Last Word

All right, this is the last post concerning our recent jaunt to the Father Land. I should have put this link on a different post, but I didn't. It is a photo gallery on the Bender Squad picture site. Click here to view.

Quick to Take

Not so quick to pay back! Jet2 are starting too test my legendary patience. When you book a flight, the money is taken straight off the bat. When a volcano erupts, and flight is cancelled, you have to call a premium rate number, at 50p a minute, too be told it can take between 10-15 working days before your refund arrives. If the flight is cancelled, surely there is some kind of mechanism that would automatically reimburse all passengers due to fly? For a start it's an Internet company, so all payments are made by card. A tenner says there is a big ass button on a machine some where that says "Refund" that just needs pressing. My first action was to e-mail them, figuring it would save the phone call, and some button monkey in Delhi would receive and process. Yes, I appreciate there is a lot of flights to wade through, but two weeks! In fact it's more, because weekends don't count. When I rang up, the nice lady at the other end even said she could see it was being processed. So why couldn't she press the button? To say all this new fangled technology is supposed too have improved our lives, is a statement that is beginning to ring hollow in my book.

PRESS THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!!!

Away Days...Fortuna 2 Lowen 0

It's a bit late, but I nearly forgot to post the game report, and Away Day thread from our recent sojourn to Dusseldorf.

First up the match. As you would expect from a team comfortably resigned to mid table mediocrity, 1860's performance had a touch of lethargy about it, as they dreamt of sunny beaches. Fortuna, on the other hand, still had a decent shout at finishing in the play off spot, and played like it. from the off the lads in blue in and white were under the cosh, and the surprise was they were only a goal up at half time. The second half was closer, TSV even had a good chance, wasted, but there was only ever one team in it, and the injury time penalty scored by Fortuna, was fair enough. In fact if they had won by four or five, it would not have been an unfair reflection.

Wurst rating- Two choices of sausage, I plumped for the Bratwurst, served with a lovely ice cold Kolsch. Which you could sit and drink in your seat. Hell they even had a guy walking through the crowd with a keg on his back. How could you not score it a perfect 10/10?

Statistics

• Capacity- 51,500
  
• Concessions- Two kinds of beer (Alt and Kolsch) served cold, for £3. Sausage by the yard, and a team of servers, who get you served in double quick time. English football clubs should be made to go to Germany to see how it's done.
  
• Built-2004
  
• Did You Know?- It has a retractable roof, which means it can also host a variety of different events, such as Phil Collins concerts. The naming rights are currently held by fashion group Esprit, of whose underpants Crespo once paid €50 for a pair.
  
• Visited By- Euro Bri, Dr Shotgun, Major, Shouty, Crespo, Sprocket and Dessi
  
• Rating- Coliseum. About a fifteen minute train ride out of town. The place has like a huge fabricated wall surrounding all four sides, giving it an appearance of a big warehouse, if truth be told. Inside, however, is different kettle of fish, and it doesn't have a bad seat in the house. The crowd, at about 30,000-ish, made a good row, and if Fortuna make it to the Bundesliga, I reckon it will be a great place to watch a game of football. The taxi ride back in too town along the river was pretty cool as well.

Righteous Blow Chance

Boy that was a hard one to swallow. Two up, with about five minutes to go, and it seemed our losing streak was about to end. But then came the seemingly weekly implosion, and we snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. It all started well, Clogs thrashed a long shot straight into the back of newly purchased goals. Bradford Council had finally got around to replacing the ones held together by gaffer tape, bu my reckoning the last ones had been in use since 1996. This roused the cock munchers, and in double quick time, we were two in the hole, and all over the place. Still the storm was weathered, and we pulled level. For the next half hour the game was nip and tuck, but finally we made our move and looked to have the game sewn up. Even Big Phil, not renowned for his reflexes, pulled out a Gordon banks effort. One minute he was upright, the next sprawled horizontally across the goal, finger tips steering the ball around the post. But then came the second worst tackle of the past few seasons, as the usually mild mannered Mercenary sent Luklear flying. It weren't pretty, but then again it wasn't a penalty, which of course the despicable ass bandits tried to claim. This raised their shackles, and for the next few minutes things got a bit ugly. Once tempers had cooled, some poor finishing, as usual, left the door open for a gay comeback, and of course that's what happened. Crespo had a golden opportunity to equalise at the death. He was free, with bags of time and space, right on the penalty spot, with only well known keeping clown Jamon to beat, but he smashed the ball straight at him, consigniong us to our fourth loss on the bounce. Worrying times indeed.

