Away Days and a Pie

Once again I was forced to remain at home as the lads took off to follow the Mighty Bantams on their seasons Odyssey (the lucky wankers). This time, our intrepid crew voyaged into deepest Shropshire, to watch them take on promotion rivals Shrewsbury Town. Alas, City repeated their poor showing of last week, and lost a second straight game, this time 2-0. Crespo reports we were rubbish, and Helmet piped up with a torrnet of abuse aimed at Big Baz, who of course was responsible for us being garbage. No one else just him. I have no doubt Tony thinks we played like a second division team once again. For future reference, it took just over two hours for them to make it there by car. Crespo rated the ground, which is very new, only opened last year, as Garden Shed, albeit with a window. I think he may have been a little harsh, wait till he claps eyes on the likes of Barnet or Rochdale. anyway, enough of the football. What we all really want to know is "How are the pies?" This week we have a new taster, as Young Jimmy stepped into the breech, sampling a Chicken and Mushroom pie. In days of old, and to this day much missed, it was the connoisseurs pie of choice at Valley Parade. The first time it was removed from the menu, old school leg end Jamon single handedly launched a media campaign, that made front page news in the local T&A newspaper, earned a full page spread in the Daily Star, and was mentioned in dispatches on the Big Breakfast. Even Calendar got in touch, but he was going on holiday the next day, so never got back in touch. This resulted in no less than Geoffry Richmond himself, the owner of the time, making sure our favourite pastry was reinstated. Unfortunately with the demise of Jamon, came the demise of the good old Chicken and Mushroom at Valley Parade. Anyway, I digress, Jimmy reckoned the pie was good, and gave it a high mark of 7/10. Good filling, and an excellent crust. My belly is rumbling at the thought. next away day is Accrington Stanley in two weeks, slap in the middle pie and gravy country. Yet again though, I will be unable to make the journey, as I have booked to take the Elster too Paris on the same weekend. C'est La Vie.

I Know it's Wrong but..

It is that time of year again on Saturdays, Strictly Come Dancing. The Elster loves this guff, and when the theme tune starts up, it is usually my signal to head for the nearest boozer. But with the new fangled hard drive recorder we have, I was caught unawares on Sunday as she played back the previous nights episode. Now I find this garbage as camp as a cravan site full of Graham Nortons, but I was stopped in my tracks by the mega sauciness of the Polish minxfest that is Ola Jordan. I sat transfixed, as her gravity defying bottom clinged tentavily to her skin tight catsuit, and wondered aloud how her dancing partner seemed to stay boner free. If it had been me, I'd have had her eye out! After our lass had cuffed me upside the head, she informed me she almost always wears next too nothing. Until she is voted off, I have found a new favourite show.

Me Booty!!!!

Yarghhh!!! Me Booty be McFound! That dastardly ginger nut, McMercenary be claiming me doubloons, after figurin' rightly I be McMemphis, Tennessee. I reckon thar Be ale in the Streets be too esy a McClue, as he be workin' out it be Beale Street I be referin' too. So this week, thar be but one McDoubloon to be had. I figure it be time to give me some sunshine, as I try to recover from havin' me McBooty purloined, and will sail to somewhere by the sea. I reckon there be plenty of locals to pass me McTime with as I plan me next McForay. So ye plankton breathed noodle heads, can any of ye be McGuessin':

Where be MMMMcEuroooooooo?

Can We Play You Every Week

The so far dismal start to the season by Der Lowen has been given light thus far by one team. MSV Duisberg. After providing the Blue of Munich with their only league win of the season, they were drawn to play again at the Allianz Arena in the DFB Cup, the German equivalent of our very own FA Cup. After 90 minutes of scoreless play it was into extra time, where neither team could break the dead lock. In the penalty shootout, form what I can make out, TSV scored the decisive penalty with a rebound off the Duisberg keeper, although I could be wrong, my German reading skills lie somewhere between atrocious and awful. next up, on Sunday is the world famous FCIngolstadt 04, who hail from somewhere called Ingolstadt, of course, a town of some 117,000 folk somewhere in Bavaria. It is there first season in the Bundesliga, having only been formed in 2004, so they will probably kick our arse's. The draw for the last 16 of the cup is on the 5/10.

Seven Up

Big JohnnyM made his farewell bow down the Wood last night, and we sent him off with a comfortable victory. The cock suckers of the JMF took an early lead, thanks to a couple of early gifts from yours truly, but after we found our rhythm the game was up. The disadvantage was quickly turned on it's head, and in no time we were four goals to the good, and playing the MoFo off the court. How they kept the score respectable was a miracle, as for a good forty minutes we were brilliant. But as is our wont, or mine should I say, that with a six goal lead we lost our way. I had a nightmare in goal, not from letting in soft goals, but by kicking it straight to the opposition on several occasions. Before we knew it, they has whittled our advantage down to a single score. Could this be the greatest comeback upset in the history of the battle between good and gay? Like fuck it would. With arse bandits flowing forward relentlessly, holes were left at the back, and King Crespo fired in four quick goals to extinguish the MoFo threat. Seven up with fourteen to play, it looks dire for the knob jockeys.


