Euro's World: Summer Stupidity

The sun has finally come out, and as the temperature goes up, so follows the idiocy. Firstly a catch up from FA Cup final day. Not a lot went down, but Helmet earned himself three points for losing £70 on the bus on the way into town. He had too wait outside Spoons for me to arrive, and for his missus to fetch him some replacement dosh, of which she was not impressed. I also reaped a point for failing to grasp Helmets inept "May the Fourth be with you" joke.

Fast forward to England's first game of the World Cup. After sinking a load of lager, we decided to chase them down with a load of Jaegermeisters. This resulted in me doing something that I have not done in decades. I went home and pissed all over the landing. The Elster was not impressed, let me tell you, and the only thing that stops me scoring the maximum points was that it wasn't in my wardrobe, bed or even worse, our lasses hair. I fully accept the six points that have been agreed. These can combined with the couple of points I earned for purchasing a pack of boxer shorts, that were on sale, with out checking the labels, or colour. I got them home, to find I had bought a pair of lime green, spandex shorts, that as the picture below reveal, are not very flattering. Another point. This got me worried, that with the demise of the usual suspects, that I may yet catch Trigger, and have to award myself the Maillott Jaune of 2010. But more stupidity was afoot, that was not yet known, but has since been brought to my attention.

The Favelas of Rio. The townships of Soweto. The projects of the Bronx. These well documented crime zones are joined in infamy with the wild borough of Gilstead. Why? According to the Child Catcher, it was here that he was mugged by a ribald gang of ragamuffins, who relieved him of his wallet, phone, and keys, and left him nursing a few bruises. Well that is his side of the tale, so anything may well have happened, as he was too arsed to remember exactly what happened. Queso thought this may have been worthy of a perfect "10" but considering what he did next, it was agreed that seven was to be awarded. "What Happened next?" I hear you wonder. Well the young fella and Queso went down to Birmingham on some business, and after a hard days graft decided to let down their hair. After several sherberts, Charlie staggered up to the bar, and ordered the largest cocktail that they served, and slopped it all over his shirt. This meant, combined with being inebriated, he was refused entry to the night club they were after visiting. Figuring he needed to sort himself out, he went in search of a "livener" and approached the first chap of colour he came across. This chap told him he could sort him out with what he wanted, and the Catcher handed over a crisp £20 note to this complete stranger, who proceeded to place cash in his pocket, and scarper off down the road, at a rapid rate of knots. This alone may not have scored him the max, but the fact he tried to palm some of the blame off onto Queso earns him "dix points." Perhaps the title is not a forgone conclusion after all....

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