JMF- Dead Eye, Young Gaz, Funky, Luklear War and Jamon

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Big Phil, The Mecenary and Crespo

2010 Season

JMF wins - 10


Euro Elite - 6


Draws - 0

Shouty the Kid

After declaring himself "Drinking Champion of Europe" brother Shouty is already having his credentials called into question. Just like Billy the Kid, legendary gun slinger of the Wild West, pretenders to his crown are already lining up, believing that if they can fell our bespectacled beer machine, they will be able to bathe in the glory of his demise. The first inclination I got that others had designs on his title, was the night after his Killepptsch antics, when a tipsy Queso rang our lass up to declare him self the new King, when the Right Honourable passed out in his cab on the way back to the hotel. But in the cold light of day, Stevie recalled the exploits of the previous night, and realised to truly lay claim to the belt, he would have to undertake an equally irresponsible drinking feat, and his roar subsided to a whisper. But news travels fast in the digital age, and back in the wilds of Wilsden, a sleeping giant has awoken. He may well be the wrong side of 45 now, but the legendary booze machine Sprout, is less than impressed, and has declared himself a contender. A well known bar jockey, who back in the day laid waste to men twice his size, has the reputation, but does he still possess the will? All I know, is that the next time Shouty darkens the door of the Villager, he better have his A game.

But I reckon this only the tip of the iceberg, there are many more who will wish to tame the Shoutster, and although he says not, I reckon the next time Helmet encounters him, he won't be able to resist. And these are just the guys I know. Brother Shouty has decided to talk the talk, and there will be plenty aiming to make him walk the walk. I predict a boozy summer......

Buffoon 2010: Update

Only a small adjustment, but it does give me time too tidy up the league table, of which I made a bit of an arse of last time. I went out for a few beers with Crespo over the weekend, and there is a two point addition to his total, after he confessed to suffering a "Munich Incident" in Dusseldorf. He tried to keep it quiet, but after getting a few ales down him the truth came out. The table below now looks thus:

Updated Buffoon Standings

1. Trigger 50 points
2. El Grande Queso 14 points
3. Euro Bri 13 points
   
4. Crespo 13 points
5. Child Catcher 11 points
   
6. Gareeeeeee 4 points
7. Sprocket 3 points
8. Dr Shotgun 3 points
   
9. Mikey D 3 Points
10. John the Don 3 points
11. Shouty 3 points
12. Dessi 2 points
    
13. San 1 Point
14. Major 1 point

As you can see, it has made minimal impact on the tables, but they could prove crucial come October. Still, brother Trigger will take a lot of catching...

Le Grand Buffoon 2010

There is nothing like a foreign jaunt to stimulate the Buffoon of the year standings, and our trip to Dusseldorf was no different. I am going to break the scoring down by member, with their points total. Forgive me for being vague on a couple of exploits, but you will get the gist of what went on.

Trigger
Many thought Helmets on man mission in Edinburgh would take some beating, but Trigger beats it all ends up. First up, the Pikey incident, which was uncovered on the trip down. I cannot elaborate too much on this, but it involved a deal to good to be true, and was deemed by the panel to be worth 10 points. Then we have the piss tip. As travellers around Germany are aware, quite a few establishments have a toilet attendant, whom you usually give a 20 to 50 cent tip for keeping the bog clean. Trigger decided to go all flash on us, and tipped this particular cleaner €20, or £18 for a piss. Luckily Queso was at hand to get it back, but still worth at least 5 points. Then there is the hotel incident, which was agreed weighed in with a whopping 25 points. As you would imagine, on his reappearance come Sunday, he was ever so slightly sheepish, at steered clear of stupidity for the remainder of the trip. Total-40 points

Euro Bri
I may as well get my own idiocy over and done with. My main score was for doing a Mexican wave just as a bartender walked past with a drinks laden tray, I cannot really argue with the three points bestowed on me. I also scored another for texting Sprocket, telling him to get out of bed, even though he was next too me in a pub. Texted the wrong guy, 1 point. I am not sure why I was awarded the other two I was informed of, but considering the state I got into on a couple of occasions, I am more than happy to let them stand. Total-5 points

