Monday, September 28, 2009

The page that still has all it's own teeth

I would just like to start this post by offering my aoplogies to my neighbours for the noise coming from my unit on Saturday afternoon. Im a Cats supporter you see, and when Chapman knocked through that goal with 1 minute to go I let out a "F@#* YEAH" that probably woke the dead! But in the end I feel that it just makes us even for keeping me up at night with their shagging and the weird talking they do during it. I mean who says "well it has been alot less crying than I am use to" during sex?

King of the Week

It is a credit to Cadel that he is able to put aside the fact the he is one ugly f@#*er and still ride like a champ. Maybe his opponents are so turned off by that big ugly melon that when he is riding next to them they would rather fall pack to the pack than have to look at it for hours on end, we will never know. So he can't win the Tour, but he is World Champion, interesting. And as his prize? He gets to wear the "Rainbow Jersey" for the entire year. Does that mean he is now riding for Team Gay now?

Dick of the Week

There were actually nominations for Fevola to be both the King and Dick of the week, but ultimately the guy is better suited to this title. I have to admit that I found all the stuff that he did at the Brownlows bloody funny, I mean he was never really offensive, when the cameras were on at least. At least he had the decency to get his pregnant wife home before he comes back and starts groping anything that breathes. But then anyone who turns up to a Mad Monday celebration with a giant dildo is oozing class!

A crying shame
Another big weekend of sport. The mighty Cats become 2009 champions; the Saints first losers. Cadel Evans becomes the first-ever Australian to secure a road race victory at the world cycling championships. All big news in itself, but what is it that has got me bugged about these two sporting events?

Well, it’s a crying shame that’s what it is! Tears. Tears in sport. Tears in men’s sports. What the f#*k is going on lately!

Federer is the world’s best when it comes to ‘tear jerks’ – win or lose. When he first cried after winning the Australian Open I thought it was OK. Now it’s a little embarrassing. Come on mate – you lost the game. And, by the way, your wife’s fat! Well maybe that’s it. When you don’t win and you know you’re going home to fat sex – that can be a little upsetting.

So, are Australia’s top sporting men a pack of wusses? Or is crying OK? Is the fact Nick Riewoldt and Co. threw away a lifetime of dedication and training in the dying minutes of an AFL Grand Final a good enough reason to cry? If they hardened the ‘F’ up maybe they wouldn’t have ended up in that situation in the first place.

And then there’s our cycling 'second-place' sensation, Cadel. Finally, he’s standing on top of a podium surrounded by hot Swiss chicks holding champagne and he’s sobbing. Maybe you'd show some real balls if you didn’t wear lycra. Well, hang on…those bike pants can be a little confronting at times.

And what about us fans. We’re not the ones out there copping a bollocking at training every day. We don’t wake up every morning with that burning ambition to be the best in the world. So are we allowed to cry? Well, I’ll be honest, I nearly cried when Lucas Neil brought Grosso down in the box in World Cup 06. I nearly cried when Johnny Wikinson kicked THAT field goal in the Rugby World Cup final. I nearly cried when I lost $500 on a ‘sure thing’ at Randwick. But I’ve never ever gone the full waterworks on a sport event. Maybe I’m not passionate enough. Or then again, maybe I’m just a real tough f#*cker!

Anyone interested?
Just thought that I'd let everyone know that I have a spare Grand Final ticket for this weekend. With the Mighty Bulldogs going out I don't really feel like going now. If any of you Eels supporters out there want it just email me at gof@#*yourself@f@#* and we can negotiate a price.
Dan the Man

Don't say I didn't warn you
So they made the Grand Final hey? The team in the the NRL with the biggest bogan supporter base bar none. Supporters that love nothing more than kicking back in their reclaimed council pick up lounge, warm VB in one hand, 4 and 20 pie in the other, pack of Winny Reds tucked up the sleeve of a flanel shirt that should have been thrown out in 1983. And you know the sickest part about them, they actually love what they are!

I just wanted to write in and offer a warning to all the dentists out there, please do not watch the grand final! I beg of you. You know they are going to do some big pans of the crowd, zooming in on the biggest collection on bogans out side of the Bathurst 1000 and I fear for the dentists health, especially those with heart conditions. Can you imagine it when they all open their mouths together to scream "c'mon Eels", there will struggle to be a full set of teeth between the lot of them, a dentists worst nightmare.

Don't be surprised if the next time you ring to make an appointment at the dentists that the receptionist says "I'm sorry, Dr. Bullock passed away last weekend, he watched the NRL Grand Final".

Show me the money
Lets start it off with Wigan v Chelsea.. 3:1 .. do i need to say more.. oh how a football fan loves to see a team of supertars be beaten and convoncingly.... time to relate back to a Boom post, Wigan v Chelsea = Leeds v Liverpool.. one only dares to dream..

Ok onto the rant.... playing football this year I know a team needs to survive in thie GEC, glabal economic crisis but when I looked up the fee's on my local FA's website I noticed $150 being the fee associated with being a team member of a club associatied with the ESFA (eastern suburbs football association) yeah my club charged me $360 for the season.... and then $60 for the presentation night.. am I playing for the wrong team or is this expected of playing in the eastern suburbs..

On to a funnier note, I have recently started taking the golf clubs out for a bash.. playing at randwick golf course wich is actually located in malabar, on the 9th hole one of only 4 holes that is not a par 3 I pull the cover off the dusty driver and take stance.. with an all mighty wallop of the little dimpled ball I look up and see it moving at quite a pace and then it starts right and right and even further right.. following the path of the ball I see the clubhouse is within range and I see the abundance of glass windows... hiding behind my bag I hear an tremendously loud noise.. fearing the worst I make my way towards the clubhouse wiht barmen and members waiting and find that it was a plastic umbrella outside that had taken the force of the
ball. even after a barage of abuse from locals and me eventually making a joke of the situation it turns out my ball was still in play so wiht a swing of the pw and a a one putt I managed to birdie the hole and beat opposition on the day by two strokes...

I think my next step should be getting skins to get me a pass on St Michaels.. I'm sure I could make my mark out there and probably get myself banned from playing agian..

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