Well what a dynamic weekend!
First things first, Saturday, I was working. Now I really do enjoy the fact that may job is meant to help out the less fortunate, however weekends... working... well I do need money from somewhere. I shouldn't bellyache about things like that and just get on with it.
Mind you I do have a soft spot in my heart for Norwich... go'on Canaries! 'ave em!
Sunday was a much more productive day. The Arsenal faithful were dealt the normal cards and seated in the Arsenal section, in the back of the pub. While the main event, MancScum v. Shitty was appearing on the bigger screens.
It was well worth it.
Since ManCity Himself decided to take a vacation to a small Caribbean territory, the One and Only decided to take his place. It was quite funny from where I sat. You could hear her voice above all the rest. The normal, quiet, reserved English lass had dropped the gloves and was out swinging.
Honestly, she made up for the lack of ManCity Himself not being there. Johnny and the boys couldn't piece together a proper song to save their lives. Well seeing that I never spied half of them before and that goes for both sides of the ScummyShitty fence.
I do want to give a hearty congrats to the Shitty though, still not a big team but keep it up and some day you'll be like your more well known and overly marketed cousin. I dare not call them brothers or the whole of Manchester would probably burn down. Aw what the hell, cousin-brothers!
The rest of the afterglow was spent chatting with Vincenzo and Camo about various things before and after the dismantling of Chelski at the hands of who? I don't know some Park Rangers or something, haven't been in the league in 15 odd years or so. Bad thing is, I actually remember when they were in the top flight. Back before the money moved in and the chairman lost his soul. Back when I could play 90 minutes and not complain about my ankles the next morning. Back when I was satisfied reading the Monday paper on Tuesday for match reports of the past weekend.
I could go on but that would be pointless.
One that note.. did anyone notice Wright-Phillips played on the left and Joey Barton on the right wing! I could tell my other joke but it's not good for mixed company.
Now for Girls Aloud! (aka The One and Only and her crew)
I know half the pub didn't get that joke, which is even funnier!
c'est la vie
~LeChat
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
24 October 2011
01 December 2010
Wigan at home (Carling Cup)
Another mid-week gone by and what is there to say? Not much I suppose. As usual I found myself dealing with work stuff. Good thing is, the phone lines went down, so most of the morning was spent actually doing my job, rather than returning calls from over-needy clients.
ArseBob and PastryMan had some little bet going on FB about starting lineups. I popped my head in on it but wasn't really up for the challenge. I'm not that good at picking starting lineups. Years and years of ChampMan has taught me that. One day Bristol City will be the powerhouse team, with my cyber-self as manager.
So I had the gamecast all set up at work. Then like 101 things happened and I totally forgot about it. The more annoying thing, at least at the time, was the Guardian had the play by play only for the MancScum game. In the end however, it turned out to be a boon rather than a bust.
WestHam had it's way with United like Giggs on a sheep farm. At least that's the analogy I was given. I actually didn't find out the final tally until I was about to leave work. The same time I remembered I had the gamecast going on for the Arsenal match.
Yes, that's right, I can be brain dead at times. It just happens.
All in all, with a nice little berth into the semi-finals of the Carling, I can be at least a tad bit happy for the moment.
~LeChat
ArseBob and PastryMan had some little bet going on FB about starting lineups. I popped my head in on it but wasn't really up for the challenge. I'm not that good at picking starting lineups. Years and years of ChampMan has taught me that. One day Bristol City will be the powerhouse team, with my cyber-self as manager.
So I had the gamecast all set up at work. Then like 101 things happened and I totally forgot about it. The more annoying thing, at least at the time, was the Guardian had the play by play only for the MancScum game. In the end however, it turned out to be a boon rather than a bust.
WestHam had it's way with United like Giggs on a sheep farm. At least that's the analogy I was given. I actually didn't find out the final tally until I was about to leave work. The same time I remembered I had the gamecast going on for the Arsenal match.
Yes, that's right, I can be brain dead at times. It just happens.
All in all, with a nice little berth into the semi-finals of the Carling, I can be at least a tad bit happy for the moment.
~LeChat
01 November 2010
Newcastle Away (Carling) and West Ham at Home
I am doing the double, as mid-week I had little to say. Mind you I did have healthy fear of Newcastle away but it was much ado about nothing. For once, I was able to catch the second half of a mid-week.
The night before was the annual awards ceremony for my work. We had a certain gentleman who was fired from NPR just days before speaking. Long story short, the boss said we could either come in late or leave early the next day. I prefer leaving early in general.
I made it home to catch the second half. Right good timing. At one point I sent littleblondiegooner a text, to which she replied with pure vitriol and venom. I don't know but I think being in Beverly Hills affected her somehow. Not my fault you're on the west coast. The text simply stated BENDTNER by the way.
Onward ho towards the Premiership.
Saturday was spent as many other Saturdays, with the exception of it being the day before Halloween. Which, by the way, is not the greatest of holidays for black cats as they tend to be tortured and killed around this time of year by true assholes.
ManShitty, Chelski and the Arsenal all had games on at the same time so it was a battle of wills for the main screen. ManCityhimself offered up for the Arsenal crowd, as he thought it would be the better game. I didn't really care and conceded since there were definitely going to be more of them than us. No Chelski had shown up at this point.
HalfArseDean popped in wearing an Incredibles costume. I didn't even recognize him at first as he had this big afro wig on his usually shaven head. The pub started to fill up slowly, mostly Arsenal and the rest of ManCity.
Right before kick off the Chelski boys rolled in with big grins and their usual jovial spirits. They stood about for a few minutes and found that their game had been relegated to the back. Mind, they were a bit crossed and decided to hump it upstairs.
I have to admit the ManShitty game was actually pretty enjoyable. It's going to be sad when they aren't in Europe. Um, nevermind, I lied as I won't be sad. Big team that one is, right. Right?!
Actually just got done reading an article about how they are becoming as much of a threat as MancScum. It's not that important of an article, so I'm not going to link it. Mentioning MancScum however reminds me of that Nani goal.
That goal has received almost as much attention as some others, which we won't be mentioning. Really it's not that big of a deal, is it?
Play to the whistle, the mantra that is drilled into as a 6 year old on a chilly rainy fall morning, wherever it is you were. PLAY TO THE WHISTLE!
One of the Guardian blogs quoted a Graham Poll Daily Mail column with this diddy.
Well no one really likes Graham Poll but he does make some sense here. You don't have to like him to agree with him.
It's like the conversation I was having with the Grue about German engineering and science in the early 20th century. While that end of the deal was pretty good, the engineering and technology bit; the shit that surrounded regarding the treatment of non-German peoples really screwed the whole pooch, inside out and backwards.
Seriously, good things from bad people, it really does happen that way sometimes. Not that Graham Poll is Hitler or anything like that, please don't get me wrong on that one. But there's an actual poll or was on Monday about whether the refs are biased for MancScum.
It wasn't an overwhelming majority who believed so but it was still a majority. A poll that has mysteriously disappeared, unlike Graham Poll.
Spooky, isn't it.
~LeChat
The night before was the annual awards ceremony for my work. We had a certain gentleman who was fired from NPR just days before speaking. Long story short, the boss said we could either come in late or leave early the next day. I prefer leaving early in general.
I made it home to catch the second half. Right good timing. At one point I sent littleblondiegooner a text, to which she replied with pure vitriol and venom. I don't know but I think being in Beverly Hills affected her somehow. Not my fault you're on the west coast. The text simply stated BENDTNER by the way.
Onward ho towards the Premiership.
Saturday was spent as many other Saturdays, with the exception of it being the day before Halloween. Which, by the way, is not the greatest of holidays for black cats as they tend to be tortured and killed around this time of year by true assholes.
ManShitty, Chelski and the Arsenal all had games on at the same time so it was a battle of wills for the main screen. ManCityhimself offered up for the Arsenal crowd, as he thought it would be the better game. I didn't really care and conceded since there were definitely going to be more of them than us. No Chelski had shown up at this point.
HalfArseDean popped in wearing an Incredibles costume. I didn't even recognize him at first as he had this big afro wig on his usually shaven head. The pub started to fill up slowly, mostly Arsenal and the rest of ManCity.
Right before kick off the Chelski boys rolled in with big grins and their usual jovial spirits. They stood about for a few minutes and found that their game had been relegated to the back. Mind, they were a bit crossed and decided to hump it upstairs.
I have to admit the ManShitty game was actually pretty enjoyable. It's going to be sad when they aren't in Europe. Um, nevermind, I lied as I won't be sad. Big team that one is, right. Right?!
Actually just got done reading an article about how they are becoming as much of a threat as MancScum. It's not that important of an article, so I'm not going to link it. Mentioning MancScum however reminds me of that Nani goal.
That goal has received almost as much attention as some others, which we won't be mentioning. Really it's not that big of a deal, is it?
Play to the whistle, the mantra that is drilled into as a 6 year old on a chilly rainy fall morning, wherever it is you were. PLAY TO THE WHISTLE!
One of the Guardian blogs quoted a Graham Poll Daily Mail column with this diddy.
Unusually this situation had two alternative endings, both right in law - let the goal stand or give a free-kick for the missed handball after consultation with Beck. Personally I would have done the latter. Of course that would have saved Gomes the embarrassment that his stupidity perhaps deserved.
Well no one really likes Graham Poll but he does make some sense here. You don't have to like him to agree with him.
It's like the conversation I was having with the Grue about German engineering and science in the early 20th century. While that end of the deal was pretty good, the engineering and technology bit; the shit that surrounded regarding the treatment of non-German peoples really screwed the whole pooch, inside out and backwards.
Seriously, good things from bad people, it really does happen that way sometimes. Not that Graham Poll is Hitler or anything like that, please don't get me wrong on that one. But there's an actual poll or was on Monday about whether the refs are biased for MancScum.
It wasn't an overwhelming majority who believed so but it was still a majority. A poll that has mysteriously disappeared, unlike Graham Poll.
Spooky, isn't it.
~LeChat
20 October 2010
Shakhtar Donetsk at HOME (CL)
A bit of group H action happening yesterday as the beloved Arsenal delivered the quality that they are capable of. Mind you, I haven't even looked at the game yet. I don't really see the point. I guess I could peruse the highlights but in all honesty, group fixtures really just seem pointless sometimes.
I know that's unfair statement to make, because in some ways it does matter. It matters to the teams that on paper may not look like they have any reason for being where they are. They get to prove themselves. They get to show us their mettle so to speak.
The reality of it is that while they may drag a competition out for a long, long time, it has become a necessary evil. The big boys can't just flash around the money and top named stars. They have to prove it where it counts... on the pitch.
Fairness, equality, brotherhood? Oh that all sounds too familiar doesn't it. Simply put; life is not fair, all are not created equal and brotherhood is a two way street that many simply won't cross.
It's pitiful that lofty principles and ideals are thrown to the wayside. However, it can all be sorted out with these lengthy group stages. I think there need to be more group stages, even though, like I said, they do become tedious.
Yes, that's right I am speaking in complete circles.
Could you imagine though. You arrive at the DMV/MVA and instead of waiting in line because you showed up 2 minutes after the 20 other people in line. You had a group stage to determine your final place in line. I mean it would take just as long but I don't know what kind of competition you could have at the MVA. Maybe based on how big of a fine you had to pay versus some other factor divided by your known emotional quotient multiplied by the IQ of the supervisor on duty.
I think you could get quite a few upsets out of that. OH the guy with the lost tags just dropped to 14th in line, losing to the grandma who hasn't had insurance for the 20 years. What a dramatic turn around we have here. Just goes to show, grandma sincerity trumps douchebags self-entitlement every day. She's worked hard at it.
Oh by the way, YAY EDUARDO! Nice goal and welcome back!
(I took a peek at the goals.)
Well here's hoping for a better world... tomorrow. Now back to my wine.
~LeChat
I know that's unfair statement to make, because in some ways it does matter. It matters to the teams that on paper may not look like they have any reason for being where they are. They get to prove themselves. They get to show us their mettle so to speak.