Line-ups;

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

EURO E- JohnnyM, Shouty, Mercenary, Euro Bri and Crespo

2008 Season

• JMF wins -15



• Euro Elite - 22



• Draws - 0

Away Days

No reminiscing about past jaunts to stadia this week, instead a look ahead. First up, and sadly one I won't be able to make, the trip to Shrewsbury. It looks like Crespo and Helmet are off to the New Meadow, which will become Gay Meadow again once they arrive, to see the Bantams take on the Shrews. I am unfortunately otherwise engaged, so it will be up to Helmet to give his considered opinions on the quality of pies on offer in Shropshire. Next up though is the shindig down to the Smoke to see City take on the Bees of Brentford on the 13/12. Train tickets are up at the moment, and an off peak return, leaving Bradford Forster Square at 13:01 on Friday the 12/12, with an open off peak return, is £80, travelling on National Express. I have also checked out Virgin, which comes in at the same price. I need to know numbers ASAP, and when I receive the cash will book online. I have found some digs around Kings Cross, they are about £60 for two nights, but most of them are small, so i need to know how many are up for it before I book anywhere. Aki, can you let me know whose up for it out of your posse.

A Birthday Plan

As my 41st birthday approaches, I have been trying to figure out how to celebrate, if that is the right phrase to use when you get to my age. So I have hatched a cunning plan. on the 25/11 the might Bantams play host to Chesterfield at home, an evening kick off. I have begged a day off from the gaffer (not the Elster but my boss at work) the following day, and propose that we rendezvous for a few light refreshments prior to kick off, and then once the game has been played retire to the City Vaults to mull over the Bantams performance with a few sherberts, before taking down the bank at the local Gala casino. So for those who have to work for a living, might I suggest booking the next day, or morning off, and to the steak waving Captains of Industry, such as El Grande Queso, delegating your days loafing to an underling. After the last four night games, you know it makes sense.

Should Have Known Better

How easy could it be? A piss up in brewery? What could possibly go wrong? Having it in Buffoon Central, aka Shipley that's what. Where else would a brewery, who is holding a beer festival, advertised on the Internet and in local papers, during a local festival, get in enough beer to last one night? Know the worst part about it? I wasn't surprised. On Friday the place was drunk dry, as a woefully unprepared brewery was only expecting 400 or 500 visitors over the full weekend, was swamped by that number on the first night alone. And when you figure that up and coming Buffoon rookie Lefty was the organiser in chief, the outcome was, in fact, all to predictable. This didn't stop us having a decent night, but points to Lefty for sure. Speaking about Buffoon points, I have found out that the Right Honourable Shoutster has been stuffing the ballot for the 2008 Maillot Jaune, voting for me on more than one occasion. he even reckons I should be above him, as he hasn't done anything of merit for ages. He points out that apart from the Cologne train incident, there is the shallow swimming pool, speeding ticket and lost bank card stunts I pulled in the US of A. Well my blinking pal shall we look deeper into your performance so far this year? Was it three or four coats/jackets you have lost? Is it three or four park benches/gutters/public toilets you have woken up in/on during this buffoon season? Who was it that had to be rescued from the Prune Park by Crespo, thinking it was midnight, when in fact it was half past eight? And don't get me started on the nose bleeds. And let's not forget how cool you looked trying to chat up that bird with a piece of bog roll stuck your hand. What made it worse was that you noticed it, and started wafting it around in her face laughing, as you tried to remove it, failing badly in the process. Then there was the look of bemusement, as you tried to draw cash out of an ATM, that had its door open, and big sign that read "Out of Order." Or how you continued to persevere even when a friend took pity on you and tried to explain that it had been emptied. How about that train you caught to work in Bradford, wondering how you ended up in Leeds when you got on the wrong train. To cap it all off, as you proudly boasted on Saturday night, how you had been idiot free for a good three months, ten minutes before you lost your wallet in the tram shed. You may well have a point, that I have undersold my own performance this year, but when stood in the shadow of the mountain of idiocy that has been cast in your name, I feel confident that when "Le Maillot Jaune" is presented to this years "Le Grand Buffoon", it shall be your shoulders it adorns.

Bantams 1 Cherries 3

Oh dear. We arrived at Valley Parade sure we were about to witness cherries being popped, but the only thing that was burst was our balloon. We were poor, they were good, all three has beens that were playing for them brought their A-game, and apart from a few brief minutes after we equalised, and at the death, our boys never showed up. Anderton pulled the strings in midfield, and Bradbury and his mate kept Daley quiet, but the man of the match for me was little Sammy Igoe, who always seems t o play well against us. But we did seem to play right into their game plan. Sluggish and unimaginative in the middle of the park, and the talismanic Thorne was way off the pace. Next week we are way to Shrewsbury, a good test of our mettle,as they are considered to be one of our main rivals for promotion, and I can not imagine us playing this poorly again.

