ones to avoid. The shop (Substantial, Thornton Road, Girlington) that replaced the much lamented Frankie B's may be good value, and the full breakfast is a beast even the Eating Machine, aka Bakes, failed to finish, but sadly their Bacon Banjos are a pale shadow compared to their illustrious predecessor. One to avoid at all costs is the one on Haworth Road, next to the Tescos Express. It is not only shite, but the last time I was in there (and it will be my last time) I looked on in amazement as a flu ridden bint sneezed into her hands, and then proceeded to make my butty without washing her hands!! Gross! Another dishonourable mention goes to the Sun Dial on Great Horton Rd. Tasty, but small and overpriced.

Good job then that are plenty of alternatives. Highgate Bakery on Emm Lane is always good for a laugh, as the women who work there take the piss out just about everybody who walks through the door. The food ain't bad either, but a little pricey. Another Highgate worth mentioning is the one on Great Horton Road on the way to Queensbury. Good choice, reasonably priced, and the girl who works behind the counter is fit (but not always there). On Thornton Rd in Thornton itself, is Parkys, which used to have a good looking couple of female servers, who always got your order wrong, but a nice pair goes along way in my book. But that's no longer a problem, as they have both left. Still worth a trip just for the butty though.

So onto my new Champion. It is not only the equal of the Legendary Frankie B's, but surpasses it. It is a little out of the way, but Ellisons Butchers in Cullingworth is the new King of the Banjos. As you would expect from a butchers, the bacon is spot on, and trimmed of fat. The bread is fluffy, and the Brown Sauce tastes like HP, although I did not get visual confirmation. I married my bacon to some mushrooms, which were perfect. Fresh and not greasy in the slightest. All this for the Princely sum of £1.85. Bargain. The only slight downside, as you would expect from somewhere that is chockful of tastiness, is the queue, but it is defiantly worth the wait.

The gauntlet has been thrown down, and the challenge is to usurp this Behemoth of Buttyness from its lofty perch. Arise King Ellison....

Bone Idle

Sorry I haven't posted anything over the last few days, the simple truth is I couldn't be arsed. With City away, and money tight, I decided to cut my losses and stay in this weekend, so this is just a kind of round up.

First up City. Get in. I was saying to Bakes only a couple of weeks ago that we are way over due a cup run of any worth. I know it is early days, but with Orient at home ion the next round, you never know. The only downer was my accumulator. I had City to win, and when Graham Lee smashed in his free kick with only a few minutes left, it looked as though I had sewn up a cheeky £130 win from Ladbrokes. But sadly for me I also had Huddersfield Town, who conceded an equaliser within seconds of City going in front, and then proceeded to lose, the sheep shagging wankers. Oh well. Next up for the Mighty Bantams is second place Wycombe Wanderers away, an extremely tricky game. I would take a draw, but I just have an inkling that we could possibly nick this one, as we always seem to do well against the teams we are supposed to lose too. Of course this means we usually get walloped when we play no hopers doomed for relegation. The week after is Rotherham away, a Yorkshire derby no less, and one I hope to be attending, before we take on the Spirerites at home on the 25th. Apart from the Millers, who were docked a shed load of points, these teams will be our main rivals for a promotion push, so by the end of November we should know which direction we are headed in.

TSV 1860 finally surrendered their seven game unbeaten stretch, losing 1-0 at home no less, to the unheralded Rot-Weiß Oberhausen. I have no idea who the hell they are either. The only concern is that when City seem to do well Der Lowen suck, and vice versa.

Lastly, before I retire once more to the sofa, Bufoonery. Has there been any incidents this weekend? I know Shoutys Satlaire Posse hit the bright lights of Bradford, and I have no doubt Aki and his Wilsden crew were also on the Razz, so I expect to be adding a name or two to the 2009 table.

Me McBooty!!

Curse thar McMercenary to Davey Jones Locker! He did indeed be guessin' correct, that I be weighing McAnchor in thar Windy City of McChicago. That of course be meanin' thar be but one McDobloon fer grabs this week, if any of ye can guess where I be McFillitin' me McFish. I be close to sea, to be McSure. Yet it weren't fer sailing I be visitin'. So can any of ye rusty harpoon holes be figurin'.....

Where beeeeeeee McEurooooooooooo???