The reality of it is that while they may drag a competition out for a long, long time, it has become a necessary evil. The big boys can't just flash around the money and top named stars. They have to prove it where it counts... on the pitch.
Fairness, equality, brotherhood? Oh that all sounds too familiar doesn't it. Simply put; life is not fair, all are not created equal and brotherhood is a two way street that many simply won't cross.
It's pitiful that lofty principles and ideals are thrown to the wayside. However, it can all be sorted out with these lengthy group stages. I think there need to be more group stages, even though, like I said, they do become tedious.
Yes, that's right I am speaking in complete circles.
Could you imagine though. You arrive at the DMV/MVA and instead of waiting in line because you showed up 2 minutes after the 20 other people in line. You had a group stage to determine your final place in line. I mean it would take just as long but I don't know what kind of competition you could have at the MVA. Maybe based on how big of a fine you had to pay versus some other factor divided by your known emotional quotient multiplied by the IQ of the supervisor on duty.
I think you could get quite a few upsets out of that. OH the guy with the lost tags just dropped to 14th in line, losing to the grandma who hasn't had insurance for the 20 years. What a dramatic turn around we have here. Just goes to show, grandma sincerity trumps douchebags self-entitlement every day. She's worked hard at it.
Oh by the way, YAY EDUARDO! Nice goal and welcome back!
(I took a peek at the goals.)
Well here's hoping for a better world... tomorrow. Now back to my wine.
~LeChat
24 August 2010
Blackpool at Home
Ah my trickery has succeeded. It was my plan all along to write on Tuesday. It was, I assure you. This weekend provided not much in the way of excitement or joviality at all. I can say it was pretty boring, in a nut shell.
It's common to assume that a win with such a big scoreline would have oneself much overjoyed but due to the lack of real teeth in the attack and a lackluster showing in the middle and back, it wasn't.
Saturday
The pub was actually quite full. There seem to be a lot more Arsenal showing up. Several faces that I have never spied before. This is definitely a good thing. They all seemed to enjoy the atmosphere from the usual suspects.
I, myself, had been in a rather quiet mode. I had things to do, places to be in the afternoon and decided it would best be to save my energy. However, it was also the last weekend for Bayern to be in town before heading to Afghanistan.
Maybe this is why there was a sort of solemn like atmosphere, even in celebration. Or the simple fact that we were running roughshod over Blackpool, who if they were a better quality team, may have given the Arsenal some trouble.
I guess the only thing that gave any real pleasantry was a small clop of Scum supporters had wallowed their way in. With out much haste, they were all seen to the second floor. Funny thing that, they seem to be multiplying like the ManShitty whorde.
I stuck around a bit for the Chelski game, just to see, or hope for a minor upset. However, we know how that ended up. Bayern had left right before kickoff and the pub faithful in attendance sung him out. It was a touching moment, but since he made mention of tearing up on FB, he's officially a poof!
I do hope he does alright and makes it back in one piece. There seem to be a lot more than usual dropping off lately.
After the half of the Chelski game, I was well tired. It was quite a bore to be honest, or I have given up on football. That I seriously doubt. I think I left around 4-nil, at that point, there is none.
I celebrated the evening with the family, being my mother's 76th and all that. It was quite nice, sitting around, making fun of everyone and just doing nothing.
Sunday
If I said I was hungover, that would be a plain lie. My cousins decided that Saturday evening would be best spent on the back porch with a bottle of 100 proof rum. I chose not to imbibe, as I was still a bit done in from the pub earlier that day.
I just hung around in my room, peeking at the MancScum score, but not really caring. I had an itch to go the pub but decided against it. I tend to spend too much money and not have much recollection of the entire process. The weekend tends to fly by, way too fast.
I decided to curl up with my laptop and watch American History X. Well I watched half of it before going to band practice. I swear I hadn't had so much anger in my mind in a very long time.
At one point, I remember sitting in a chair talking to ScouseDrummer and going in a full tilt rant about how screwed up things are with the whole political climate in the United States. How the same anti-immigrant rant done by Ed Norton in American History X was the exact same one I heard from some fat sweaty politico on the news, and the fact that racist drek is fully accepted now.
I know, preaching to the choir.
Monday
All be it an over-exhilarating day at the work place; Understaffed, OVER busy followed by computers crashing right after lunch. GrumpyGooner gives me a call and for some reason I answer it. Well it is quite odd for him to call me during the middle of the workday and figuring that nothing else bad could happen. So, I answer.
Bad Manners were playing an underground show at an undisclosed warehouse. He made it clear that it would be in my best interest to show up. I usually take him at his word.
After I got off work, I gave ScouseDrummer a call, he'd heard about it from another source and we were both trying to figure out whether we were heading down. He hadn't seen the result of the Liverpool match and I was biting my tongue not to let it blurt out.
I got to the space a bit early, so drove around the corner for a pint. By the time I came back, there were quite a few more cars outside. Walking in I was greeted by GrumpyGooner and ChelskiJohn.
ScouseDrummer had been milling about with some of the other skins and I caught up with him for a bit. It was a pretty good crowd. In the corner, on a set of couches, was NorthLondonYid and crew. He came over and we talked a bit about the Bale goal and games this upcoming week.
He went on about the Young Boys pitch being a bit dodgy and that half the squad had succumb to injuries because of it. I made mention that it must be something in the water or air or something to that effect, as the Arsenal is well aware of playing with half the starting XI out due to injury.
The show was pretty good, even though Bad Manners took their time getting on the stage to play. Scotch Bonnets, the only other band to play, had been done their set about 2 hours prior. GrumpyGooner finally went over and whispered something into someone's ear and they were up on stage... Nice one.
So that is what happened to not publishing on Monday. If anyone really cared. And for my finalé, some old school Bad Manners.
~LeChat
It's common to assume that a win with such a big scoreline would have oneself much overjoyed but due to the lack of real teeth in the attack and a lackluster showing in the middle and back, it wasn't.
Saturday
The pub was actually quite full. There seem to be a lot more Arsenal showing up. Several faces that I have never spied before. This is definitely a good thing. They all seemed to enjoy the atmosphere from the usual suspects.
I, myself, had been in a rather quiet mode. I had things to do, places to be in the afternoon and decided it would best be to save my energy. However, it was also the last weekend for Bayern to be in town before heading to Afghanistan.
Maybe this is why there was a sort of solemn like atmosphere, even in celebration. Or the simple fact that we were running roughshod over Blackpool, who if they were a better quality team, may have given the Arsenal some trouble.
I guess the only thing that gave any real pleasantry was a small clop of Scum supporters had wallowed their way in. With out much haste, they were all seen to the second floor. Funny thing that, they seem to be multiplying like the ManShitty whorde.
I stuck around a bit for the Chelski game, just to see, or hope for a minor upset. However, we know how that ended up. Bayern had left right before kickoff and the pub faithful in attendance sung him out. It was a touching moment, but since he made mention of tearing up on FB, he's officially a poof!
I do hope he does alright and makes it back in one piece. There seem to be a lot more than usual dropping off lately.
After the half of the Chelski game, I was well tired. It was quite a bore to be honest, or I have given up on football. That I seriously doubt. I think I left around 4-nil, at that point, there is none.
I celebrated the evening with the family, being my mother's 76th and all that. It was quite nice, sitting around, making fun of everyone and just doing nothing.
Sunday
If I said I was hungover, that would be a plain lie. My cousins decided that Saturday evening would be best spent on the back porch with a bottle of 100 proof rum. I chose not to imbibe, as I was still a bit done in from the pub earlier that day.
I just hung around in my room, peeking at the MancScum score, but not really caring. I had an itch to go the pub but decided against it. I tend to spend too much money and not have much recollection of the entire process. The weekend tends to fly by, way too fast.
I decided to curl up with my laptop and watch American History X. Well I watched half of it before going to band practice. I swear I hadn't had so much anger in my mind in a very long time.
At one point, I remember sitting in a chair talking to ScouseDrummer and going in a full tilt rant about how screwed up things are with the whole political climate in the United States. How the same anti-immigrant rant done by Ed Norton in American History X was the exact same one I heard from some fat sweaty politico on the news, and the fact that racist drek is fully accepted now.
I know, preaching to the choir.
Monday
All be it an over-exhilarating day at the work place; Understaffed, OVER busy followed by computers crashing right after lunch. GrumpyGooner gives me a call and for some reason I answer it. Well it is quite odd for him to call me during the middle of the workday and figuring that nothing else bad could happen. So, I answer.
Bad Manners were playing an underground show at an undisclosed warehouse. He made it clear that it would be in my best interest to show up. I usually take him at his word.
After I got off work, I gave ScouseDrummer a call, he'd heard about it from another source and we were both trying to figure out whether we were heading down. He hadn't seen the result of the Liverpool match and I was biting my tongue not to let it blurt out.
I got to the space a bit early, so drove around the corner for a pint. By the time I came back, there were quite a few more cars outside. Walking in I was greeted by GrumpyGooner and ChelskiJohn.
ScouseDrummer had been milling about with some of the other skins and I caught up with him for a bit. It was a pretty good crowd. In the corner, on a set of couches, was NorthLondonYid and crew. He came over and we talked a bit about the Bale goal and games this upcoming week.
He went on about the Young Boys pitch being a bit dodgy and that half the squad had succumb to injuries because of it. I made mention that it must be something in the water or air or something to that effect, as the Arsenal is well aware of playing with half the starting XI out due to injury.
The show was pretty good, even though Bad Manners took their time getting on the stage to play. Scotch Bonnets, the only other band to play, had been done their set about 2 hours prior. GrumpyGooner finally went over and whispered something into someone's ear and they were up on stage... Nice one.
So that is what happened to not publishing on Monday. If anyone really cared. And for my finalé, some old school Bad Manners.
~LeChat
15 April 2010
Spurs Away
Yes, you are right.
I had tried to push this to the back of my head. Way to the back, back where no one else can find it. I knew something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. I was having a good day, then all of the sudden the bottom dropped out. My wrist started to hurt, my sinuses started to go.
I sat at work with an annoyed agitation. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I just knew it was not going to be good news.
Scum 2 - The Arsenal 1 ... 85 minutes.
The numbers taunted me. I remember looking at my co-worker and not having a clue what she had said. My mind had ventured off to North London and an invisible tear drained out of my eye.
There is losing, then there is losing to Scum.
St. Totteringham day can not come soon enough. My only hope is the rest of the season sees them finishing out of the top 6 but that is highly unlikely at this point in time.
I did make my way to the pub after work. It was a bit of a Ghost Town. Well there were people there but none of the ones that really mattered. I waited along for Sheffield to come up and we had a few pints.
I had settled on the third place finish a couple of weeks ago but still this loss was worst than losing to United and Chelski combined. Now, the Arsenal needs not to bollocks up the rest of the season and maintain an even keel, otherwise the boat is going to sink.
Now to look forward to the Crystal Palace Baltimore opener on Friday. It should be a good time. I know there is a bit of a buzz around the core. Tailgate at 5PM, Game at 7PM at UMBC.
Station, aka my band, also has a show on Saturday evening at the Sidebar. I do hope I get to sing a bit of Who the FUCK are Man United!
~LeChat
I had tried to push this to the back of my head. Way to the back, back where no one else can find it. I knew something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. I was having a good day, then all of the sudden the bottom dropped out. My wrist started to hurt, my sinuses started to go.
I sat at work with an annoyed agitation. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I just knew it was not going to be good news.
Scum 2 - The Arsenal 1 ... 85 minutes.
The numbers taunted me. I remember looking at my co-worker and not having a clue what she had said. My mind had ventured off to North London and an invisible tear drained out of my eye.
There is losing, then there is losing to Scum.
St. Totteringham day can not come soon enough. My only hope is the rest of the season sees them finishing out of the top 6 but that is highly unlikely at this point in time.