Pie/Guest Rating- As I was recovering from Pie Trautamtic Stress Disorder, after being disfigured by a rouge Steak and Kidney, I left this week pie rating to another fella capable of spewing forth molten lava. Paul-cano took the Valley Parade Pie Challenge, and his pastry of choice was the meat and potato flavour. He quite sensibly garnished it with a healthy dollop of chop sauce, and went the Health and Safety route in the manner he ate it, namely with a plastic fork, as to prevent the threat of facial scarring, a move I aim to replicate when I can once more go into the breach in search of pie-fection. Enough of my nonsense, the 'Cano gave it a high rating of 7.5. He swears by 'em, he does! I was hoping to get a second opinion from Bakes, but his hardly touched the sides as he inhaled it. Maybe next time.

Baz Watch-Again he was granted a quarter of an hour by McCall to show his worth, and to be fair he put in what I thought was his best 15 minutes that I have seen this season. The game was all but lost, but he mixed up a bit, pulled off his signature move (plucks the ball out of the air with a ballerinas touch, drops his shoulder and beats two opponents) and didn't fall flat on his back/arse/head once. Bravo Bazza! A healthy 6/10

Normal Service Resumed

Der Lowen sank to yet another defeat last night, going down 1-0 at St Pauli. From the right up on the official website, it sounds like they were woeful during the first half, and not much better the second. Next week sees some welcome respite from the league, as TSV take on MSV Duisburg, the only team they have beaten this season, in the second round of the DFB Cup, at home. Last year they made a brave run to the quarter finals, were they were undone by a Bayern penalty deep into extra time. Back to the league, which has been a huge disappointment this year. Promotion is already looking like a pipe dream, and if Der Lowen keep up this early season form, relegation will be a real worry. For those unfamiliar with the set up of the Bundesliga, there are only two national leagues. If the unthinkable happened, and it has in the not too distant past, TSV would find themselves playing in what amounts to a semi professional regional league. Not good.

On a happier note, I am only an hour away from going to watch the resurgent Bantams take on the Cherries of Bournemouth. After last weeks stellar performance, hopes are high fro a victory to maintain our position at the top of league two, after which a piss up in a brewery beckons. The world seems a fine place today.

No Fluke

After organising a piss up at the Guinness brewery in Dublin, we aim to prove it was no fluke, by repeating the feat this weekend at yet another brewery. This time it is more local, and not the global Goliath that is Guinness. After we watch city pick the Cherries, we are off to the Saltaire Brewery for a beer festival. Lefty reckons there will be beers from the length and breadth of Europe on tap, and although I ain't much of a real ale geezer, you should try most things once, and it is beer after all.

McDouble Double

Yarggghh, ye harpoon hole lovers, I be getting the McBetter of ye yet again. Yer clues were sanctuary, as in church, as in cathedral. The McSecond clue be fit fer woman NOR MAN, as in Norman. Ye only McNorman McCathedral in near these parts be McDurham. So ye will be fishing for a McDouble Double of me doubloons this week. I weighed McAnchor in this place as I hear thar be whisky, and thar be ale in the steets, and wenches in the bars. I tells ye, as a port fer a bender it be fit for a king or queen, and a hooters or two be ready fer wings. So good luck, and can any of ye be figurin';

All to Easy

The Euro Boys took down the JMF last night, the six goal margin of victory flattering the MoFo. They huffed and puffed, and to be fair, never gave up, giving it there best, but there was never any real doubt as to the final victors. Even when the shirt lifters got back to within a solitary goal, we new our better pedigree would prevail. With big JohnnyM giving up his place, they even tried to provoke us into a slanging match, but only ended up arguing with each other. And that's about it. I was fucking brilliant, toying with battered rearguard of the MoFo all night, as did every one on our team. But it was the Right Honourable Shoutster who filled his boots to the max. He got called an "Arsehole" by Jamon, a sure sign he had gotten under the JMF's skin. We rode the Gaylord's Texas Style, and for the first time in their lives, they hated it. Back to a six game cushion, in the race to be 2008 champs.


Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Two Scoops, Dead Eye, Lefty and Funky

EURO E- Clogs, Shouty, Mercenary, Euro Bri and Crspo

2008 Season

• JMF wins -15



• Euro Elite - 21



• Draws - 0

Der Lowen Roar at Last

TSV are finally of the mark, beating MSV Duisberg 2:0 in front of over 18,000 at the Allianz last night. It sees them rocket up the table from last to twelfth. Hopefully the corner has been turned. Bierofka opened the scoring after 29 minutes, and second half substitute Gebhart doubled the lead in the 71st minute. Both Lars and Sven started the game, but were both substituted by the end. It would be nice to think they will be challenging for promotion by the time we get out to see them, hopefully some time in late March. Next up are the pirates of St Pauli on Friday night. This was the match we were really wanting to see this season, but timing and finance has conspired against us. Maybe next year...

