Wah wah wah
Fabio Capello, England manager has leant his name (probably for a lot of cash) to a ratings website for footballers. Excuse mon français, but sofuckinwhat? It was already postponed after the FA thought it might damage morale. Erm, not beating Algeria tends to have that effect. Now it’s online, despite attempts to have it withdrawn. And surprise, surprise, English players don’t come out so well. Well, there’s a shock. Did we expect to log on and see John Terry with 98%? Only if the rating was “Out of 100%, how much of a wanker is John Terry”? No England player should be stunned to see a bad score on the site. I mean, if the site was the Capello Fitty Index, would Wayne Rooney be stunned to see himself rated lower than a poisoned goat’s knee? No. Neither would he be at finding out online he didn’t play all that well in South Africa. And please, media-types, stop getting uppity about the Capello Index. Your pages and papers slagged the players off for playing shit. Then they slagged the players off for going on holiday (HOW DARE THEY HAVE A HOLIDAY IN THEIR TIME OFF? England players should all be drowning in the tears of disappointed children while weighed down under immigrants). Now they are slagging off a website for slagging off the players. Make your mind up you sanctimonious merkins.
Gillian McKeith. I will not call you a doctor because you’re not a doctor. I will call you an idiot because you are one. Idiot Gillian McKeith had a twitter go at Ben Goldacre, author of the excellent Bad Science series of blogs and books. Then she tried to hide it. Badly. So, Idiot McKeith, you’ve turned into one of those poohs you so rejoice in analysing. Unlucky, Idiot McPooh.
I don’t like virginity talk. Youth and sex is big in today’s media, with shows like Skins and such forth bringing the subject to the forefront of our attention. I find talk of it distasteful – a lot of the interest is unpleasant voyeurism, and too much weight is put on ‘losing it’. It’s anticlimactic and too quick and the next time is miles better. That is pretty much universal, and we all know it. So when I read about Kate Monro’s project to collect and publish personal experiences of first times, I thought ‘here we go, a bit of tripe’. But this account, which I hope is genuine, is pure unintended comedy brilliance:
Arthur Perks, 86, lost his virginity in 1943
“I had no idea at all about sex. I never even saw my mum and dad kiss each other. I did think of going to a prostitute to show me how to do it, before I made a fool of myself, but I didn’t have the courage.
“In 1942, when I was 22, I joined the army so I never had time to go with women because I was a front line soldier. Then we went into Austria and annexed a couple of hotels on a lake. It was beautiful and I used to row round the lake and one night, there was this girl standing on the jetty.
“She took a fancy to me and I began to get a stir if you know what I mean. One night we had a nice night of rumpity-pump and it happened. Just like that. And the unfortunate part of it was, there was nothing splendid about it at all. I got the erection and bob’s your uncle. Away we went. Of course we weren’t so adventurous in those days. You didn’t try positions or anything like that, women are more forward today than they ever were back then.”
Palin, go back to Alaska and fuck a bear
Sarah Palin is a total dildo:
She is really getting on my nerves lately. Now she thinks she can invent new words – refudiate, in case you were wondering. No, spellcheck doesn’t understand either. Apparently, she thinks she can do this because Shakespeare did. For two reasons, Sarah, you can’t – 1) Shakespeare was good at words, and 2) it’s not your language, twatbag. It’s slightly worrying that this woman doesn’t understand the red squiggly line. If that is confusing, how can she be trusted with the big red button?
I know that you aren’t allowed like Oasis, because they’re from the North, they don’t drink Pimms and they expect a woman to cook the dinner. Well, fuck off, some of their music is incredible. Even up ’til the tumultuous end, the band produced cracking tunes. Here’s The Shock Of The Lightning, one of those corkers and my new favourite running song:
Yeah, Liam Gallagher would ingest the ashes of John Lennon if he had half a chance. But that song, and that video (especially after the drum solo) are fanfuckintastic.
In other news
-I’m down to about 28 minutes for my run. Woo!
-Bruce Forsyth just nearly made me cry. What. A. Man.
Right, Big Brother/Alan Wake/Bed. Super.