I did make my way to the pub after work. It was a bit of a Ghost Town. Well there were people there but none of the ones that really mattered. I waited along for Sheffield to come up and we had a few pints.
I had settled on the third place finish a couple of weeks ago but still this loss was worst than losing to United and Chelski combined. Now, the Arsenal needs not to bollocks up the rest of the season and maintain an even keel, otherwise the boat is going to sink.
Now to look forward to the Crystal Palace Baltimore opener on Friday. It should be a good time. I know there is a bit of a buzz around the core. Tailgate at 5PM, Game at 7PM at UMBC.
Station, aka my band, also has a show on Saturday evening at the Sidebar. I do hope I get to sing a bit of Who the FUCK are Man United!
~LeChat
07 April 2010
Barca Away (CL)
I sold my team for 2 packs of crips and a pint of porter. While I sat in my semi-air conditioned office building, shuffling papers for the good of those who can't afford an attorney but need representation. FOUR THOUSAND AND NINE MILES away, mas o menos, my beloved club dropped the ball against my other loved but not as much club.
In a perfect world, it would have been a final. I would have loved another Arseloba final. But no. 90 degree weather NO! Building management ceasing to realise the outside temperature is not suppose to equal the inside temperature NO!
So, I remember at one point in time, leaving my desk, absentmindedly walking out into the hall to check my phone for scores and messages, and getting this distinct sinking feeling.
It was as if I heard thousands of souls crying out in pain and then silence.
It was no moon.
The little green light danced at the top of my mobile. My comrade, A Certain Scouser, had been sending me various texts on the colour of Theo's boots and the statistics of Barca versus Arsenal completed passes. That was all I needed to know that it had all gone pear shape with no room for recovery.
I had to wait for my usual mid-week vehicle of ArsenalTV to take a good look at the highlights this morning. I dared not read an actual article of the foretold disaster that laid, well now behind me. My only real surprise about it, is the Arsenal scored first off of a really bad ball, all the way around.
I made mention to the actual tie on the Pub blog, found here. I honestly can't really think of much to say about it all. We got beat. We got beat well. We got beat honest.
ChelskiGirl sent me some condolences, to which I could only reply with indifference. I didn't expect much to happen. A miracle was needed. ACMilan also thought I'd be a bit more upset. I actually think it wrinkled him a bit that I wasn't.
I don't know. I have seen many highs and many lows to not really care when the expected result is concluded and... well... expected. The score line was not even a surprise. Let's just say, all of the goals were even underwhelming.
By the way, GET US OUT OF FUCKING SCUM WHITE!
I will not stand for this shit anymore. Seriously!
OK good news, now that I've let that out, mentioning clubs that play in white who are usually facist dictator loving narcissist. My Real loving cousin finally made it back from the Middle East. There is a nice video of him and his wing returning.
Hopefully I can get him out to some Crystal Palace games and World Cup ties this summer. We will see. We will see.
Oh and headline of the week, courtesy of the Guardian.
MANCHESTER UNITED CRASH OUT OF EUROPE
I swore it said crashed in Munich before. Oh wells, not going to grasp at too many straws to fit my own agenda.
And a little note to ACMilan, I will dig out the post where you said it was going to be an all English final. I will throw it in your face and say to you, I told you it was not going to happen.
Never doubt the great predictor! I got nine lives and a sixth sense.
~LeChat
In a perfect world, it would have been a final. I would have loved another Arseloba final. But no. 90 degree weather NO! Building management ceasing to realise the outside temperature is not suppose to equal the inside temperature NO!
So, I remember at one point in time, leaving my desk, absentmindedly walking out into the hall to check my phone for scores and messages, and getting this distinct sinking feeling.
It was as if I heard thousands of souls crying out in pain and then silence.
It was no moon.
The little green light danced at the top of my mobile. My comrade, A Certain Scouser, had been sending me various texts on the colour of Theo's boots and the statistics of Barca versus Arsenal completed passes. That was all I needed to know that it had all gone pear shape with no room for recovery.
I had to wait for my usual mid-week vehicle of ArsenalTV to take a good look at the highlights this morning. I dared not read an actual article of the foretold disaster that laid, well now behind me. My only real surprise about it, is the Arsenal scored first off of a really bad ball, all the way around.
I made mention to the actual tie on the Pub blog, found here. I honestly can't really think of much to say about it all. We got beat. We got beat well. We got beat honest.
ChelskiGirl sent me some condolences, to which I could only reply with indifference. I didn't expect much to happen. A miracle was needed. ACMilan also thought I'd be a bit more upset. I actually think it wrinkled him a bit that I wasn't.
I don't know. I have seen many highs and many lows to not really care when the expected result is concluded and... well... expected. The score line was not even a surprise. Let's just say, all of the goals were even underwhelming.
By the way, GET US OUT OF FUCKING SCUM WHITE!
I will not stand for this shit anymore. Seriously!
WE ARE THE FUCKING ARSENAL!
OK good news, now that I've let that out, mentioning clubs that play in white who are usually facist dictator loving narcissist. My Real loving cousin finally made it back from the Middle East. There is a nice video of him and his wing returning.
Hopefully I can get him out to some Crystal Palace games and World Cup ties this summer. We will see. We will see.
Oh and headline of the week, courtesy of the Guardian.
MANCHESTER UNITED CRASH OUT OF EUROPE
I swore it said crashed in Munich before. Oh wells, not going to grasp at too many straws to fit my own agenda.
And a little note to ACMilan, I will dig out the post where you said it was going to be an all English final. I will throw it in your face and say to you, I told you it was not going to happen.
Never doubt the great predictor! I got nine lives and a sixth sense.
~LeChat
01 February 2010
United Home
Today, as I was leaving the garage where I park at for work. I pulled forward trying to get a jump on the traffic and cross over Howard. As expected, the light was not in my favor. A guy comes walking by and had to walk around my car, as I was trying to get out in to traffic.
After passing my car, he gives me a dirty look and calls out, "Asshole."
I smiled and nodded so that it was really noticeable. Seriously dude, tell me something that I don't know. Do you really think calling me an asshole is going to affect me in any way? Seriously?
Ok, it gave me a good laugh, I know I am an asshole. I mean I played as a forward/striker for the last 20 years. I only know one thing to do, be an asshole. Self absorbed, moody, blame everyone else for their mistakes cause none of it can be my own fault... need I continue?
Well this weekend was a bit of an interesting one for me. I found myself out in the middling state of Wisconsin, hanging out with a friend of mine. We ended up in a place called McBob's to get a gander at the Fulham-Villa match.
It was a good deal for being out of the element. We also ended up doing the Miller brewery tour. Now those who know, are aware I do have a bad reaction to certain mass produced American brews. However, one can not resist a brewery tour, even if it is Miller time.
I will admit the samples that were given at the end of the tour were about the size of half pints. I also believe the next morning, the Miller had a bad reaction with my body the next morning but I survived.
Sunday found me on my early flight back. I wore my colours all through the airport and it is probably why I got the extra pat down by security. What do I care anyways? The gentleman running security happened to spend quite a bit of time in Brasil. So we ended up having a conversation about football, while I was being searched for whatever contraband that I was suspiciously carrying.
By the time I had landed, ACMilan had called wondering when I was going to make it down. I had no proper clue but knew I couldn't miss the beginning. MancScum, they were going to be undone.
I had dropped off my bag and grabbed my bass, as I had band practice due to some odd scheduling, which would see me miss the second half. I don't know when I had ever missed a second half, at least not a good time.
This was definitely not a good time. The Arsenal suffered a breakdown in the back which left them wanting. We had let the MancScum go up on us and it was going to be a hard climb. I couldn't believe it.
At the half I had to go to practice, dejected and saddened by the lackluster display of my club, I took the trip with my score notifier dinging off. Band practice must have taken some clues from the Arsenal that day, as it was way off the mark.
I packed up and headed back down to rejoin ACMilan, MiniMourhino and ChelskiGirl. I had to get some food inside me and enjoyed a fresh pint of Magners. A few Magners later and all the bad things that happened earlier in the day were gone.
My mates are tried and true. Cheers! Slainte! Salut!
~LeChat
After passing my car, he gives me a dirty look and calls out, "Asshole."
I smiled and nodded so that it was really noticeable. Seriously dude, tell me something that I don't know. Do you really think calling me an asshole is going to affect me in any way? Seriously?
Ok, it gave me a good laugh, I know I am an asshole. I mean I played as a forward/striker for the last 20 years. I only know one thing to do, be an asshole. Self absorbed, moody, blame everyone else for their mistakes cause none of it can be my own fault... need I continue?
Well this weekend was a bit of an interesting one for me. I found myself out in the middling state of Wisconsin, hanging out with a friend of mine. We ended up in a place called McBob's to get a gander at the Fulham-Villa match.
It was a good deal for being out of the element. We also ended up doing the Miller brewery tour. Now those who know, are aware I do have a bad reaction to certain mass produced American brews. However, one can not resist a brewery tour, even if it is Miller time.
I will admit the samples that were given at the end of the tour were about the size of half pints. I also believe the next morning, the Miller had a bad reaction with my body the next morning but I survived.
Sunday found me on my early flight back. I wore my colours all through the airport and it is probably why I got the extra pat down by security. What do I care anyways? The gentleman running security happened to spend quite a bit of time in Brasil. So we ended up having a conversation about football, while I was being searched for whatever contraband that I was suspiciously carrying.
By the time I had landed, ACMilan had called wondering when I was going to make it down. I had no proper clue but knew I couldn't miss the beginning. MancScum, they were going to be undone.
I had dropped off my bag and grabbed my bass, as I had band practice due to some odd scheduling, which would see me miss the second half. I don't know when I had ever missed a second half, at least not a good time.
This was definitely not a good time. The Arsenal suffered a breakdown in the back which left them wanting. We had let the MancScum go up on us and it was going to be a hard climb. I couldn't believe it.
At the half I had to go to practice, dejected and saddened by the lackluster display of my club, I took the trip with my score notifier dinging off. Band practice must have taken some clues from the Arsenal that day, as it was way off the mark.
I packed up and headed back down to rejoin ACMilan, MiniMourhino and ChelskiGirl. I had to get some food inside me and enjoyed a fresh pint of Magners. A few Magners later and all the bad things that happened earlier in the day were gone.
My mates are tried and true. Cheers! Slainte! Salut!
~LeChat
28 January 2010
Villa Away Mid-week
SAD SAD SAD day it shall be. I am not one to complain but so much, so I won't. Where was I? I was sitting at my desk, at work, being annoyed by an annoying person who doesn't understand the meaning of the words/phrases: patience, free service and no guarantee. Yes, I do have issues with self-entitled stupidity.
Another mid-week and I was stuck working. I should be used to that by now, you'd think. I also forgot to turn on the score notifier application on my phone. Yes, that's right, I was so annoyed I forgot that an important game of football was being played. Right now all games for the Arsenal are important. As it looks now, I might even be missing the match on Sunday, at least the second half of it, which is probably when all the action will be. DAMN my cluttered schedule!
Let me tell you how out of touch with football I was. A Certain Scouser had sent me a couple texts but my mobile was not vibrating enough for me to notice. In order they read.
I will admit, yes I will admit. I totally forgot Mancscum and ManShitty were playing for the Carling. I was dumbfounded after reading the series of messages. It was only the last one.
That clued me into what I was missing. Then I was still trying to cobble together that proper Scum was not playing or were they, can't keep up with them and that the Scousers were not playing MancScum. I kid you not, it took me a whole 5 minutes to put it all together. My mind is complete mush.
When I finally made it home and got a good look at the Guardian, I realized that calling out sick may have been a good option. I am saving those up for world cup though. I might have to pull a couple extra hours at the office for that.
The Crow caught me on FB with an inquiry over the RIOoooOOoo issue. I'll just put it out there, so there is no misunderstanding. The man was good, probably one of the better Centerbacks for England in a long long time. Trust me, he gave the Arsenal some headaches as well. However, since this last set of injuries he hasn't been the same. Honestly, will he return to the England squad, maybe, but will he be the same man he was 4 years ago or even 2 years ago. Nah, not at all I am afraid. I think the star has faded on this one, supernova and out, in my opinion.
