hi-res-23b55aae57fdce1a7b133312e3d8edf7_crop_north

So the World Cup of Footyball is upon us. As we unleash the usual fan madness about certain players we wax within the confines of our own groups about the pros and cons of various Southgate choices. Myself…well I think Coady should have been picked but maybe I’m getting ahead of myself with him. I would have him as a Player Manager but I suppose you already know that. But as the flags get whanged outside windows and we plan some mad alcohol infused barbecue/world cup watching madness we have another crumpled and battered thing dragged out into the sun. No not the Missus…Piers fucking Morgan. A bloke that looks like he collects dead childrens shoes. Like he picks his arse and smells it. He’s the bloke in the next car eating his own snot and as he looks over at you looking at him, he smiles. He doesn’t give a shit the odious little bogie gobbler.

Raheem Sterling gets an M16 automatic rifle tattooed on his leg. All hell has broken loose. Well I say broken loose. Somebody has let Piers Morgan use the internet again. Now Piers Morgan is what he is. He’s definitely a Lizard, a media Lizard at that. So Piers has waxed his dumpy sad man lyrics in that epitome of journalistic delights ‘The Sun’ newspaper. Now he is annoyed. He’s somehow made a link between Sterlings fucking leg and the spate of mass shootings in the USA. Fucking hell, that’s a bloody cosmic extrapolation by any account. You might as well say that Prince whatever his faces wedding to Mega Murkle or whatever her face is may be a disgusting thing when hundreds of homeless are dying on our streets every Winter. It’s a big extrapolation isn’t it? Fair enough you could kind of tie the two events together in some sort of weird abstract way. You would maybe get a few to agree possibly. Those are the kind of people who when they connect two wrongs then it makes a right…or something. But it’s time to stop arguing with people that think two events could be connected in some way. It’s time to extend the arm, and slap them around the head until they stop being so fucking stupid.

Piers of course has blood on his hands. His coverage of a fake British Army mistreatment of Iraqi Shiites during Gulf War two…or one I forget, probably led to Bfritish Army casualties as the City of Basra reacted to his coverage. In fact I would make a bet it did. He’s not a nice person our Piers. Phone hacking of dead girls mobile phones, celebrities going through an addiction hell followed by Journos. More phone hacking. More shenanigans. The fucking doughnut needs to be in Prison I don’t know about spouting shite from the Murdochian dystopia of ‘The Sun’ Towers. They even let him on prime time telly. He’s on in the morning apparently but I haven’t watched non football TV since 1983. So I can’t comment on what drivel he ladles out to the prongs who actually watch ‘The glass tit’ when there are other far more interesting things to do.

But yes. A few weeks before one of the greatest football tournaments in the world. One in which OUR country is playing the media machine gets rolling. It’s the same every four years. Instead of happy, funky stories about the lads who have been picked it’s a case of ‘let’s really fuck up the vibe’ from the media. We’ve seen it before of course. Gascoigne and company. Or maybe Venables, Allardyce et al. They get picked up pretty quick by the reptiles in the press. You would think they had an agenda or something to quickly stamp out any feel good vibe the squad has before a tournament. Surely this should be the time when we all support the lads. I know Henderson is a doughnut, but I’m still going to cheer for him. He represents us (in a fashion) as does Sterling and any other England player you can pick out.

Raheem says he had the tattoo done because his Dad was gunned down and it’s a kind of statement. That’s ok. We know these footballing stars are lunatics, hidden away from real life they are exotic greenhouse orchids that are a bit weird, they behave strange, they get weird haircuts, strange girlfriends with big tittys and fucked up eyebrows, they act like rock stars and that’s the world they live in. They take a lot of nurturing these players. They are surrounded by sycophants and advisers. They are not normal people. They exist in a quantum state. We don’t know what the fuck is going through their heads at any given time. But what he does is entirely his choice and I haven’t got any rights at all to make any assumptions about what he does and why. That’s his business.

So we can maybe come to the conclusion that all these mega buck football players are lunatics in a fashion. That’s a hypothesis that sits well with me. I’ve met a few football stars. They are for the most part total fucking zoids. But that’s absolutely nothing to do with me, and there is the crux of the matter.

You see if Raheem wanted to tattoo his leg with a big fuck off Donald Duck tattoo I wouldn’t be much bothered. Probably because the greatest thing that tattoo would have made me feel was a burning sensation in my crotch as I spilled my cuppa while laughing at it. But I wouldn’t be extrapolating his tattoo as a piss take about the amount of Ducks killed in the USA by Duck Hunters. Because that’s silly isn’t it? Isn’t it?? But again, what the fuck has it got to do with me what he has tattooed on his leg? Absolutely fuck all mate. Loads of football players have Arabic ink jobs, loads have Chinese ideograms. Do they support Isis?? Do they support the Chinese Communist Partys massacres during the Chinese Civil war? Bloody hell.

I know the press have some sort of an Anti England agenda, I know the FA does too regardless of their ministrations. The England team always have two battles at a time when they play. The opposition and the English Press. But there is a simple way to deal with this assault on our countries players. Don’t partake of any media organ that steams into them. Don’t watch Piers Morgan on the TV. As soon as droves of viewers start switching off then he is fucked. Their mighty God (Money) is a powerful incentive to who they put on their crap shows. Same with the newspapers that like to get the odd foot in. Fuck them, don’t buy them, simple. Then they will go out of business. I mean reading about what tattoos they have, who they are shagging or who takes the odd rustly handshake isn’t massively important really, not to me any way.

I want to see the England team smash into Russia with an intent to fucking win the whole thing. Individually our team looks like a bunch of metro sexual weirdness. Collectively however I suspect they may have a few things to say in Russia this summer. I even think we may win it too, you never know. But I do know that if we do the press will be wanking themselves stupid over it, the reptiles will come out to bask in the reflected glory. That’s the nature of it. That’s how fucking low they are. They are the hackers of dead girls phones. They are the stalkers of the mentally ill. They are to blame for the murders of British service men and women. The Press mate they are the enemy.

What will I be doing? I don’t wave flags except my teams. But this summer I am thinking of getting a big fuck off Cross of Saint George and flying it outside my bedroom window. Will be people get offended by it? I couldn’t give a fuck. You offend me by being offended by it. I may even get an England shirt and learn who these players are so I can shout at them from my chair. In fact I fancy going over there now and wanging a few bottles around the streets of Russia for a giggle before a game. I’m provoked you see. I hope little Sterling bangs a few goals in, I hope our team takes this bullshit and shape it into a real zeitgeist around the England camp. I hope when we pick up the world cup and the reptiles start lathering themselves into a stupor over their IMacs that Sterling and company have a go back. Don’t talk to the press. Talk to us instead. Social media is a fucking powerful tool and they can get their message across without going through the Murdoch filter or the fascists at the BBC Match of the Day studios. Get on Instagram, get on Twitter. Tell us how you feel, what you are doing, how you did it etc. Let’s put the fucking Reptiles to sleep. It’s long overdue.