F or V?

Well the backward in breds have it. Fadge has trounced Vadge. The poll I ran attracted a massive 25 votes, and Fadge with 16 (64% of the vote) took down Vadge with 7 (28%), with tow people wondering What the Dickens (2%). Combine this with my straw polls of the local unsuspecting public, and I will have to admit that Fadge is indeed the LOCALLY recognised slang term for pussy. Of course those who where asked "Fadge or Vadge" and hailed from outside the West Yorkshire district, to a man said Vadge. But I choose to reside in the fine county of West Yorks, and admit on this one and only occasion to being wrong.

Le Grande Buffoon 2008

It is getting towards that time of year. The nights are drawing in, and with only six weeks left, there has been a burst of fuck wittery in the race to be crowned Le Grande Buffoon 2008. So I have decided to flesh out the current running order, and give a brief outline why that person occupies his position. If I have missed anything out, or have been too harsh on one of the mentioned, please alert me via either the comments section below, or if you see me down the pub;

1. Shouty- A fallow period for the Right Honourable, since his halcyon days around the time of our TSV 1860 trip he has been a paragon of sensibility. But it was a strong showing early on that has kept him ensconced at the summit of stupidity. Trying to get cash out of a broken ATM, Dusseldorf train station, the Sticky toilet paper incident and passing out in a Cologne gutter are the stand out moments from his 2008 campaign
2. Tony Helmet- A close call between second and third, but Helmet knicks it for me due to his remarkable habit of making a helmet of himself on such a regular basis. You Shut Up! in Dublin, the Munich incident at the Malt Shovel and the continual verbal Faux Pas he seems dish up hourly when on the lash. I know it seems harsh, there isn't one huge stand out display of buffoonery from the perennial challenger, but I suspect if anyone is too topple the Shoutster, it will be the Behemoth of Buffoon.
3. The Funhy Messiah- Last years runaway winner set the early pace, and appeared a shoe in to repeat his Maillot Jaune winning performance of the previous twelve months. But since the turn of the year nothing. After crashing Ropeys Xmas party and trying to hump anything with a pulse in the Wilsden district over the Festive period, he has completely disappeared. He may well being casting his brand of Knobheadery in an other district, but as far as I can tell, he has been idiot free for the duration of 2008. He may yet come back into the reckoning, but it looks unlikely he will retain his title.
4. Lefty- A true dark horse, and with this weekends beer festival, and a free pass from his missus could yet storm to the top. His sustained display of Buffoonery during the Otleyfest is probably the finest I have bore witness to in a single night. Spicy Soup and Vodka, twice, followed by a similar mix with an even hotter sauce in the next bar. The subsequent spewing up of milk. Taking us all for the best hot beef sandwich in Yorkshire in a pub. "when did you finish serving food" he enquired. "1986" was the reply. Generally making a nuisance of himself for the rest of the evening. The last time I was out with him he passed the time by kicking fat birds up the arse as they went past him. Strong outside tip.
5. European Bri- I suppose I have to accept that spending so much time with idiots has got to rub off, and this year I have fallen foul to some idiot japes of my own. Falling asleep in a pile of my own puke on a train in the middle of Germany, teaching Helmet the "You Shut Up!!" chant, waking up with a spring roll stuck to my chest, and other misdemeanours all add up, and although I don't believe I will crack the top four, I have to accept my position at the middle of the pack
6. El Grande Queso- Now this was another close one, between sixth and seventh, but he sneaks it for an incident I was lucky to find out about. His main reason for finding himself so high up in the running is the Casino incident. Having racked up a healthy loss, the grande fromage of the Bender Squad decided he still wanted to live it large, so brandishing his battered credit card ordered steak and champagne. Already well pissed, he decided against the use of cutlery to eat his slab of meat, and instead decided use his hands in the manner of an extremely hungry cave man, to dine on his late supper. Loudly. When asked if could keep his voice down, Stevie went into the now infamous "Don't you know who I am!" routine while, wafting a grilled piece of beef at the doorman. He was shepherded to the exit by two bouncer, demanding their names, saying they would never work in this town again , all while waving his half eaten steak at all and sundry. The other reason for him featuring above the chap just below him was modem incident. He couldn't get it to work, and rang up to see why this was. He told the chap on the other end of the phone that it wasn't working and the only light that was on was the standby light. "You see the button on the top of the modem" said the geezer in technical support. "press it, it's the on button." Get in there Queso.
7. The Paulcano- A very recent addition to this years list, only week in fact, as our pocket Etna erupted on our recent visit to Dublin. Suffice to say Paulcano 0 Horse 1. He may be too late to make any in roads this year, but I suspect this is not the last time he will feature on this list. One to keep an eye on in 2009
8. John the Don- Just because he is John the Don.
   