Sprocket
His purple ear, earned after a grappling session with dessi (see below) was worthy of a score, and his vinegar shot also racks up a point. Apart from that I am struggling to think of much. Oh yeah, I remember his rose trick now. Defiantly worth another score. Total-3points

Dessi
A first timer, and the fact is he wasn't even supposed to be out with us, but proved to be a worthy addition. Scores like Sprocket, for wrestling like school kids, and also, infamously, did the dreaded starfish shot. Can't really let him off with out a score. My feeling is, now that he knows us, and will be more at ease, that he could score well on our next sojourn. Total-2 points

Dr Shotgun
Without the inestimable Doctor, we would probably still be stranded somewhere in North West Germany, his level head twice retrieving seemingly lost causes. But he still was not immune from moments slackness. My personal favourite was when he asked if 1860 Munich were at home, even though we were in Dusseldorf, on our way to the stadium. He couldn't quite grasp the Koln was Cologne theory either. He did score a third pint, but for what I can't quite remember. Total-3 points

Crespo
A sensible-ish weekend from our lanky legend. Going back to a house party, and having a shit, only to find there was but a piece of bog roll is about the only incident that springs readily too mind. I am sure there is at least another, so if anybody can remember it, please let me know. Total- 1 point

King of the Pixies
Sandro took some time to shake off the first nights shenanigans, and then was felled by a Shouty induced headache. He did turn it around, but I would be hard pressed to think of him scoring a point. Maybe it was all those pork sarnies kept him on the straight and narrow. Total-Nul points

Shouty
He was starting to accrue a fair haul. There was the numerous condiment shots he created and supped. The Scotsman he pissed off. The Sprocket incident, which he just wouldn't let lie. It revolved around a joke he made about his trouble and strife, for which KC apologised, only for Shouty to bring it up, again, five minutes later. The dollop of ketchuped, dispensed on his head, as he lay sparked out on a table. But these were all wiped from the slate as part of the deal to get him to undertake the exploit reported below. That of course means he can only be scored for the stunt he pulled when he got home. He turned up for work, even though he had booked it off. An unbelievable solitary score. Total- 1 point

John the Don
He didn't actually go, but I have no doubt he did something stupid, some where. Total- 1 point

El Grande Queso
A good haul from the Queso. First up, the Shouty shooter of mustard he swigged. He claimed to pulled a sleight of hand, but as the video below shows, whatever he knocked back was definitely containing a selection of condiments (even though he may have spit it back into his beer, it went in his gob). Two points for trying to dodge one. Another couple for ringing the Elster, at 8 o'clock in the morning, to tell her she was a good egg, and announce himself as drinking champion of Europe. It's just as well our lass is used to stupid phone calls in the small hours. He scored another for some misdemeanour that has slipped my mind. Total- 5 points



Updated Buffoon Standings

1. Trigger 50 points
2. Child Catcher 11 points
   
3. El Grande Queso 14 points
4. Euro Bri 13 points
   
5. Crespo 11 points
6. El Grande Queso 9 points
   
7. Euro Bri 8 points
   
8. Gareeeeeee 4 points
9. Sprocket 3 points
10. Dr Shotgun 3 points
    
11. Mikey D 3 Points
12. John the Don 3 points
13. Shouty 3 points
14. Dessi 2 points
    
15. San 1 Point
16. Major 1 point
    

Irresponsible? Yes. Funny? Most Definatly

Thanks to brother Sprocket for posting this video, capturing Shouty at his best (or worst, depending on gender.) The lad had been on an epic 25 hour binge, only briefly snatching a power nap here and there, and was clattered when he undertook this feat. Only moments before, he had downed four Jagermeisters, and it gave me and Sprocket the idea of goading him into trying to a yard of Killepitshs on his own. It was without a doubt one of the more irresponsible things we have down, but you gotta admit it was impressive.

Kids, DO NOT, try this at home......