Does the penalty and ban surprise me? Not at all on that account either. Rio is a great player. A great player has a fire in them to keep playing, it's their life's blood. He is probably more than frustrated that he's half the player that he used to be and unfortunately has taken it out on a colleague. It happens.
OH and the Bellamy incident. I actually feel a bit bad for him, cause it must have hurt but part of me giggled seeing the photo of him laid on the ground. I never wish harm on anyone but sometimes it is funny. Seriously though, people need to stop throwing crap and trying to hurt the players. If you want a bit of the violence go join a firm and knock the shit out of like minded individuals. That's your thing, don't invite the uninitiated into it, don't invite the players into it.
PLAIN AND FUCKING SIMPLE, NO?
I mean if you are in a bar/pub, where ever and player x comes up to you and tries and make you change the television/radio station/jukebox, grabs on your girl, knocks over your drink and/or various other obnoxious things that players have been known to do... Then by all means give him one or two, he deserves it but not while they are on the field, playing the game. That's just crass. I don't care where you are from and I'm glad that someone is facing charges for it.
If you haven't checked out CNN lately, they do have a good section on football and the world cup, some interesting stuff but a lot of fluff as well. Good old CNN, proper journalism for the world. (yes that is written sarcasm)
Also, you all who comment on FB can feel free to comment here, as I know there are some who are reading this that I am not friends with on FB and I am sure they would love to enjoy the witty convos that we all have. Try and use your nick, if you do comment unless you don't want to protect your identity. I don't care, just don't blame me when your boss googles your ass.
Well I am off the grid this weekend. Enjoy yourselves.
~LeChat
Another mid-week and I was stuck working. I should be used to that by now, you'd think. I also forgot to turn on the score notifier application on my phone. Yes, that's right, I was so annoyed I forgot that an important game of football was being played. Right now all games for the Arsenal are important. As it looks now, I might even be missing the match on Sunday, at least the second half of it, which is probably when all the action will be. DAMN my cluttered schedule!
Let me tell you how out of touch with football I was. A Certain Scouser had sent me a couple texts but my mobile was not vibrating enough for me to notice. In order they read.
-Fucking Red Devil scum
-TEVEZ!
-Holy shit. rooney fuuuuuuuck
I will admit, yes I will admit. I totally forgot Mancscum and ManShitty were playing for the Carling. I was dumbfounded after reading the series of messages. It was only the last one.
Scum in the 91st
That clued me into what I was missing. Then I was still trying to cobble together that proper Scum was not playing or were they, can't keep up with them and that the Scousers were not playing MancScum. I kid you not, it took me a whole 5 minutes to put it all together. My mind is complete mush.
When I finally made it home and got a good look at the Guardian, I realized that calling out sick may have been a good option. I am saving those up for world cup though. I might have to pull a couple extra hours at the office for that.
The Crow caught me on FB with an inquiry over the RIOoooOOoo issue. I'll just put it out there, so there is no misunderstanding. The man was good, probably one of the better Centerbacks for England in a long long time. Trust me, he gave the Arsenal some headaches as well. However, since this last set of injuries he hasn't been the same. Honestly, will he return to the England squad, maybe, but will he be the same man he was 4 years ago or even 2 years ago. Nah, not at all I am afraid. I think the star has faded on this one, supernova and out, in my opinion.
Does the penalty and ban surprise me? Not at all on that account either. Rio is a great player. A great player has a fire in them to keep playing, it's their life's blood. He is probably more than frustrated that he's half the player that he used to be and unfortunately has taken it out on a colleague. It happens.
OH and the Bellamy incident. I actually feel a bit bad for him, cause it must have hurt but part of me giggled seeing the photo of him laid on the ground. I never wish harm on anyone but sometimes it is funny. Seriously though, people need to stop throwing crap and trying to hurt the players. If you want a bit of the violence go join a firm and knock the shit out of like minded individuals. That's your thing, don't invite the uninitiated into it, don't invite the players into it.
PLAIN AND FUCKING SIMPLE, NO?
I mean if you are in a bar/pub, where ever and player x comes up to you and tries and make you change the television/radio station/jukebox, grabs on your girl, knocks over your drink and/or various other obnoxious things that players have been known to do... Then by all means give him one or two, he deserves it but not while they are on the field, playing the game. That's just crass. I don't care where you are from and I'm glad that someone is facing charges for it.
If you haven't checked out CNN lately, they do have a good section on football and the world cup, some interesting stuff but a lot of fluff as well. Good old CNN, proper journalism for the world. (yes that is written sarcasm)
Also, you all who comment on FB can feel free to comment here, as I know there are some who are reading this that I am not friends with on FB and I am sure they would love to enjoy the witty convos that we all have. Try and use your nick, if you do comment unless you don't want to protect your identity. I don't care, just don't blame me when your boss googles your ass.
Well I am off the grid this weekend. Enjoy yourselves.
~LeChat
28 December 2009
Villa at Home (and other holiday stuff.. so it is long)
Alright, here we go. I was debating on whether I should start this from mid-week or not. I decided, probably against my better intuition, why not... funny things did happen. So grab a cup of tea and some warm slippers.
Christmas Eve-Eve
The night prior my old indoor friends were looking for people to fill in for their match at local indoor arena. I had nothing better to do so figured I would make an appearance and run around a bit. I jotted out a quick, "I'll be there," and that was done.
After work, I decided it would be best for me not to travel all the way to the homestead and go have some food and drinks at one of the fine establishments between the arena and work. I made some calls and met up with ChelskiGirl for a couple. She was filling me in on her trip, since I hadn't heard anything from her since she had returned.
Somewhere along the second cocktail or so, a bright idea came across to go see this Polish Christmas Carole Parade. We met up with a couple of her friends and ended up amongst a mob of Polish/Semi-Polish or whatever. There was a truck pulling a guy with an accordian, a drummer with a full drum set and a couple of horn players.
I mean it had to have been well over 100 people all massed on Broadway singing Jingle Bells. When we got up there with the santa hat wearing friends, it was just in time for the critical mass to begin its movement.
Things to note: Christmas Eve Eve was bloody cold, well bloody cold to be walking around and caroling. I just wanted a beer. Apparently, there are other people who really like this sort of thing. Correction: A shit ton of people who like said thing.
That's me hiding my face with one of the Santa Hat wearing friends.
Well after following the procession around for five more minutes, ChelskiGirl and I ducked out to her other place of employment to imbibe in some Chocolate Stouts. It was just the thing needed for a cold winter night.
My infinite wisdom, having about 3 of these Stouts, was in a mood to go play some football. I was tip top as they say. I make it to the arena and play had already started. I changed into the old uniform, felt good, made my way to the floor and hopped on as a sub. Less than 1 minute on, the other team wanted me to change, for kit clashing. The ref was even a little confused and whispered a comment as such.
Being the uniformly anal person I am about my kits, I put on the other black one, without the white fade and all was good. There's not much to mention of the game. I stumbled around for a bit, shoved a couple of people but didn't gain any cards.
I was having a good time though, so I hope I can fill in some other time. My ankle didn't even bother me, which is always double plus good. Now if I could only get the defense to pump the ball forward to me, then maybe I could have one of my little cheeky goals that I like.
On the way home, in my mind... I started calling randomly selected people from my phone. I still don't know why. A Certain Scouser was the unlucky one who answered. We talked for a bit, apparently she was in Buffalo robbing houses or something. That's all I can really remember her saying and something about not driving crazy, still unsure on that last part.
Actual Christmas Eve
The day started out nice. I was surprised that my ankle wasn't giving it to me, which had me overjoyed. That evening, some of us were getting together for a Christmas Eve dinner. I was bringing the eggnog or so it had been decided over Chocolate Stouts the night before or somewhere along the line.
I will point out two cool things, besides giving ChelskiGirl her BFF mug, which was more embarrassing to buy than anything else. A big giant pink mug for my BFF, I know the girl at the register was thinking I had some issues. Well I did get this great Madness tea towel. I need to figure out where to put it, but that's the first cool thing.
Second cool thing was Birmingwho coming in late, a bit well for the wear. He offered some vodka that he had but there was less than a quarter of the bottle left. He was in rare form and kept saying "Arsenal are going to lose to Villa, you know that right." He must have repeated it like 5 times before knocking over several glasses of water and then passing out on the couch.
Christmas Day
Two words: BRUGAL RUM!
My Real (facist) loving cousin's wife had me in the family Christmas exchange. We cracked it open and had cuba libre's all afternoon. Beauty, eh?
Boxing Day!!! (St. Stephen's Day)
This has seriously become my favorite holiday, especially over the most recent years since you can get so many games on the satellite now. It's footballing heaven. Well, the Arsenal weren't playing til Sunday, due to whatever genius who created the schedule. However, the day did hold some nice points dropping surprises and a Scouser win. You don't see too many of those lately.
I just realized my speakers have gone to shit on my desktop. It took an Untouchables song to realize it. Hmm, surround sound here I come.
Boxing day had a weird non-influx of people. HalfArseDean pointed it out but I hadn't noticed. It was a significantly smaller crowd than in the past. Maybe the weather, maybe people traveling cause of the weekend being long but it still had an energy about it in my opinion.
I LOVE BOXING DAY!
St. John the Apostle's Day (otherwise known as the day after Boxing Day)
Did I ever tell you I love the Saint's calendar? It's a very interesting hodge podge of people who have been beatified. Now don't think I'm some over zealous religious nut but I do find the subject interesting to say the least. I blame it on Art History, you can't escape the subject.
The Arsenal were playing early, so as normal I did not go out late the night before. I make it into the pub to be greeted by an overly jovial GrumpyGooner. Well with a very loud, "Yah fahkin Cunt!"
His excuse is that he had been up all night, enjoying the life and got zero sleep. I do feel bad that his girl had to wake him up and drag his big ass down to the pub. GrumpyGooner was in rare form, even tried picking a fight with a 4 year old, who probably could have taken him in his state. The 4 year old was non-plussed to say the least. His mum is a Gooner, so she made sure GrumpyGooner didn't get the bottle to the head.
Well the pub Gooners are starting to have some injury woes as well, LilBlondieGooner broke her clavicle or something. She's in a brace, but seriously, don't help her cut her French Toast. She was about to stab NightCaller.
HalfArseDean wound her up a little bit as well. I thought she was going to have him. I thought they gave you pain medication to sedate you. I mean she's small and all, would figure she'd be half knocked out.
Bayern gave me a nice shirt. I felt kind of bad, cause as usual I was present-less. I just wanted to give a big hearty thanks mate and seriously...
I am going to give it to Hull, making them bastards work for their points. I just wanted them to drop two. I hadn't counted on a Hull win but it would have been nice. It would have been nice. It would have been nice. MancScum!
Oh and for those that read this and like American Football.
FUCK PITTSBURGH! FUCKING SCUM!
MONDAY (Sorry I am not looking up the Saint)
OK, I know it's not the day after but this is comedy gold, and I quote, The Guardian of course,...
DUDE, you beat Wolves! Calm down. Calm Down.
Ciao
~LeChat
Christmas Eve-Eve
The night prior my old indoor friends were looking for people to fill in for their match at local indoor arena. I had nothing better to do so figured I would make an appearance and run around a bit. I jotted out a quick, "I'll be there," and that was done.
After work, I decided it would be best for me not to travel all the way to the homestead and go have some food and drinks at one of the fine establishments between the arena and work. I made some calls and met up with ChelskiGirl for a couple. She was filling me in on her trip, since I hadn't heard anything from her since she had returned.
Somewhere along the second cocktail or so, a bright idea came across to go see this Polish Christmas Carole Parade. We met up with a couple of her friends and ended up amongst a mob of Polish/Semi-Polish or whatever. There was a truck pulling a guy with an accordian, a drummer with a full drum set and a couple of horn players.