There are a few on the cusp, but none to match the eight that I have chosen. Or is there? Time will be called on the 31/10/08, and I have replaced the Fadge or Vadge poll with one for who should be christened "Le Grande Buffoon 2008", although my verdict will remain final. If you vote now, remember you can change your vote at anytime before the poll closes, just in case someone makes a move after you have voted. May the biggest fool win.

Bantams 4 Grecians 1

Happy Days!! After the second half destruction of Exeter City, we find ourselves perched at the top of League Two. After the first 45 minutes however, this looked an unlikely outcome. City seemed sluggish, and against a team that set out it's stall to defend from the off, it was pretty grim stuff. The passing was wayward, and nobody seemed willing to pick up the pace. After hitting the crossbar when it looked easier to score, Exeter took the lad after a defensive cock up by Clarke. "Thats rubbish!" yelled the Helmet, "You are defending like a League Two team!" It was swiftly pointed out to him, by myself, that we are actually a league two team. The Buffoon. Anyway, Stuart must have put a rocket up 'em at half time, as Clobeck and Daley came out and began to give the Grecian rearguard a roasting down the wings. With their defence finally getting stretched, Thornie and Boulding were finding space, and our leading goal scorer equalised from an Arniston cross. The next twenty minutes or so where probably the finest I've seen down at Valley Parade in the last five seasons. Colbeck was playing as well as I've seen, but Omar was without a doubt the star turn. Boulding put us in front, and then Thorne scuffed in a third, but the best goal was the last. A blistering run by Omar down the flank, and great pass to Boulding, who picked his spot from the edge of the box. Job done. Brilliant. Can't wait for the Bournemouth game next week.

Pie/Guest Rating- This week, because we are at home, and I have tried everything pastry encrusted, I thought I'd get Tony Helmet to give his verdict on the Steak and Kidney pie that was reviewed last week. He reckoned it was on a par with the offering at Macclesfield, and commented on how good the pastry was, and was well impressed with the gravy and meat filling. He gave it a whopping 8/10. I , on the other hand, was assaulted by mine, being left with a blistered lip, due to the atomic temperature it was served at. I do concur with the Tony H that this is by far the best option at City's ground, but have marked it down for disfiguring my beautiful lush lips. 7/10. By the way, does anyone know where you can buy Hammonds Chop sauce? It's Chop-tastic!

Baz Watch- You have to feel for our testosterone fuelled legend. With the front two playing this well, his keister is going to be doing plenty of splinter gathering. I've even had to relegate "Baz Watch" to second billing behind "Pie Rating" as the savouries are seeing more action. With the game won, he was given a fifteen minute or so run out, and you can see he is desperate impress. Probably a little to desperate. An example would be his salmon like leap for cross. He jumped far to early, and when he realised, fouled himself in mid-air to land in a heap on the deck. It was not an edifying spectacle. Calm it down Baz, use the force... 5/10.

McJackpot McQuadrupled.

Yyyarrrgghhhh, ye scallop jockeys. once again I be to McClever for ye. I be figurin' the big sign of route 53 Ohio may have indeed been the easiest McClue yet, but I be also given ye a port fit fer a president, as in McPort Clinton, Ohio, on the shores of the McMighty Lake Erie. So ye blind bilge rats, this can be only meanin' one McThing. This week thar be four McDoubloons fer ye to be strivin' for. I be slurpin a McShake in a learned place, that was travelled to quicker. I McStumbled upon this gem as I be praying for wind. I was drawn to it's chief site, a building fer women, nor man, to seek sanctuary. So to fill yer purse, or even ye pockets, can any of ye be guessin';

"Where be McEurooooooo??"

JMF Win Streak Halted

Two much changed sides met down the Wood last night, as a curtailed game ended with a comfortable four goal win for the Righteous. Things didn't kick off till late, as a false fire alarm meant things didn't get under way till 8:15. A member of the public pressed the alarm when he saw a bunch of flamers head into the sports centre. i explained that it was only the JMF, and the fire brigade were informed that it was a false alarm. The game itself was nip and tuck early on. The brilliance of the Euro boys was only offset by the spawniest of goals by our flaming foes. the game turned irrevocably in our favour when King Dave pulled up with a back injury, and was forced to play out the rest of the game in goals, not his strongest position. a quick five goal burst, with the mercenary to the fore, saw off the MoFo, who to be fair tried their damnedest to make a game of it, although Jamons pitiful plea that it shouldn't count has gone unheeded. next week sees two different line ups lock horns, as we enter the business end of the 2008 campaign to be crowned champions.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Two Scoops, Dead Eye, King Dave and Funky

EURO E- Clogs, Lefty, Mercenary, Euro Bri and Crspo

2008 Season

• JMF wins -15



• Euro Elite - 20



• Draws - 0

Drink! Girls! Feck!