Double Down

Sorry about forgetting to report on last weeks match down the Wood, which the Gaylord JMF just about held onto, but I got lumbered trying to figure out ways to get across to Germany, thanks to that pesky Volcano. The fact that two of the Righteous made the mad dash to Dusseldorf, played more than small part in our destruction down the Wood last night. Sadly me and the Shoutsater are no longer in our twenties, and weekends deprivations took their toll. Badly. And if that wasn't bad enough, Two Scoops pulled up injured almost straight away, depriving Clogs and the Mercenary of three players. Of course, as you would expect from a bunch of arse bandits, there was no mercy. It was a whooping , in every sense of the word, although some of the gloating did seem a tad crass, considering our predicament. Anyway, there is a long way to go, and a three game advantage is nothing to be panicked about. Yet.

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

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Shouty, The Mecenary and Two Scoops

2010 Season

JMF wins - 9


Euro Elite - 6


Draws - 0

Ein episches Abenteuer

An epic adventure indeed. It took more than an erupting volcano to prevent our mission from occurring, and a contingency plan was formed. Sprocket, by some strange coincidence, was already stranded in Dusseldorf, and two of our party were stuck in work, so it was seven of us who boarded a VW transporter in Clayton, and headed off on a 557 mile trek to Dusseldorf. The trip down was pretty incident free, Sandro's mood swings from complete depression, to unbelievable optimism, kept every one's spirits up, until we found out that Queso's supposed European satnav, wasn't. Luckily I had printed off our route from Google maps, which did the job, but as we neared our destination, it became complicated. Once again, we had a lucky break, as I finally figured out how too use the GPS maps on my dog and bone. We arrived, checked in, met Sprocket and his mate, and took off around the Aldstadt, drinking loads of Alt and Killepitsch, of which I never heard of, but you can follow this link to learn more. After loads of both of these drinks, apart from the good Dr Shotgun (thankfully as it transpired) we KC took us too a place that did the best pork sarnies in the world. Sandro was so impressed he ate two, and even contemplated a third (he said he didn't want to seem greedy) In fact over our three day stay, he consumed a grand total of nine, and grew a curly tail. The other highlight of the evening was Shouty laying claim to drinking champion of Europe, after he destroyed a Germ,an chap foolish enough to cross swords with him. But things were about to take change for the worse, and one member was too find himself burdened with a whooping 25 Buffoon points ( this doesn't include the ten he got on the journey for telling us about his pikey trick) I am not allowed to fully relay the full ins and out's of what occurred. All I can say is that involved a wet bed, police and us looking for new accommodation the next morning. Shotguns dislike of both Alt and Killepitsch came in handy, as he was the only one capable of blowing clear, and being able to drive.


So the next day commenced with us in search of a new home, and it was not long before the first buffoon points were earned. We decided to try our luck in Cologne, and headed off in the direction of the Autobahn. The problem was that the good Doctor couldn't quite manage to get his head around the fact that in German, Cologne is in fact "Köln" After driving around aimlessly, I took an executive decision, and we headed back to Dusseldorf. The main reason was that the major was on his way, 1860 were playing there on Sunday, and Sprocket and Dessi had managed to avoid detection at our previous hotel. We would have spent the whole weekend shuttling back and forth, so as we crossed the Rhine back into town, I spotted a Holiday Inn, and we booked ourselves a trio of rooms. So after a small siesta, we were off again. Shotgun stayed in the hotel, enjoying the hospitality of some political party, if memory serves Die Liberlans, and Shouty roused me to go and meet up with Sandro and Queso. First though, I threw up most of the previous nights excesses, and tried to rouse Crespo who was having none of it. Then it was off to meet up at the Red Lounge in Carlsplatz. It was here we found Steve and San enjoying a few Kolschs in tranquil surroundings, which were soon destroyed by decibel charged Shouty, which gave San a headache. We also scored Dessi and Sprcokets first points of the trip, after their beer mat fight descended into a wrestling match, which lead too KC sporting a big fat purple ear.

The rest of the afternoon, and early evening was to be dominated by the Shoutster. We went to an Irish bar to watch the Manchester derby, hooking up with KC and Dessi, plus a freshly arrived Major. Th game was pretty poor, so the Right Honourable decided to start doing shots of vinegar. Then shots of vinegar with Ketchup. The Major, Sprocket and even El Grande Queso took part in knocking back his bevy of concotions. But with out a doubt the worst was his "starfish" It was a bit of lager, with vinegar, two types of mustard, a pinch of salt, pepper and lime, with a dollop of HP sauce. It looked like a turd floating in piss, and even Shouty looked at doubtfully. But not Dessi, who polished it off in one go. At this point Crespo made a PA, just as a confused Queso decided he best take a time out. I found him wandering around aimlessly, and pointed him towards a taxi rank. I my self decided a walk along the river back to our base would be good for the head, although it took me a while, as I got proper lost. After a power snooze, and a shower, I regrouped with Shotgun and Crespo, and went off in search of Shouty.