I mean it had to have been well over 100 people all massed on Broadway singing Jingle Bells. When we got up there with the santa hat wearing friends, it was just in time for the critical mass to begin its movement.
Things to note: Christmas Eve Eve was bloody cold, well bloody cold to be walking around and caroling. I just wanted a beer. Apparently, there are other people who really like this sort of thing. Correction: A shit ton of people who like said thing.
That's me hiding my face with one of the Santa Hat wearing friends.Well after following the procession around for five more minutes, ChelskiGirl and I ducked out to her other place of employment to imbibe in some Chocolate Stouts. It was just the thing needed for a cold winter night.
My infinite wisdom, having about 3 of these Stouts, was in a mood to go play some football. I was tip top as they say. I make it to the arena and play had already started. I changed into the old uniform, felt good, made my way to the floor and hopped on as a sub. Less than 1 minute on, the other team wanted me to change, for kit clashing. The ref was even a little confused and whispered a comment as such.
Being the uniformly anal person I am about my kits, I put on the other black one, without the white fade and all was good. There's not much to mention of the game. I stumbled around for a bit, shoved a couple of people but didn't gain any cards.
I was having a good time though, so I hope I can fill in some other time. My ankle didn't even bother me, which is always double plus good. Now if I could only get the defense to pump the ball forward to me, then maybe I could have one of my little cheeky goals that I like.
On the way home, in my mind... I started calling randomly selected people from my phone. I still don't know why. A Certain Scouser was the unlucky one who answered. We talked for a bit, apparently she was in Buffalo robbing houses or something. That's all I can really remember her saying and something about not driving crazy, still unsure on that last part.
Actual Christmas Eve
The day started out nice. I was surprised that my ankle wasn't giving it to me, which had me overjoyed. That evening, some of us were getting together for a Christmas Eve dinner. I was bringing the eggnog or so it had been decided over Chocolate Stouts the night before or somewhere along the line.
I will point out two cool things, besides giving ChelskiGirl her BFF mug, which was more embarrassing to buy than anything else. A big giant pink mug for my BFF, I know the girl at the register was thinking I had some issues. Well I did get this great Madness tea towel. I need to figure out where to put it, but that's the first cool thing.
Second cool thing was Birmingwho coming in late, a bit well for the wear. He offered some vodka that he had but there was less than a quarter of the bottle left. He was in rare form and kept saying "Arsenal are going to lose to Villa, you know that right." He must have repeated it like 5 times before knocking over several glasses of water and then passing out on the couch.
Christmas Day
Two words: BRUGAL RUM!
My Real (facist) loving cousin's wife had me in the family Christmas exchange. We cracked it open and had cuba libre's all afternoon. Beauty, eh?
Boxing Day!!! (St. Stephen's Day)
This has seriously become my favorite holiday, especially over the most recent years since you can get so many games on the satellite now. It's footballing heaven. Well, the Arsenal weren't playing til Sunday, due to whatever genius who created the schedule. However, the day did hold some nice points dropping surprises and a Scouser win. You don't see too many of those lately.
I just realized my speakers have gone to shit on my desktop. It took an Untouchables song to realize it. Hmm, surround sound here I come.
Boxing day had a weird non-influx of people. HalfArseDean pointed it out but I hadn't noticed. It was a significantly smaller crowd than in the past. Maybe the weather, maybe people traveling cause of the weekend being long but it still had an energy about it in my opinion.
I LOVE BOXING DAY!
St. John the Apostle's Day (otherwise known as the day after Boxing Day)
Did I ever tell you I love the Saint's calendar? It's a very interesting hodge podge of people who have been beatified. Now don't think I'm some over zealous religious nut but I do find the subject interesting to say the least. I blame it on Art History, you can't escape the subject.
The Arsenal were playing early, so as normal I did not go out late the night before. I make it into the pub to be greeted by an overly jovial GrumpyGooner. Well with a very loud, "Yah fahkin Cunt!"
His excuse is that he had been up all night, enjoying the life and got zero sleep. I do feel bad that his girl had to wake him up and drag his big ass down to the pub. GrumpyGooner was in rare form, even tried picking a fight with a 4 year old, who probably could have taken him in his state. The 4 year old was non-plussed to say the least. His mum is a Gooner, so she made sure GrumpyGooner didn't get the bottle to the head.
Well the pub Gooners are starting to have some injury woes as well, LilBlondieGooner broke her clavicle or something. She's in a brace, but seriously, don't help her cut her French Toast. She was about to stab NightCaller.
HalfArseDean wound her up a little bit as well. I thought she was going to have him. I thought they gave you pain medication to sedate you. I mean she's small and all, would figure she'd be half knocked out.
Bayern gave me a nice shirt. I felt kind of bad, cause as usual I was present-less. I just wanted to give a big hearty thanks mate and seriously...
Who the Fuck Are MAN UNITED?
I am going to give it to Hull, making them bastards work for their points. I just wanted them to drop two. I hadn't counted on a Hull win but it would have been nice. It would have been nice. It would have been nice. MancScum!
Oh and for those that read this and like American Football.
FUCK PITTSBURGH! FUCKING SCUM!
MONDAY (Sorry I am not looking up the Saint)
OK, I know it's not the day after but this is comedy gold, and I quote, The Guardian of course,...
Roberto Mancini, the new Manchester City manager, predicted his side could catch Chelsea at the top of the Premier League after their 3-0 defeat of Wolverhampton Wanderers maintained his immaculate start as Mark Hughes's replacement.
DUDE, you beat Wolves! Calm down. Calm Down.
Ciao
~LeChat
17 December 2009
Burnley Away
DRAW!
Yes I should pull out all my guns on this one. However, as usual, I was working, so I only saw replays. It is not like it matters much, because, from what I understand it was nothing.
I actually enjoy my job. So I really don't mind that I miss these mid-week fixtures at times. The one thing I can say is that my work is never boring. Most of my days, in general, end up in draws.
The crux of my employment is connecting low income people with pro-bono attorneys. While on the surface it doesn't sound hard but it is one of those things you have to experience.
Some of the folks that call in are pretty normal and just ran into a spot of bad luck, like losing to Sunderland. On paper, you should walk all over life but reality is, you dropped the points. You dropped points at the most inopportune time, for whatever reason.
You might blame it on the economy and not having enough to spend. You might blame it on not having the right tools to compete. In the end, it doesn't really matter because now you are in the situation that you are in and it's time to fix it.
Now the normal ones will say, "Hey, I just need a little help. I can get back in the game," or "If I can just get past this," or something along those lines. Those are the people that realize that most of their situation is combination of this bad luck, improper planning or simply being unrealistic and coming to terms with what needs to be done.
So, if that is normal, by my definition, then there must be a non-normal, or as I like to say KORAZIE. Fine, you got me, I've never said anything like that in my life before.
Now crazy comes in all kinds of flavors, just to keep it interesting. I wish I could break it down into digestible slices but at this time I don't think it's possible, but here are a few examples.
Tim "Fucking" Howard - Now Tim is not really crazy, on his own accord but he does suffer from Tourette's or so it's said. This means sometimes he has this little tick thing going on that he can't control. Now Tim Howard crazy is mild, not really his fault, just happens that way. This I feel for because there's not much you can do but deal with it in your own way. Plus, Tim Howard is still great because he knows what's going on and is working with it.
Jens "Mad German" Lehmann - Unpredictable crazy. Poor Jens, you never know what he's going to do next. First he's world class, the kind of bloke you would love to have a beer with, then... he's totally lost the plot, punching people in the face, swearing like an Austrian, drop kicking like an Angry Samoan. This is the kind of crazy I am terrified of because you never know when it's going to kick off.
Sepp Blatter - This is sort of an "out of touch" with reality crazy. Do I really need to explain this one? I mean the man just doesn't have a bloody clue. Typical politican. Another example of this would be Harry Rednapp, who insists that Scum will be a top 4 club. Crazy innit.
Arsene Wenger - I love Arsene. He's one of the best managers around, but you know sometimes, just sometimes, his paranoia even gets to me. I like talking to this type of crazy when they call into my work. As long as you aren't the one who is the "cause" of their issues, they can bring some interesting insights to what is usually just routine to every one else. I welcome this crazy.
The Whole of WALES - Yah, you're not really a real country. Pure delusional, sorry, it's not going to happen, just deal with it and speaking in foreign tongues does you no service. That's like hanging out with Tolkein elves at Ren-fest, just deluded. No one wants to understand you anyways.
Beckham - Another type of delusional. Constantly told he's great and a superstar but when reality comes knocking, he hasn't produced in quite some time. When he does produce, then maybe we can call him great, but until that time, you're not really that good or as good as you used to be. Get used to it.
The list, as I said, can go on and on. I didn't even approach the whole Bellamy thing. However, like I said, just a sampling of the types of crazy I have to deal with on a regular basis.
Anyways, here is to hoping that the wintry mix doesn't ruin a footballers weekend.
~LeChat
Yes I should pull out all my guns on this one. However, as usual, I was working, so I only saw replays. It is not like it matters much, because, from what I understand it was nothing.
I actually enjoy my job. So I really don't mind that I miss these mid-week fixtures at times. The one thing I can say is that my work is never boring. Most of my days, in general, end up in draws.
The crux of my employment is connecting low income people with pro-bono attorneys. While on the surface it doesn't sound hard but it is one of those things you have to experience.
Some of the folks that call in are pretty normal and just ran into a spot of bad luck, like losing to Sunderland. On paper, you should walk all over life but reality is, you dropped the points. You dropped points at the most inopportune time, for whatever reason.
You might blame it on the economy and not having enough to spend. You might blame it on not having the right tools to compete. In the end, it doesn't really matter because now you are in the situation that you are in and it's time to fix it.
Now the normal ones will say, "Hey, I just need a little help. I can get back in the game," or "If I can just get past this," or something along those lines. Those are the people that realize that most of their situation is combination of this bad luck, improper planning or simply being unrealistic and coming to terms with what needs to be done.
So, if that is normal, by my definition, then there must be a non-normal, or as I like to say KORAZIE. Fine, you got me, I've never said anything like that in my life before.
Now crazy comes in all kinds of flavors, just to keep it interesting. I wish I could break it down into digestible slices but at this time I don't think it's possible, but here are a few examples.
Tim "Fucking" Howard - Now Tim is not really crazy, on his own accord but he does suffer from Tourette's or so it's said. This means sometimes he has this little tick thing going on that he can't control. Now Tim Howard crazy is mild, not really his fault, just happens that way. This I feel for because there's not much you can do but deal with it in your own way. Plus, Tim Howard is still great because he knows what's going on and is working with it.
Jens "Mad German" Lehmann - Unpredictable crazy. Poor Jens, you never know what he's going to do next. First he's world class, the kind of bloke you would love to have a beer with, then... he's totally lost the plot, punching people in the face, swearing like an Austrian, drop kicking like an Angry Samoan. This is the kind of crazy I am terrified of because you never know when it's going to kick off.
Sepp Blatter - This is sort of an "out of touch" with reality crazy. Do I really need to explain this one? I mean the man just doesn't have a bloody clue. Typical politican. Another example of this would be Harry Rednapp, who insists that Scum will be a top 4 club. Crazy innit.
Arsene Wenger - I love Arsene. He's one of the best managers around, but you know sometimes, just sometimes, his paranoia even gets to me. I like talking to this type of crazy when they call into my work. As long as you aren't the one who is the "cause" of their issues, they can bring some interesting insights to what is usually just routine to every one else. I welcome this crazy.
The Whole of WALES - Yah, you're not really a real country. Pure delusional, sorry, it's not going to happen, just deal with it and speaking in foreign tongues does you no service. That's like hanging out with Tolkein elves at Ren-fest, just deluded. No one wants to understand you anyways.
Beckham - Another type of delusional. Constantly told he's great and a superstar but when reality comes knocking, he hasn't produced in quite some time. When he does produce, then maybe we can call him great, but until that time, you're not really that good or as good as you used to be. Get used to it.