Be gosh, and indeed be gorrah, I am freshly returned from the MoleCats freedom shindig in the capital of the emerald isle Dublin. It was most ably organized by the Paulcano, and was a raucous affair to be sure. We flew out Saturday afternoon, from LBA, after a two and a bit hour delay, so we were all pretty fresh before we arrived. But let us skip to the chase. Was there any buffoonery worthy of "Le Maillott Jaune?" What do you think? One of Toms work buddies, christened Ravanelli because he had white hair, nearly came through unscathed, but whilst trying to force out one last Guinness fart on arrival back in Blighty, only succeeded in drawing mud, yet another "Munich" incident. Bakes threw a wobbler down Temple Bar, and threatened to send most off his travelling companions home in a body bag. There was Matt and his ambulance, which took pity on him as wandered the streets of Dublin non to the wise as where our digs were located. And of course the Helmet was on tour, and didn't disappoint. My good self, Palmer, Molecat, Busted, Lobon, Crespo, Carl (we were too drunk to think up a suitable nickname) , Helmet and Ravanelli took off to the Guinness storeroom for the tour. Of course we got a bit lairy, and began the "You Shut Up!" chant at each other. After several hours on the Razz we decided to meet up with the rest, who of course were in a different bar, and stone cold sober. Helmet burst through the door at the precise moment time stood still. Watches stopped, the song on the jukebox finished and a deathly hush fell over the Bleeding Horse pub. "Oooooooooooooooooooooooo Yyyyyyyyyyyou shutttttt Uuuuuppppp!!!!!!!!" bellowed the Helmet, who is one of the loudest MoFo's you could wish to meet. Everybody in the bar looked at him, as tumbleweed blew through the bar, and in the distance a church bell tolled. Not a smirk or chortle, just an embarrassing silence only broke when the bar tender called out "Next!" The proverbial coat was got and taxi called. But all were to usurped by Wilsdens answer to Krakatoa, the Paulcano. For reasons only known to himself, on the first night in Dublin, down Temple Bar, he spied a horse whilst waiting to get into a night club, and took offense to our four legged friend. Deciding that only course of action was to head butt our equine friend, he put his arms to his side, bowed his napper, and set off as fast as his little legs would carry him towards the the horse. Just as he was propelling himself towards top speed, the horse looked up, and engaged it's superior intelligence, side stepping the now flat out 'cano, who flew head first down the cobbled streets, ending up in a broken and bruised pile, to earn the honours for buffoon moment of the trip. Most folk collect beermats or pins on their trips abroad, but the 'cano loves to pick up scabs and scars instead.

What of Dublin itself? I never made it down to Temple Bar, the frist night because I had a bad experience on my last visit eight year ago, and on the second night because I made the fatal error of deciding to have ten minutes after an afternoon bender, and woke up three hours later with everybody gone, a fate that also befell the Helmet. "Old twats" I hear you say, but brother Lobon, the oldest geezer on tour made it all the way through. I highly recommend the Guinness tour, you pay a fifteen euro entrance, which gets you a free pint in the impressive Gravity bar, but on the sixth floor there is another bar that sold the cheapest Guinness I found all weekend, coming in at just over four euros. Of course the taxi driver on our way home told us a secret way to get pissed cheap. In the gravity bar they only serve complimentary pints, and most people who do the tour only have a couple of sips and leave it, which means for those of you with shallow pockets can hoover up all the leftover beers, getting arsed for free. I shall bear this in mind if I visit again, as with the exchange rate being what it is, it was working out about £4.50 a pint, nearer five quid down Temple Bar. Another thing to watch out for is the night clubs in Temple bar, which start sticking an extra euro on all drinks, every hour after midnight. Lobon got stung just shy of ten euros for a vodka and coke in Fitzsimmons. Well , in a nutshell, that's about it. I am sure I have forgotten to recall may things, I was pretty drunk most of the time, and if any one wants to comment on anything I have missed out, please feel free. If there is enough that I've missed out on, I will do a follow up posting on our jolly shindig. I have uploaded my photo's, which mainly consist of our Guinness odyssey, you can view by clicking here. Anybody else who has any photos, get them to me and I will add to the gallery, as I have none of Molecat in his frock. So what next? In a fortnight there is Leftys beer festival, and in December we are heading down to the Smoke to see the Bantams play the Bees. I will do a full rundown on Le Grande Buffoon later in the week, as there has been some definite movement in the top five.

Three Reasons why Old Men Shouldn't Dance

Curse this digital age. You get dragged off to a party for one of your trouble and strifes friends husbands. Because it's your wife, and you never pay any attention to owt she has to say, or who she socialises with, you arrive at said shindig not having a scooby doo who anybody is, but everybody else knows everybody else. Solution? Copious amounts of Guiness. Of course after sticking to this plan for three hours ones inhibitions become some what loosened. Because it's a fortieth, the DJ starts to play old records from your youth. Your feet start tapping, and you even begin to sing along. All of a sudden Golden Rule #16 "Do not dance once passing the age of 35" is forgotten. Another two pints of the black stuff are seen off and before you know it you are in the middle of the dance floor surrounded wide eyed youngsters with their chins on the floor, peering out from behind fingers, as "Prince Charming" by Adam and the Ants blares out;


The look of sheer concentration on the last one is quite frightening..