And he was in fine form when we found him. He had fallen out with Sprocket, and kept making up with him, before falling out with him again. I have video evidence of the state he was in, but he has asked I not post it. Finally he snapped out of it, and started lecturing Shotgun on how brilliant English culture was, and how shit Italian culture was. He even accused Crespo of being to stupid to invent the wheel. Major was ready to watch his beloved Spurs, so once again it was back to O'Reillys. Once inside, Shouty set about a group of Scots at the bar, telling them they were small folk, from a small country, and then telling a bunch of Londoners, that all they did was "Give it all that" and couldn't drink like a northerner, particularly the drinking champion of Europe, before going outside and passing out. It was on e of these two groups that we suspect of committing the Ketchup incident. The game finished, and we decided to get some grub, and hook up with San and Steve at, you guessed it, the world famous pork sandwich shop. Me and Shotgun were first to finish, so went collect Shouty, who was just beginning to come around. It was then that we noticed he was covered in Tomato Sauce, a big dollop was on his head, and he had gotten it all over his hands and arms. We cleaned him up and headed for the Red Lounge.

Now at this point you may be wondering why the Shoutster has not gained any buffoon points Well it is down to what happened next. Now he was still well plastered, only having been awake for about an hour. The Major, who was well greased by this point, got in a yard of Jagermeister, which a few ducked out of, which lead to Shouty knocking back about four of them. This lead to somebody daring him to drink a yard, ie 10 shots, of Killepitsch. He wouldn't agree at first, and as part of our mission to get him to do it, we waved all points scored up to then, and promised to get him back to the hotel. He agreed. I know a few of you have probably seen the video clip on Facebook, and I will post it on here tonight, KC is e-mailing me it when he gets in from work. At first he seemed to wear it well, but after half an hour he was destroyed. We took him for a coffee, but it had no effect. At on point he looked at Queso, told him he loved him, and tears trickled down his cheek. The next minute he was trying to take a leak on a busy street. The effort to get him home was immense, and not without it's fair share of incidents. Steve's ploy was to walk ahead, and he would follow, but this proved flawed, as we turned around to see him spark out on the floor surrounded by policemen. Once again we got him on his feet and moving, this time aided by Sandro, who appeared from nowhere. By now he was hitting the deck every five metres. The funniest one was when he stumbled, and put his hands on a car that was stopped at a red light. The panicked driver threw it into reverse, and once again tarmac beckoned. Finally we got him into his hotel room, and I left him in the recovery position. The it was off back down town.

And an excellent night it was, at our favourite after hours spot, Bannerman 6. The music ranged from old school house tunes too, crazy German folk songs, our favourite can be seen in the post below. Many new German friends were made, and the Kolsch was ice cold. Sprocket garnered some more points for his foolish rose trick, and Sandro ate some more pork sandwiches. The next day was football day, and the weather was cracking. I will do a full report later under an "Away days" thread, hopefully tomorrow. Shotgun scored another point, as he kept asking if Munich were at home, even though we were in Dusseldorf. After the game we met up with Sandro and Steve, who watched Arsenal go down to Wigan, which cheered up the Major no end, and a reprieved Trigger, who had kissed and made up with Queso. The rest of the afternoon was spent drinking lager and eating schnitzel by the banks of the Rhine, on a lovely sunny afternoon. Sunday night was spent, where else, at the Bannerman 6, after a steak dinner. Killepitsch and kolsch was the order of the day, and we stayed out till the club shut. The bouncer, Ludwig, was not to be messed with, although he did send us onto another club that was still open. Alas, only me, Shouty and Queso made it, Crespo and Dessi blagged their way into a house party. Crespo scored his points here. As soon as he got there, he went for a dump, used up all the toilet paper and passed out on the sofa. Shouty and Queso also earned a point each for emptying the dance floor in a Turkish bar, with a heroic display of pissed up dad dancing. They just didn't empty the dance floor. They emptied the whole building, so it was off to another seedy bar, where a persistent prostitute got the full Brister. She was a proper Munter, pissed and wouldn't leave me alone. So I finally snapped, told her "I didn't want to fuck her ten minutes ago, now or in another ten minutes, here is two euros now FUCK OFF and leave me alone!" It worked. She ended up blowing off some other dude in the toilet. The final points of the trip though were scored by Queso. At around eight o'clock in the morning, I'd done enough so chipped. This left him and Shouty, who left about 30 minutes later. Shouty passed out in the cab, leaving the Fromage as last man standing. He decided to call me up, and big him self up as the new champion drinker of Europe. Of course this didn't mean he wasn't wankered, and instead of me rang up the Elster, who was less than impressed by his marathon drinking feat, or the fact he called her a "Good Egg" several times.