The list, as I said, can go on and on. I didn't even approach the whole Bellamy thing. However, like I said, just a sampling of the types of crazy I have to deal with on a regular basis.
Anyways, here is to hoping that the wintry mix doesn't ruin a footballers weekend.
~LeChat
19 November 2009
Allez Les Bleus! - Midweek WC2010 qualifier
Well, where to begin? Where to begin?
As many of you already know, there was a sleight of hand that allowed Les Bleus to go through. There are arguments about how the game should be replayed, about how Henry has tainted his soul and the such. I think what everyone is truly forgetting here, being a voice of reason, is that it is FOOTBALL!
We know this game. We love this game. We hate this game. We take this game out for dinner, grope it in the backseat and do that thing we are not suppose to do, then profess we didn't mean to do it this time and later that evening tell it about how sexy it's younger sister is in that mini-skirt she wore at Christmas last year.
See that is what the handball is, telling the love of your life how hot the younger sister is in the mini-skirt. Yes it may be true but no you really shouldn't say things like that. Sometimes you get lucky and end up in a threesome, however most of the time it is a right cross to the jaw and being very lonely.
Let me spell it out for the Scum...
You win some. You lose some. Either way, you're still a sneaky bastard.
In some quarters, you may be seen as clever, but that's only if you win. In others, well, I am sure there are some who can come up with better words than I can at the moment. For France, Henry was clever. For Ireland, he's a cheating sneaky bastard.
I could use this on other players, in other situations but what's the point? There is none. WHY? Because it's fucking football, a fucking beautiful game played by artist, judged by those who have a passion for the art.
Wait, I lie.
I will make another reference, one that the Sheriff might appreciate. A young big eared Scouse bastard who looks like Shrek will be our villain or hero, however you want to put it. On the other end, there is this beautiful team in Red and White who have gone unbeaten for several games, hell they may have even broken a few long standing records.
Now our hero/villain decides to take a run into the box. The big eared man is not known for taking advantage of the rules, being English and all that. Now during his run the Shrek-like lummox decides to go against his usual nature (chuckle) and takes a spill. The man in black points to the spot and the beautiful team in Red and White has given up a penalty. This penalty basically ends the longest unbeaten streak by the team in Red and White.
HOWEVER, no one will put our hero in stocks for this, and the fucking scum does it again a couple seasons later and again to another team and again and again. He is lauded by his followers as a hero and by supporters of the beautiful team in Red and White as a sneaky fucking bastard.
Fuck Rooney!
So, I do not blame the Irish for saying, "Fuck Henry!", as I know they will. I can only shrug at that, because it could have easily gone the other way and I'd be saying, "Fuck Keane!", actually I say that all the time cause he is a sneaky little bastard who couldn't cut it at Liverpool.
The reality is, I actually missed the whole thing.
I do want to take a moment and thank all my comrades for sending me updates while I was trying to save people from their legal messes. Good looking out!
I headed down to the pub right after work. I found it to be one of the longest drives that I have ever endured. I parked and metered my car, of course my card wasn't working in the stupid pass machine, so I grabbed some assorted coins and dropped them in, not paying too much attention to how much time I really had. I ran down the street, into the pub and bounded up the steps, knowing the scoreline was 1-1(2-1 agg). I got a ticket, later in the evening.
Some of the Irish supporters that were familiar with me either gave me a solemn nod or a glare followed by something along the lines of cheating bastards. ChelskiGirl and Irish both gave me shit for about 10 seconds and all I could do was shrug and say "I didn't see a thing."
I braved the mass of angry green and found myself in the French Quarter. A very different mood all together. I kept my head low, but had a big grin on my face as I watched the clock keep on ticking. I was really hoping Les Bleus would put in another, just so the one goal would be a mere footnote but to no avail.
Peep. Peep. Peep. It's all over in Paris.
The rest of the evening was spent imbiding Carlsbergs with Vinny, MiniMourhino and the eventual arrival of Sheffield. We kept it going for some time and finally I was able to see the play. Yes about 2 hours after the game was over.
I can say this. Yes, it was a handball.
~LeChat
As many of you already know, there was a sleight of hand that allowed Les Bleus to go through. There are arguments about how the game should be replayed, about how Henry has tainted his soul and the such. I think what everyone is truly forgetting here, being a voice of reason, is that it is FOOTBALL!
We know this game. We love this game. We hate this game. We take this game out for dinner, grope it in the backseat and do that thing we are not suppose to do, then profess we didn't mean to do it this time and later that evening tell it about how sexy it's younger sister is in that mini-skirt she wore at Christmas last year.
See that is what the handball is, telling the love of your life how hot the younger sister is in the mini-skirt. Yes it may be true but no you really shouldn't say things like that. Sometimes you get lucky and end up in a threesome, however most of the time it is a right cross to the jaw and being very lonely.
Let me spell it out for the Scum...
You win some. You lose some. Either way, you're still a sneaky bastard.
In some quarters, you may be seen as clever, but that's only if you win. In others, well, I am sure there are some who can come up with better words than I can at the moment. For France, Henry was clever. For Ireland, he's a cheating sneaky bastard.
I could use this on other players, in other situations but what's the point? There is none. WHY? Because it's fucking football, a fucking beautiful game played by artist, judged by those who have a passion for the art.
Wait, I lie.
I will make another reference, one that the Sheriff might appreciate. A young big eared Scouse bastard who looks like Shrek will be our villain or hero, however you want to put it. On the other end, there is this beautiful team in Red and White who have gone unbeaten for several games, hell they may have even broken a few long standing records.
Now our hero/villain decides to take a run into the box. The big eared man is not known for taking advantage of the rules, being English and all that. Now during his run the Shrek-like lummox decides to go against his usual nature (chuckle) and takes a spill. The man in black points to the spot and the beautiful team in Red and White has given up a penalty. This penalty basically ends the longest unbeaten streak by the team in Red and White.
HOWEVER, no one will put our hero in stocks for this, and the fucking scum does it again a couple seasons later and again to another team and again and again. He is lauded by his followers as a hero and by supporters of the beautiful team in Red and White as a sneaky fucking bastard.
Fuck Rooney!
So, I do not blame the Irish for saying, "Fuck Henry!", as I know they will. I can only shrug at that, because it could have easily gone the other way and I'd be saying, "Fuck Keane!", actually I say that all the time cause he is a sneaky little bastard who couldn't cut it at Liverpool.
The reality is, I actually missed the whole thing.
I do want to take a moment and thank all my comrades for sending me updates while I was trying to save people from their legal messes. Good looking out!
I headed down to the pub right after work. I found it to be one of the longest drives that I have ever endured. I parked and metered my car, of course my card wasn't working in the stupid pass machine, so I grabbed some assorted coins and dropped them in, not paying too much attention to how much time I really had. I ran down the street, into the pub and bounded up the steps, knowing the scoreline was 1-1(2-1 agg). I got a ticket, later in the evening.
Some of the Irish supporters that were familiar with me either gave me a solemn nod or a glare followed by something along the lines of cheating bastards. ChelskiGirl and Irish both gave me shit for about 10 seconds and all I could do was shrug and say "I didn't see a thing."
I braved the mass of angry green and found myself in the French Quarter. A very different mood all together. I kept my head low, but had a big grin on my face as I watched the clock keep on ticking. I was really hoping Les Bleus would put in another, just so the one goal would be a mere footnote but to no avail.
Peep. Peep. Peep. It's all over in Paris.
The rest of the evening was spent imbiding Carlsbergs with Vinny, MiniMourhino and the eventual arrival of Sheffield. We kept it going for some time and finally I was able to see the play. Yes about 2 hours after the game was over.
I can say this. Yes, it was a handball.
~LeChat
04 November 2009
Midweek - AZ Alkmaar Home (CL)
I know I know I usually do this the day after but I'm working on doing this today instead. When I first started this blog, I had mentioned that I would be writing on the day of eventually. I don't want to say this is the start of that veiled promise because it really isn't.
Tuesday
Better known as the retaliation from ACMilan. I'll mention it again. ACMILAN is not a turncoat or traitor or Chelski in disguise. He loves ACMilan so much. ACMilan is ACMilan even when faced with a train full of Roma supporters. Ask him about it, great story.
Tuesday Evening
Tuesday is burger night at the barnextdoor, so I was in the mood for a bleu burger, a nice pint and to pop by the pub to say "Hello" to the locals. I decided to head over after work and had a nice smooth drive. I got a decent parking spot and argued with one of the local beggars, actually the one I went Warrior of God on and doesn't seem to remember what I told him about bothering me.
I casually stroll by the pub and the Chelski locals are stumbling out. T-Bone gave me his normal greeting and started rattling off some of the high points of the CL games. MiniMourhino and Klanksy follow out a moment later with a Chelski geezer who was over for some conference on trees and had stumbled upon the pub.
We all exchanged pleasentries and I popped in to speak with the staff, who for some reason a majority of their names start with the letter "B". It's kind of odd. I know that in itself is not real strange per se, but it is a strange little pattern. I remember having a discussion with 3 out of the 4 one night when they were all working as well. Some customer or something kept getting two of them mixed up, which after thinking about it for a few minutes, you could see it and it didn't help that their names both began with "B".
Pub conspiracy or someone has taken their hiring patterns from the way Wenger buys players. (That's a little joke for those that get it.)
I go back out to the cafe tables where the Chelski boys are holding court and start saying my farewells and glad to meet yas, when it happens. For some reason, there is this vortex around the Chelski boys that sucks you in. MiniMourhino insisted I have a beer with them. I shrugged and went back in and ordered one.
What was suppose to be one beer ended up being another and listening to that infernal One Man went to mow song like 30 times. The Chelski geezer was pretty interesting though. He had grown up during the 70's in the terraces. He and I did sing Tottenham went to see the pope, which was fun in itself.
One of the local beggars came over, a bit drunken and started talking to us. He had some Ravens song, which I think he made up on the spot. He had to leave after a while though. MiniMourhino wasn't having it with him and words were thrown back and forth. The last thing I remember the guy saying to Mini was something along the lines of, "the next time I see you, you better not make me mad."
Eventually, I found my way out of the Chelski vortex. Leaving them with my Arsenal FC song and stumbling up the steps to the barnextdoor. I still had not had my burger yet and my stomach was about to remind me of that.
It appears the power of the Arsenal is very strong in this one.
Wednesday
Well we know the outcome of this glorious side that has now trounced upon whatever that team is called again. The next stages should be fun for the boys in red and white. I do understand though that my Ligue 1 team, Lyon, has created some problems for the Scousers.
I spent the better part of the game at work. I know it's very exciting. However, today was probably one of the better days for getting a lot stuff done at work. I wish every Wednesday was like today.
Fantastic result - Decent day at work - Funny texts from friends
What more is there to ask for?
~LeChat
Tuesday
Better known as the retaliation from ACMilan. I'll mention it again. ACMILAN is not a turncoat or traitor or Chelski in disguise. He loves ACMilan so much. ACMilan is ACMilan even when faced with a train full of Roma supporters. Ask him about it, great story.
Tuesday Evening
Tuesday is burger night at the barnextdoor, so I was in the mood for a bleu burger, a nice pint and to pop by the pub to say "Hello" to the locals. I decided to head over after work and had a nice smooth drive. I got a decent parking spot and argued with one of the local beggars, actually the one I went Warrior of God on and doesn't seem to remember what I told him about bothering me.
I casually stroll by the pub and the Chelski locals are stumbling out. T-Bone gave me his normal greeting and started rattling off some of the high points of the CL games. MiniMourhino and Klanksy follow out a moment later with a Chelski geezer who was over for some conference on trees and had stumbled upon the pub.
We all exchanged pleasentries and I popped in to speak with the staff, who for some reason a majority of their names start with the letter "B". It's kind of odd. I know that in itself is not real strange per se, but it is a strange little pattern. I remember having a discussion with 3 out of the 4 one night when they were all working as well. Some customer or something kept getting two of them mixed up, which after thinking about it for a few minutes, you could see it and it didn't help that their names both began with "B".