McTriple McRollover

Yarggghhh, ye squnky squid stains, it be three doubloons now up for offer, as none of ye guessed where I be McChomping me cheeseburgers. Ye clue was where the toielts smell nice, as in toilet water, or eau de cologne, as in McCologne in McGermany. This week I be McTravelling on a great body of water, I be laying me McAnchor in a port fit for a McPresident. Hopefully I be McConquering me growling guts with a Mcburger or three, and before I be heading offf to McPastures new a McShake or two to wash me away. There be a clue or McTwo, but is there any way fer ye to be knowin';

Where bbbbbbbbbeeeee MCEuro??

JMF Prevail after Johnny Wobbler

One of the Righteous broke a golden rule last night, and gave up. It probably didn't cost us the game, as much as it pains me to say it the MoFo were the better team and deserved to win, but to let in several goals without trying to stop them is pitiful. The result? an eight goal thrashing. The MoFo got off to an absolute flyer, 5-1 up at the first keeper change, as the returning Dead Eye rode his luck slamming in a few fortuitous rebounds. Shouty remarkably kept a clean sheet, but we could only muster one goal, and the die was cast. I let in an absolute howler, and King Dave scored probably the flukiest goal I have ever seen. He somehow managed to tackle himself, kick the ball off the wall, lose his bearings and as he twisted and turned trying to find out where the ball had gone, it clipped him on the heel as he faced the other way, and flew into the back of the net. It was one of those evenings for us, Shouty watched one of Jamons toe poke Exocet's fly past him after the MoFo captain let loose from inside his own half. To top it off King Dave even managed a couple of saves. So the queer boys have won two on the bounce, and what looked to be a Euro procession towards the 2008 title, has indeed been momentarily halted. There are a few changes next week, as the idiot seamen lovers try to whittle the Righteous lead down to three.

Line-ups;

JMF- Jamon, Luklear, Dead Eye, King dave and Funky

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

2008 Season

• JMF wins -15



• Euro Elite - 19



• Draws - 0

Le Grande Buffoon 2008

It is nearly that time of year, and with only a month to stake a claim, it is pretty much nip and tuck and the top. The Funky Messiah, who looked a lock to be the first back to back winner, has, rather disappointingly, seemed to have grown up, and apart from the Xmas episode at Ropeys, has been nowhere to be seen. Still it was an epic display of stupidity, and keeps him well within the running. In the same group pushing for the hallowed jersey is Shouty, and myself. Shouty's lost weekend of sticky toilet paper and being refused service in the Prune Park rivals Funkys festive frolics as a one off piece of idiocy. Combine this with his toilet capers in Dusseldorf, and I reckon we have front runner. In the bronze medal place I would have to place new comer Lefty, his hot sauce drinking stunt in Otley was priceless, and to be honest might even be worthy a winning on it's own. It will be interesting to see if he can sustain his rookie attempt at the Shipley beer festival two weeks hence. A true loose cannon in the finest tradition. And me? Well I don't think I have a one off to rival my fellow Squad members, but a series of numb ones. Getting caught doing ninety in a fifty five mile an hour zone, the diving head first on to the bottom of a swimming pool and clearing a train compartment outside Leverkusen, all add up, but lack that knockout blow, so I figure to be running fourth at time of press. Who else deserves a mention? El Grande Queso and his non working modem. When he rang up to see why it wasn't working, it turned out he hadn't switched on from standby. Doh! The Boy Dazzlers disappearing act. An expensive one at that. Helmet is a long shot at the moment, but now he no longer has to work Saturdays, is a dark horse, and with the pooping his pants incident at the Dons birthday do, and his two mouthfuls and gipping effort only the other week, could yet see him usurp the rest. And he has a weekend in Dublin to navigate as well. With the Ireland excursion, the Saltaire Brewing festival and the Boy Dazzlers birthday, all before the end of the month, the season has hit what Sir Alex Ferguson likes to call "Squeaky Bum time" and this year, there is all to buffoon for.

Thre More Days to be Sure

The countdown is well under way to Molecat Tom's stag bender round the fair city of Dublin. To my reckoning this is the first foriegn bender since myself and the Shoutster visited Germany, and only the second of the year. I know there have been other benders abroad this year, myself in Chicago and Shouty in Basel, by these were lone missions, and you can't beat having a few compadres to share ion the experience. It is also the first trip for a while for brother Lobon, his first in fact since the Right Honourables stag night in Amsterdam. I will be taking a camera, and hopefully there will be a late surge for buffoon points, as it is pretty tight to see who will succeed the Funkmeister to claim the Maillot Jaune for 2008.