The trip home was fairly incident free, but long. Over elven hours long. We cheered ourselves up with the Sandro song, but as we finally got to the M62, even this comedy gem was wearing thin. Would I do it again? You bet your boots I would, although if we are to do another road trip, it won't all be done in one go. I have tried to recap all the buffoonery I can remember, and you may well see an update at a later date, if other tales are recounted. In fact I can think of a few, but it is nearly time for five a side, so i shall wrap this up now. When I get into tonight, or tomorrow after work I will update "Le Grande Buffoon" standings, and post some videos, especially the one of Shouty's drinking feat. I shall post the link to the smugmug gallery.

Crazy German Song

Perhaps you had too be there, but this song packs the dance floor in Dusseldorf. I have absolutely no idea what it means, bit it is now officially Grande Queso's theme tune. Kev sings it best, so next time there is Karaoke on, we shall see if they have it. Sandro also has a new theme tune, but I need to get it blue toothed off Crespo, an will then get it uploaded. We also have to figure out a way to get it onto the King of the Pixies mobile as his ring tone. Thanks to brother Shouty for finding the link to it.

Road Trip!!!!!

Volcanic ash, kiss my arse! At the moment, 8:00 there is a remote chance of us flying, but I reckon I have a better chance of winning the lottery, than us taking off. So a road trip looks imminent. It will be an epic adventure covering 557 mile, a time zone and traversing five countries. It's a hazardous route, and I don't expect everyone to pull through, but beer needs to be drunk! A monument shall be erected to those brave souls who make the ultimate sacrifice.....


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Busy, Busy, Busy

It's been a few hectic days, so yet again I have failed to keep up to the blog. I was going to post something last night at the game, but it was way too cold, so I decided to catch up before the weekly tussle down the Wood. Saturday was Grand National day, and I looked forward with great hope, as thanks to evil M.R.S. member Helen, I had taken possession of the "Fez of Fortune" which all but guaranteed a winner for the Brister. But I should have known better, and the only winner associated with the Fez was of course Helen. One by one my footie bets tumbled, and then my Lottery numbers, begging the question of my Head wear "Fez of Failure?" Only time will tell. Maybe it's because it's a tad on the small side for my massive bonce? Anyway, I have uploaded a gallery of all the Villager misfits trying it on, and doing their best Tommy Cooper's, apart from Gareeeee who decided on a psychotic carpet seller look. I was hoping Shouty would have been sporting his spectacles, as I could have called Morocco Mole for the duration of the evening, but he more than made up for it with his "Istanbul was Constantinople" song and dance routine, which although rubbish, was strangely infectious, and resulted in half the pub singing along. Pick of the bunch, as pictured below, has to be the King of the Pixies, who looks like he has just stepped of a magic carpet. We just need a miniature one for Skanks now, so any of you Blue Peter types, get busy!


Sunday was very much a day of rest, and Monday night I faced off against Paulcano's crew at five a side. Them boys are seriously out of shape. Tuesday was a freezing night at Valley Parade, for a nothing end of season game against Morecambe. Surprisingly we won, which makes it mathematically impossible for us to get relegated to the Conference. Maybe next year, eh? So hear I am, tapping away, psyching myself up for the head to head down the Wood, to hopefully get back on level terms. But the big one is now on the horizon, and there are only two sleeps till Dusseldorf. I am hoping to post from the Fatherland, but considering the alcohol intake predicted, I wouldn't bet on it.

For much Moroccan Madness follow this fez-tacular link.