Pub conspiracy or someone has taken their hiring patterns from the way Wenger buys players. (That's a little joke for those that get it.)
I go back out to the cafe tables where the Chelski boys are holding court and start saying my farewells and glad to meet yas, when it happens. For some reason, there is this vortex around the Chelski boys that sucks you in. MiniMourhino insisted I have a beer with them. I shrugged and went back in and ordered one.
What was suppose to be one beer ended up being another and listening to that infernal One Man went to mow song like 30 times. The Chelski geezer was pretty interesting though. He had grown up during the 70's in the terraces. He and I did sing Tottenham went to see the pope, which was fun in itself.
One of the local beggars came over, a bit drunken and started talking to us. He had some Ravens song, which I think he made up on the spot. He had to leave after a while though. MiniMourhino wasn't having it with him and words were thrown back and forth. The last thing I remember the guy saying to Mini was something along the lines of, "the next time I see you, you better not make me mad."
Eventually, I found my way out of the Chelski vortex. Leaving them with my Arsenal FC song and stumbling up the steps to the barnextdoor. I still had not had my burger yet and my stomach was about to remind me of that.
It appears the power of the Arsenal is very strong in this one.
Wednesday
Well we know the outcome of this glorious side that has now trounced upon whatever that team is called again. The next stages should be fun for the boys in red and white. I do understand though that my Ligue 1 team, Lyon, has created some problems for the Scousers.
I spent the better part of the game at work. I know it's very exciting. However, today was probably one of the better days for getting a lot stuff done at work. I wish every Wednesday was like today.
Fantastic result - Decent day at work - Funny texts from friends
What more is there to ask for?
~LeChat
21 October 2009
Midweek - Alakazaaam! AZ Alkmaar Away
Champions league mid-week group stages for me only mean one thing and one thing only... I will not and can not call out sick to enjoy a few pints at the pub. From what I understand though. This mid-week might have been one to enjoy at least for 92 minutes.
A Certain Scouser decided to give me a few updates, while I was deciding on whether or not a few clients actually qualified as low income or trying to pull one over on good ol' LeChat. The texts started off friendly enough. I mean what more can you ask for. Good friends sending you updates.
Oh, apparently, ChelskiGirl was sending text but I didn't get them because they went to my email. In an effort to save face, she blamed the I-Phone.
I'm looking at you! ChelskiGirl!
So, like Liverpool's chances at winning the league, A Certain Scouser's texts went from this nice friendly tone to garbled letters to rumblings of suicidal tendencies. I tried to give some reassurance but the Scousers were playing O'Lyon.
In order to keep some semblance of mental notes that I try to gather here and espouse onto my causal and not so casual readers, I must admit I am partial to Lyon in Ligue 1. However at the time, I did not realize who the Scousers were playing. My condolences were heart-felt though.
OL OL OL
Anyways, let me get away from Scousers for a moment. I do value my life and wallet and recently did get my car back from the mechanic. All wheels are currently attached and I still have my stereo.
Monday evening, I want to definitely give a shout out to Sheffield. Texting You Fill Up My Senses made for a better day than the one I was actually having. Cheers Mate!
OH! Interesting news. I don't know how many of you follow the Show Racism the Red Card campaign but it is one of the few movements out there that I actually give a care about. It seems that after the Rangers lost to whoever they were playing, there was some amount of racial abuse hurled towards Maurice Edu as he was getting into his car to go home.
Here you have a case of a player at his home ground receiving racial abuse from the knuckle dragging miscreants who consider themselves supporters of their club. Now I know I am not holier than thou or anything like that and I've said a few things myself but nothing of this kind of magnitude. Here's the article, if you care.
Oh and thanks to a good friend of mine for showing me this article as well. Not to change the subject but I'll just quote part of it from the IrishTimes.
And on that note. Au revoir.
~LeChat
A Certain Scouser decided to give me a few updates, while I was deciding on whether or not a few clients actually qualified as low income or trying to pull one over on good ol' LeChat. The texts started off friendly enough. I mean what more can you ask for. Good friends sending you updates.
Oh, apparently, ChelskiGirl was sending text but I didn't get them because they went to my email. In an effort to save face, she blamed the I-Phone.
I'm looking at you! ChelskiGirl!
So, like Liverpool's chances at winning the league, A Certain Scouser's texts went from this nice friendly tone to garbled letters to rumblings of suicidal tendencies. I tried to give some reassurance but the Scousers were playing O'Lyon.
In order to keep some semblance of mental notes that I try to gather here and espouse onto my causal and not so casual readers, I must admit I am partial to Lyon in Ligue 1. However at the time, I did not realize who the Scousers were playing. My condolences were heart-felt though.
OL OL OL
Anyways, let me get away from Scousers for a moment. I do value my life and wallet and recently did get my car back from the mechanic. All wheels are currently attached and I still have my stereo.
Monday evening, I want to definitely give a shout out to Sheffield. Texting You Fill Up My Senses made for a better day than the one I was actually having. Cheers Mate!
OH! Interesting news. I don't know how many of you follow the Show Racism the Red Card campaign but it is one of the few movements out there that I actually give a care about. It seems that after the Rangers lost to whoever they were playing, there was some amount of racial abuse hurled towards Maurice Edu as he was getting into his car to go home.
Here you have a case of a player at his home ground receiving racial abuse from the knuckle dragging miscreants who consider themselves supporters of their club. Now I know I am not holier than thou or anything like that and I've said a few things myself but nothing of this kind of magnitude. Here's the article, if you care.
Oh and thanks to a good friend of mine for showing me this article as well. Not to change the subject but I'll just quote part of it from the IrishTimes.
French soccer manager Raymond Domenech is public enemy number one in Ireland after dismissing the Irish soccer team as second-rated has-beens.
"They are the England Bs,” he told an Irish journalist with a Gallic shrug.
"There won’t be any surprises in the World Cup play-offs," he sniffed. "We know precisely what to expect.”
And on that note. Au revoir.
~LeChat
19 October 2009
BIRMINGHAM at HOME and WC2010 Playoff Draw
Where shall I begin?
This weeks blog, like my beautiful little Volkswagen, is having a hard time starting. I am sure that the finishing will be much better than what the Scousers had going on this weekend however.
(Apologies to all my Scouse friends, you may want to stop reading now.)
I believe there was some kind of benefit or get-together on Friday. I only picked up a smattering of what was going on from A Certain Scouser after I was a couple beers into a happy hour before band practice. Needless to say I was unable to attend. I do enjoy their little soirees.
However, I will admit. The beach ball party on Saturday morning was a lot more fun.
Alright, alright, I can feel the ice-picks being thrown across the intertubes now.
So I wasn't in a hurry to watch the first match. I really didn't care too much, either way. I slept in for a few and luckily my car decided to start. So far it was appearing to be a good day.
Making my way into the pub, I get stopped by some of the Chelski jokers about my blue colored jacket. It happens all the time. I quickly opened up and pointed to the cannon on my old school top and laughs were had. I was then told to not turn around and look at the screen.
With confusion on my face, I slowly peer over my shoulder and see it. Villa up and Chelski making very little impact. I smiled, yes only smiled and maybe chuckled a bit and waved myself on. I spoke to ChelskiGirl and Mini-Mourinho before heading down to the Arsenal end of the pub.
I am seriously just going to claim the whole back booth area. For some reason, all our games seem to be on at the same time as the Scousers. And with Irish being a Scouse loving Irishman, we know whose going to be on the main screen. No offense on that, like I've said before, hardest working man in the business. Plus the Scousers do have a rather large contingent, even on beach ball day.
LilBlondieGooner and her man were at the end of the bar. First thing that comes out of her mouth was something along the lines of 'You're late, I expected you to be here already.' Not much I could say, except I decided to sleep in and no one cares about Chelski playing Villa. I now stand corrected.
Also, apparently you can order fruit and toast. Yes, fruit and toast. Go figure.
Well I settle down in the back booths after making some Joe Cole comments and order up some breakfast. A little more substantial than fruit and toast. However this prompts LilBlondieGooner into calling me fat. So I am keeping that one in a little notebook. She will get hers. *insert evil laughter*
I have to admit, nothing too exciting happened. The Gunners showed up, a little sloppy to say the least. Someone started singing 99 Red Balloons after Sunderland scored against the Scousers. Well it was sung quite a few times but no one could get past the beginning of the song.
I did give consolations to my Scouse friends. It was really a dubious decision by the Ref, who by the way, is always a bastard. I was reading in the Guardian about how it should have been disallowed, which is what my immediate thought was.
I might be an annoying Gooner sometimes, but HEY, I do know what's fair and what some of the more obscure rules of the game, for the most part. It is nice to have some kind of confirmation of the fact without having to look it up in a rule book.
Anyways, it was a positive, albeit London weather like, Saturday for the pub and football, and most of all the Arsenal. Everyone dropping points, except for the bloody Scum. I still can't believe they are one point ahead of us.
Yah, Game in Hand, I know. Still Scum sit above The Arsenal in the table.
Sunday
My Sunday was suppose to be heading down to the pub to harass City and catch up with ACMilan. However, German engineering sought to derail my attempts at forming a resistance by staging an occupation of my back yard. Or the Scousers nicked my starter. Someone is plotting against me. So I spent most of the day figuring out that my battery was not the issue and that I would have to go to a real mechanic.
What do you Germans and Scousers have in common...
The English version. You know, whatever you do, don't mention the war.
OH I need to pass on this story, as well. ACMilan, which I must mention, calls me late in the day with a wonderful tale that needed to be witnessed. He sends me an MMS with himself posing with a bunch of guys from a reggae band. He calls it his good luck charm.
Apparently, when all hope was lost. These guys started setting up to perform at the pub that night. ACMilan asked if they could hold off for a bit while the game was finishing. They agreed and were messing around a bit. ACMilan said they started playing Three Little Birds, and Milan started playing like they were all a bunch of 20 year olds, coming back and winning their match against Roma.
He said the music just fit, everything was just working, clicking on all cylinders. Then he started singing, "Don't worry bout a thing, cause every little thing, is going to be alright." Which I will admit, hearing ACMilan singing Bob Marley, was a highlight on a rather dismal Sunday.
MONDAY - World Cup Playoff Draw
As many of you may or may not know, I do not get much time to access the intertubes from work. Today, during my lunch, half not thinking, I decide to have a look at the good old Guardian. The Guardian goes well with cheesesteak subs apparently.
My bookmark is actually on the football page. Top story just happened to be this one.
France will not intimidate Irish
Very interesting indeed. I was expecting the draw to go a little different. I did not expect to be drawn against the Irish. It's going to make for a very uncomfortable mid-November at the pub. My only consolation is knowing that the French games will be on the big screen. I hope that SlainteLOSC does decide to turn up. United we must stand in a sea of green.
I must point out that this still does not discredit my World Cup conspiracy theory. It just proves it, more or less. Ireland could actually be a contender but what would FIFA do if they actually took the thing? Seriously, if Ireland does get lucky and beat France, then at least they can say they beat one of the better teams out there and have proof that they are a serious contender. My guess is there is always wishful thinking or luck of the Irish. HA!
Allez les Bleus!
~LeChat
This weeks blog, like my beautiful little Volkswagen, is having a hard time starting. I am sure that the finishing will be much better than what the Scousers had going on this weekend however.
(Apologies to all my Scouse friends, you may want to stop reading now.)
I believe there was some kind of benefit or get-together on Friday. I only picked up a smattering of what was going on from A Certain Scouser after I was a couple beers into a happy hour before band practice. Needless to say I was unable to attend. I do enjoy their little soirees.
However, I will admit. The beach ball party on Saturday morning was a lot more fun.
Alright, alright, I can feel the ice-picks being thrown across the intertubes now.
So I wasn't in a hurry to watch the first match. I really didn't care too much, either way. I slept in for a few and luckily my car decided to start. So far it was appearing to be a good day.