Lions Continue to Whimper

What is up with der Lowen? Three games, three loses, and firmly rooted to the bottom of the second division of the Bundesliga. This weeks tormentors were Rot Weiss Ahlen (?), a team I have never heard of till now. From what I can make out on the official website, TSV dominated early on, but found themselves a goal down on 56 minutes. This was compounded in the 69th minute when defender Beda was shown a red card for what in my piss poor German appears to be for waving a red map in an emergency. And rightly so. But against a numerically superior team, they manged to equalise with just five minutes left, only to give up a last minute goal, to go down by two goals to one. So still pointless after three games, and the next match in two weeks against against fifth place Duisberg. "We must now necessarily the home game against Duisburg, no matter how. Even if we play shit - there are at the end only three points." Is the rough translation from TSV defender Torben Hoffmann, and I would have to agree, since last years winter break the lions have been woeful.

Stop the Nonsense

I have not posted much on the STN (Stop the Nonsense) thread much lately, as I have been kind of mellowed out by the summer, even if it was a piss poor rainy affair. The amount of nonsense spouted by the supposed great and good has not abated, in fact his has probably intensified as the labour government continue to implode, but during the light nights , and with the kids off school it seemed a waste of time to try and keep up. Particular moments of jaw dropping stupidity include these priceless gems;

• The German government is pushing to outlaw the small plastic toys found in Kinder Surprise eggs, and boxes of cereals. This is for the safety, of course, of the poor little kiddies, who might swallow them. Have they never seen the plastic egg the toy comes in Kinder eggs? I have seen smaller vibrating love eggs. Then there is the interesting statistic of not one single bambino ever actually swallowing said toy. Ha ha, I hear you laugh, it iz ze silly Krauts, not us, but with us being in the EU it can surely only be a matter of time but this ludicrous piece of legislation becomes a law throughout Europe.
• Those annoying fucking adverts, telling us that kids copy all their parents bad habits. You must have seen them? The one with the adults having a crafty fag, and at the end little Johnny picks up a crayon and pretend to have puff on it? Or the radio ad, that makes out when we cross the road using our mobiles, that little Janey will do the same and get knocked over? What complete and utter bolloxs! I love broccoli, and make a point of eating it all up, with relish, at the dinner table. Do my kids follow suit? Hell no! They would rather munch on a fried dog turd than eat this healthy vegetable. Brushing teeth, not peeing on the toilet seat, tidying up after myself and wearing fresh underpants every day are just some of the many examples I try to set that my little ragamuffins pay no heed to, yet according to this government propaganda, it should be second nature to them by now. Utter tosh.
• The dick head Tory MP, who reckons teenage pregnancy is down to publications such as Heat and Nuts, filling their pages with semi-naked women, that make our spotty little Lotharios think of the opposite sex as little more than sexual playthings. Number one, the little tarts could always try going on the pill, or, heaven forbid, say no. Number two, how many of the underage/late teenage mothers do you see pushing prams around your way, resemble in any shape or form, the seriously hot chicks depicted in the publications mentioned above? None, that's how many. The miracle for me, is the fact that anybody could sustain an erection long enough to impregnate these apprentice heifers.
• I actually thought one of them was going to speak some sense the other day. He said fat folk should start to shoulder some of the responsibility for, to put it bluntly, being porkers. Hear, hear said I, thinking finally, some semblance of sense was to be spoken by a politician. But then he began to drone on about how policies needed to be put into place, and folk needed educating, blah, blah, blah. The point is not people being fat, as far as I am concerned it is their God given right to eat themselves into an early grave, so what. As for education, who doesn't know that a super size MaccyD meal every meal time is bad for you? That guzzling litre after litre of fizzy pop is going to turn your arse to lard? Nobody, thats who. And the argument that it costs the economy several billions of pounds doesn't was either. According to the busybody do gooders traffic costs billions, as does smoking, beer, lead swingers, train delays, gambling, over filling bins and on and on. The question is, Does the economy actually make any money then? Not according to these people. Oh, and by the way, did you notice the only vice they skirt around? The one that is with a doubt the least healthiest, and cost no doubt billions as well? Still not got it? It's the only one that's illegal. That's right drugs. Heroin, Crack, Coke, and the rest. No we can't point out that these knob heads are in anyway to blame for the predicament they find themselves in. It's disease you know.

These are just a few of the nonsensical shenanigans that have come to my attention over the last few months, and there are many more that I can't readily call to mind as well. My and G-Spot are going to get together in the next month or so, but in the meantime, why don't you give the forum that has been set up by clicking here. To keep you entertained over the coming months will be the case of the most senior Asian police officer in the country, accusing the most PC of PC's Sir Ian Blair of racial discrimination. It will no doubt cost squillions of pounds to the economy, but will prove ample evidence that the country is in fact being run by a cartload of lobotomised chimpanzees.