MoFo Evilness Knows no Bounds

Not content with thwarting our efforts on Wednesday nights down the Wood, the evil rent boy chasers infiltrated the EuroMillions lottery, preventing the Upper George 4 winning the UK lottery raffle. The first three letters required to win were JMF. The toss pots. Hopefully my new "Fez of Fortune" will fend off of the MoFo jinx today, as I have backed rank outsider Joe Lively to earn me some beer tokens, and it is also a double roll over on the national Lottery. More likely my new head gear will in fact turn out to be the "Fez of Failure." At least it will match my "Wristband of Woe, " "underperforming Undies" and not least my "Belt of Bungles"

Aye Oop

Helo, this me posting from my new mobile. The wonders of the modern age, eh? Of course this does not mean I have anything worthwhile to say, I am just borerd. The weather is nice, mind, hope it keeps up for our imminent jaunt too Germany. We Are having a bit of a warm up on Saturday afternoon to watch the Grand National, when we will find out if my new "Fez of Fortune" will live up to it,s name. Thats enough for now, I am off too see if I cab find some porn.

Beer Ad of the Week

Yet another Bud Light effort. They must have to work harder, knowing that the stuff tastes like piss...

Happy Feet Dances to Victory

Sorry about the delay in this weeks gripping account of the doings down the Wood, but I have been wrestling with my new mobile phone, which is currently making me feel like a numb 42 year old. Any way I digress. The two sides were a hastily put together affair, thanks too loads of drop outs. Just to show the gratitude I receive for busting my arse making sure we have ten players, both Clogs and Luklear griped about how unfair the sides were! You just can't win.

The game itself was probably the tightest of the year, and it was all square with five minutes to go. But the one thing the nefarious JMF had to it's advantage was the Human Dynamo, aka Happy Feet. Combine this with Mercenary's heel injury, and it was too much for the valiant Euro Boys to hold out. The gaps were to great in our defence, and the tireless Happy set one up and scored another to cap a two goal victory. The bastard. Anyway that's all I can say, as Get Carter is on the box, and it's got to the bit where Britt Ekland is having a right good wank, so I have completely lost my train of thought.

JMF- Child Catcher, Crespo, Funky, Luklear War and Happy Feet

EURO E- Euro Bri, Clogs, Shouty, The Mecenary and Big Phil

2010 Season

JMF wins - 7


Euro Elite - 6


Draws - 0

A Very Good Friday

So that's the first bank holiday of the year over and done with, and on Friday we took off on the first proper Bender of the year. A most excellent turnout, and pretty much everything went to plan, I think we just about made to all the dive bars, only missing the Commercial, before ending up throwing shapes in Lloyds, and having a night cap in Mingles. Not all of us made the course, but buffoonery was at a premium, apart from a couple of incidents. This doesn't mean there wasn't any stupidity on show, it was on the whole just the normal drunken japery. The two exceptions involved the Child Catcher, who was taken in by my Ronaldinho April first post, asking how much they had paid for him. One point to the youngster. But he did score an agreed three points, along with El Grande Queso, for an unseemly wrestling match outside the Boy and Barrell. The Catcher had been getting a bit uppity for a spell, and the Queso responded by dunking his mobile phone into his pint. The lad didn't look best pleased. After an hour or so of bickering, Stevie offered to fix it. When the Catcher handed over his phone, and yes you could see this coming a mile off, it was rapidly dispensed back into his pint. Result, melee in street. Queso thinks three points are harsh, but it has been passed. Crespo said it was most embarrassing, and that the pair off them were rolling around like a couple of randy rent boys.

That was the main incident of the evening, special mention goes out to the Boy Dazzler, who after a long absence, put in a n epic effort, and along with Helmet, went to work the next day, even though they had their last beer at around four o'clock in the morning. We salute you. And I personally would like to also salute the pubs of Bradford. After months of slagging the city centre off, we had a blinding night, I would recommend anybody visiting the place to eshew the faceless corporate bars around the "West End" and keep it real round the old school saloons of Bradford town. Next up, and it is now only 9 days and counting, Germany. A fine state of affairs indeed.