Making my way into the pub, I get stopped by some of the Chelski jokers about my blue colored jacket. It happens all the time. I quickly opened up and pointed to the cannon on my old school top and laughs were had. I was then told to not turn around and look at the screen.
With confusion on my face, I slowly peer over my shoulder and see it. Villa up and Chelski making very little impact. I smiled, yes only smiled and maybe chuckled a bit and waved myself on. I spoke to ChelskiGirl and Mini-Mourinho before heading down to the Arsenal end of the pub.
I am seriously just going to claim the whole back booth area. For some reason, all our games seem to be on at the same time as the Scousers. And with Irish being a Scouse loving Irishman, we know whose going to be on the main screen. No offense on that, like I've said before, hardest working man in the business. Plus the Scousers do have a rather large contingent, even on beach ball day.
LilBlondieGooner and her man were at the end of the bar. First thing that comes out of her mouth was something along the lines of 'You're late, I expected you to be here already.' Not much I could say, except I decided to sleep in and no one cares about Chelski playing Villa. I now stand corrected.
Also, apparently you can order fruit and toast. Yes, fruit and toast. Go figure.
Well I settle down in the back booths after making some Joe Cole comments and order up some breakfast. A little more substantial than fruit and toast. However this prompts LilBlondieGooner into calling me fat. So I am keeping that one in a little notebook. She will get hers. *insert evil laughter*
I have to admit, nothing too exciting happened. The Gunners showed up, a little sloppy to say the least. Someone started singing 99 Red Balloons after Sunderland scored against the Scousers. Well it was sung quite a few times but no one could get past the beginning of the song.
I did give consolations to my Scouse friends. It was really a dubious decision by the Ref, who by the way, is always a bastard. I was reading in the Guardian about how it should have been disallowed, which is what my immediate thought was.
I might be an annoying Gooner sometimes, but HEY, I do know what's fair and what some of the more obscure rules of the game, for the most part. It is nice to have some kind of confirmation of the fact without having to look it up in a rule book.
Anyways, it was a positive, albeit London weather like, Saturday for the pub and football, and most of all the Arsenal. Everyone dropping points, except for the bloody Scum. I still can't believe they are one point ahead of us.
Yah, Game in Hand, I know. Still Scum sit above The Arsenal in the table.
Sunday
My Sunday was suppose to be heading down to the pub to harass City and catch up with ACMilan. However, German engineering sought to derail my attempts at forming a resistance by staging an occupation of my back yard. Or the Scousers nicked my starter. Someone is plotting against me. So I spent most of the day figuring out that my battery was not the issue and that I would have to go to a real mechanic.
What do you Germans and Scousers have in common...
The English version. You know, whatever you do, don't mention the war.
OH I need to pass on this story, as well. ACMilan, which I must mention, calls me late in the day with a wonderful tale that needed to be witnessed. He sends me an MMS with himself posing with a bunch of guys from a reggae band. He calls it his good luck charm.
Apparently, when all hope was lost. These guys started setting up to perform at the pub that night. ACMilan asked if they could hold off for a bit while the game was finishing. They agreed and were messing around a bit. ACMilan said they started playing Three Little Birds, and Milan started playing like they were all a bunch of 20 year olds, coming back and winning their match against Roma.
He said the music just fit, everything was just working, clicking on all cylinders. Then he started singing, "Don't worry bout a thing, cause every little thing, is going to be alright." Which I will admit, hearing ACMilan singing Bob Marley, was a highlight on a rather dismal Sunday.
MONDAY - World Cup Playoff Draw
As many of you may or may not know, I do not get much time to access the intertubes from work. Today, during my lunch, half not thinking, I decide to have a look at the good old Guardian. The Guardian goes well with cheesesteak subs apparently.
My bookmark is actually on the football page. Top story just happened to be this one.
France will not intimidate Irish
Very interesting indeed. I was expecting the draw to go a little different. I did not expect to be drawn against the Irish. It's going to make for a very uncomfortable mid-November at the pub. My only consolation is knowing that the French games will be on the big screen. I hope that SlainteLOSC does decide to turn up. United we must stand in a sea of green.
I must point out that this still does not discredit my World Cup conspiracy theory. It just proves it, more or less. Ireland could actually be a contender but what would FIFA do if they actually took the thing? Seriously, if Ireland does get lucky and beat France, then at least they can say they beat one of the better teams out there and have proof that they are a serious contender. My guess is there is always wishful thinking or luck of the Irish. HA!
Allez les Bleus!
~LeChat
30 September 2009
Champions League - Olympiakos HOME
Once again, another mid-week feature goes by and I sit at my desk steadily typing, reviewing, being all work minded and whatever else you want to call it. I won't complain about work. At least I won't complain about my work, because I'm pretty satisfied with the type of work I do. Now if they can get my pay rate correct and put me into the permanent position I might even be quite happy with the work I do.
Tuesday began with me waking up and suffering from this miserable cold. At least I am led to believe it was a cold.. wait, I still have it. It actually interfered with my Monday night hanging out with Jonfromnextdoor and ChelskiGirl. Someone thought it would be funny to text me random words at midnight.
Back to Tuesday...
I start getting a few text from a variety of the usuals:
A Certain Scouser. (yah it's going to stick now) Firstly trying to find out where exactly I was. Doing the good work was my response or something to that effect.
ChelskiGirl was keeping an eye on the Arsenal game and sending me information on that. Then a brilliant text about how Liverpool were already down by TWO!
I quietly sipped my chai while giggling with giddy glee about the possibility of Scousers losing to some Italians. I know it's not really fair but the cold medicine was catching up to my delirious mode.
I think the best one came from ACMilan, which I should explain he has an issue about losing to the Scousers some time ago on a pitch far far away. It simply said.
I have to admit having mates keeping you in the loop while you are on interweb lock-down at work is top notch. Much respect to all of you.
I did send a consolation text to A Certain Scouser.
Later that night I got another message from DJM about how Liverpool looked like a bunch of high schoolers playing football. I haven't had time to catch the highlights but it is hard to believe a team with that much class talent could crumble under the pressure of the Italians.
I spent a good part of the evening downing massive amounts of tea with honey. Hopefully by this weekend I am better. Planning on DCUnited - Chivas game Saturday night and it would be a royale pain in the Arse if I don't feel well enough to go. I'm not a super huge fan of MLS to begin with but hey the tickets were free.
In sore throat agony, yours truly,
~Le Chat
OH OH OH Breaking News Kroneke (USA)has 28.7% of Arsenal shares, just 1.2% more and he gets to do the takeover. This is getting interesting.
OH other Breaking News MARADONA is asking god to lend him a hand!
Yah, REALLY.
Tuesday began with me waking up and suffering from this miserable cold. At least I am led to believe it was a cold.. wait, I still have it. It actually interfered with my Monday night hanging out with Jonfromnextdoor and ChelskiGirl. Someone thought it would be funny to text me random words at midnight.
Back to Tuesday...
I start getting a few text from a variety of the usuals:
A Certain Scouser. (yah it's going to stick now) Firstly trying to find out where exactly I was. Doing the good work was my response or something to that effect.
ChelskiGirl was keeping an eye on the Arsenal game and sending me information on that. Then a brilliant text about how Liverpool were already down by TWO!
I quietly sipped my chai while giggling with giddy glee about the possibility of Scousers losing to some Italians. I know it's not really fair but the cold medicine was catching up to my delirious mode.
I think the best one came from ACMilan, which I should explain he has an issue about losing to the Scousers some time ago on a pitch far far away. It simply said.
Pooor scousers. BWAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I have to admit having mates keeping you in the loop while you are on interweb lock-down at work is top notch. Much respect to all of you.
I did send a consolation text to A Certain Scouser.
Later that night I got another message from DJM about how Liverpool looked like a bunch of high schoolers playing football. I haven't had time to catch the highlights but it is hard to believe a team with that much class talent could crumble under the pressure of the Italians.
I spent a good part of the evening downing massive amounts of tea with honey. Hopefully by this weekend I am better. Planning on DCUnited - Chivas game Saturday night and it would be a royale pain in the Arse if I don't feel well enough to go. I'm not a super huge fan of MLS to begin with but hey the tickets were free.
In sore throat agony, yours truly,
~Le Chat
OH OH OH Breaking News Kroneke (USA)has 28.7% of Arsenal shares, just 1.2% more and he gets to do the takeover. This is getting interesting.
OH other Breaking News MARADONA is asking god to lend him a hand!
Yah, REALLY.
19 August 2009
Champions League - Celtic Away
Well if you haven't figured, I usually give myself a day or so to let things set in, this being no different. This way I can sort through the random chaos of what transpired and come up with something a little more like jello. It may shake, it may jiggle but damnit there's always room for more.
I don't get a good chance to see mid-weeks unless they are on delay and due to the Internet-Ban at work during working hours, I can't even get the play by play any longer. It has crossed my mind to just flaunt the ban and hope for the best but you know I can wait.
Patience is a virtue that I truly do possess.
I've been a Gooner since 85-86.
So I could truly dazzle you with stories of bankruptcies, foreclosures and weird telephone calls from bizarre clients; The insurmountable stack of papers and files that reside on my desk; The blind taste test of the old style envelope glue versus the new style envelope glue, but I don't want to overwhelm you.
Match report says: Celtic were shit.
I am truly surprised to tell you the truth. It is odd just reading match reports. You get so used to having a look at the match, at least thanks to the wonderful world of cable and satellite, that you forget how important it is for match reports to convey the spirit of the game.
My usual spot for a bit of reading the action is the Guardian UK. It isn't for the actual reportage but for the bits of nonsense that surround the reportage. It's sort of like being in the pub, because of all the bits of nonsense.
Now for the real surprise of today. As you may know Burnley just defeated MancScum, which is all well and good. The real surprise is... and I hate to say it...
FAHKIN SPURS ARE TOP OF THE LEAGUE!
Ok I am going to go off myself.
I know. I know. I KNOW. It's only the second game of the season but this is like saying ManShitty or Villa are a big club. I just feel dirty.
I got this terrible headache around 4:00PM today. I kept blaming it on the new carpet that they were putting down in the office but now I know the planets were misaligned and Pluto just got smacked by an asteroid.
Now I truly understand that sickening feeling...
A rather overwhelming sickening feeling.
*vomit*
Pardon me.
~LeChat
I don't get a good chance to see mid-weeks unless they are on delay and due to the Internet-Ban at work during working hours, I can't even get the play by play any longer. It has crossed my mind to just flaunt the ban and hope for the best but you know I can wait.
Patience is a virtue that I truly do possess.
I've been a Gooner since 85-86.
So I could truly dazzle you with stories of bankruptcies, foreclosures and weird telephone calls from bizarre clients; The insurmountable stack of papers and files that reside on my desk; The blind taste test of the old style envelope glue versus the new style envelope glue, but I don't want to overwhelm you.
Match report says: Celtic were shit.
I am truly surprised to tell you the truth. It is odd just reading match reports. You get so used to having a look at the match, at least thanks to the wonderful world of cable and satellite, that you forget how important it is for match reports to convey the spirit of the game.
My usual spot for a bit of reading the action is the Guardian UK. It isn't for the actual reportage but for the bits of nonsense that surround the reportage. It's sort of like being in the pub, because of all the bits of nonsense.
Now for the real surprise of today. As you may know Burnley just defeated MancScum, which is all well and good. The real surprise is... and I hate to say it...
FAHKIN SPURS ARE TOP OF THE LEAGUE!
Ok I am going to go off myself.
I know. I know. I KNOW. It's only the second game of the season but this is like saying ManShitty or Villa are a big club. I just feel dirty.
I got this terrible headache around 4:00PM today. I kept blaming it on the new carpet that they were putting down in the office but now I know the planets were misaligned and Pluto just got smacked by an asteroid.
Now I truly understand that sickening feeling...
A rather overwhelming sickening feeling.
*vomit*
Pardon me.
~LeChat
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