Updated Buffoon Standings

1. Child Catcher 11 points
2. Trigger 10 points
   
3. Crespo 10 points
4. El Grande Queso 9 points
   
5. Euro Bri 8 points
   
6. Gareeeeeee 4 points
7. Mikey D 3 Points
8. John the Don 2 points
9. Shouty 2 points
   
10. San 1 Point

Top Ten....Bender Etiquette

Our first major Bender of the year is only hours away, and it is shaping up to be a good one, as a good turn out looks on the cards. It is also nice to see some old school members making a welcome return to the fold. But what makes a good piss up? This weeks "Top Ten" will lay out the top tips to ensure that your session with the lads is worthy retelling over and over, rather than whispered in embarrassment as you show up home to the wife at half past eight.

1. Leave It! The most important thing on a jolly old knees up is that everybody gets along. We all get enough strife at home from her indoors and the offspring, so making sure there are no needless fall outs is imperative. Arguments are the only sure fire way of bringing the night to an early close, and there is one rule that should be obeyed above all others. Don't fuck with a guys beer. It is a most gay thing to do, no matter how innocuous you think it is. Ale is a thing of beauty, to be cherished and enjoyed. It us for life, not just for Christmas. Yes I am looking at you Child Catcher.
2. Big it Up. One of my favourite adages is "Don't let the truth stand in the way of a good tale" and when on the lash all embellishments are heartily welcomed. Nothing provokes conversation better than a bold statement, or a tall tale. The fact that a minor tale, told in a correct manner, can become a Bender squad myth is a skill that should be cherished. This tip brings us nicely on to our next one....
3. Don't be Shy. The noise level when a bunch of alpha males gather can be of ear splitting level, so to get one's self noticed, and there by invited out, on a regular basis, means that being a shy, retiring wall flower just isn't going to cut it. The fact that you have absolutely nothing to say is neither here nor there, witness the rise of both Helmet and Shouty amongst the ranks. If this is not your style, try being a spectacular drunkard, in the manner of a Jamon or Dazzler, or a monumentally deluded karaoke singer, such as myself. Remember the squad is like a pride of lions. When you serve no purpose you are discarded.
4. Drink Up! Soft drinks just will not do. Nor will half of pints (unless you are in a country that doesn't serve pints). A bottle is acceptable, but that is about the limit. It doesn't matter that you can barely stand, or may be in dire need of a stomach pump, either take yourself off home, or pass out on the spot. You will be looked after. That is what our collective is all about.
5. Lady Boy! Just one of the derogatory names that is allowed to be used against a fellow member. In fact any slur that calls one's sexuality into question is allowed, we are not after all, the Labour party. Mild teasing concerning ones clothing/appearance is also condoned, but remember, let's keep it civil. One thing never to be raised is any kind of slander against a fellow compadre's better half, unless it is instigated by them. Even then, proceed with caution, as it can be embarrassing once you have sobered up, to know you told your best mate that you would love to bum his life partner.
6. I Love You! The fact that we all question each others commitment to the ways of the heterosexual, doesn't mean we are not in touch with our feminine side, and after a long day on the lash there is nowt wrong with telling one your drinking buddies that you love them. As long as you are drunk that is. Doing it when sober is a little bit circumspect. It is a peculiar trait of ours, that we spend all evening calling each other rent boys, and then once suitably inebriated, tell each that we "Love You!" Sigmund Freud would have had a field day.
7. Catch Up. What you do if you fall be hind, or if there are differing ideas on what course of action to take. For example, if a few want to grab a pie, and the rest want to go to the next boozer ? Fine, we'll catch up. This ain't work, and there are no hard and fast rules about sticking together, no matter what. You can't please all the folk all of the time, and it is good that we can split up for a spell and rejoin, with out any major meetings to determine our next course of action.
8. Rounds. A tricky one this, as if the outing attracts a large attendance, the cost of getting 'em in, can get quite pricey. In such an event it's is always advisable to split up into several small rounds. The best tip I can give, however, is to never get in a round that involves Shouty, as he consumes liquid like a drain. Trying to keep up to him only ever results in an early night, and numerous buffoon points.
9. Promises. Not the one's you make too your beer drinking brethren, Nobody expects you to keep them. No, I mean the one's you make to the old trouble and strife to get yourself out in the first place. Because rest assured, when your laid out in your pit, suffering the mother of all hangovers, she will be riding your ass to get you to keep that hasty promise. tread carefully my friends.
10. Fun. Remember the only reason we piss such a vast amount of money up the wall is because it is a hoot. May the bendering continue for decades too come. See you Friday.