The Six nations are upon us
“This is it this time I know it’s the real thing!” that’s what Dannii Minogue said in her top ten hit of 1993. I think the stupid cow was talking about a man but I am sure the sub text pointed to the start of what was the five nations. The man she was singing about probably kicked her into touch probably because he had shagged her already and the mental bitch was singing a song about him and Dannii moved on to hot singles like…er…..all I want to do…er anyway whilst this was happening the 5 nations evolved into the six nations when the pasta guzzling excessive gesture monkeys the Italians joined the Party.
In their infinite wisdom the twats in the governing body decided to place the away trip to Italy for Wales in the same season as the away trips to Scotland and France, two of our favourite trips leaving us to try and decide to go to Dublin, the rudest city since Paris circa 1940 when they accidently let in 5 divisions of Germans and sullenly let them stay for 4 or so years or Twickenham the place that closes at 9 at night so international night is spent on an underground. What next Sunday internationals……..
But forget the whinging for a bit – its nearly time for the Six Nations!
The Six Nations – already there is a tightening in the stomach in anticipation of the teams, the games, the friends and the seshes – it is what a real mans life is about. This year we have the added excitement of it being a 6 nations in a World cup year so our hard-ons are that little bit harder. So what do we expect from the teams in the six nations. I wont comment on Wales but will look at the others
England
As much as I want imperialist pigdogs to eat muck, I think they may be the surprise package. For us (As in the entire human race) we collected a lot of money for the RFU to keep Robinson on but still they get rid of him. Ashton will refresh this English team and I think they will play well. I am also gutted that Robinson and Catt are back – they are great players. It was these great players who snuffed us out in the battle of Brisbane quarter final 2003. I wouldn’t call Lewsey old guard as I think he would make a great English captain (if I was English). People write them off but they did beat South Africa and that’s something we havent done for a whil
Ireland
If I was Ireland I would get a big fuck off saw and cut away Dublin and float in into the sea. The bad side of this would be that it might float towards Wales so we would have to buy a big fuck of stick and push it away towards other places which are pretentious and up their own arses. I have seen more Craic at the top of Tews arse. Anyway this team is awesome but I think is hit really badly by Horgan being injured, he really is a monster. Even though it has taken him about 30 years, I think that O Gara is playing really well and Stringer is consistent but I think that Boss is a much better scrum half. The backs are great even though Hickie looks like an Alchi. BOD is amazing and love watching him play because everyone thinks he is a nice bloke when secretly he is a right cunt and is so competitive. On the form in the autumn series these bois should do it. I would have loved to have seen Ireland play the Kiwis on a shitty day in Dublin. Even if they won I bet the Irish team wouldn’t have been allowed into pubs in groups of more than 2 – and then get charged a fucking fortune for a pint of shit that tastes exactly the same as the one you get from down your local pubs. Pull your heads from your arse – it does travel!
France
Uber clichéd I know but which team will turn up? Will it be the shiny cheesy mercurial warriors or a set of fat shits intent on fighting. Whatever I say about them they will do the exact opposite like Neil. They will be under pressure because its their world cup in the autumn and I think their coach who looks very much like snakey Sheldon has used about 300 players last year and that was just at fly half. Italy will scare the shite out of them on Saturday.
Scotland
I bluddi does do love Scotland – the finest trip in the six nations. Where the bouncers let you do whatever you want except sleep. The Jockinese are great – god bless ‘em
They have to admit that they performed way above themselves and their own expectations. Beating England and France was fantastic for them and if they hadn’t had a man sent off and we hadn’t have had Gareth Thomas they would have had us as well. They will miss Jason White who is a cracking player but they still have the likes of Chris Paterson and Simon Taylor who are class. They also have the Krankies and Russ Abbott in a ginger wig. The six nations needs a good Scotland team and I wish the Scottish regions would start to get their act together. I mean what is the fucking point of Edinburgh playing in a 55 thousand seater stadium in front of 4000??? Why not play in a 4000 seater and have some atmosphere – plums. I think Frank Hadden is a great coach and can and will have to work miracles.
Italy
Havent been on tour to Rome but have been there quite a few times and I like it. Cant drive and cant win wars but is starting to build a quality side under le petit General (no, not my cock) Pierre Berbizier. Their pack are quality and it is generally accepted that in Castrogiavanni they have one of the best props in the world. In the autumn internationals they pushed Argentina and Australia and we cant forget that last year when we six nation champions and playing at home we managed a draw!!! They need consistent and talented half backs to control things like they had with Dominguez and Troncon who is back in the squad.
So that’s the teams – I haven’t the vocabulary to express how excited I am and you should be to (well some of you…for many of you its business as usual but that’s because you don’t have lives or mates anymore you boring twats – honestly just because you enjoyed a few lagers and snogged a bird in 1993 at Uni doesn’t mean your Olly Reed, really you have missed out on loads of fun – but no worries at least you afforded those new curtains).
While some of the chickens are in Scotland while the others are in France we are also going to have the mother of sashes the weekend of the Wales England match. contact me in order to tell me if you are attending this petit soiree. People are up for it and we might even get an appearance off one of our glorious founders the rotund gwar Cock (eral). It is an official cap so I expect the regulars like that fat lipped Jew, the perverted cow fingerer and the champagne didi do from Bedrock but I also expect all the bois. It will be the last one for a while.
The Six Nations are here and it is time for the gathering, lets get ready to rumble!!!
The Rooster is out saturday and Sunday - any takers?
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Friday, January 19, 2007
Kiwis flashback - hide the knives
Last seen leaving a house in Inverness street in Cardiff in 2003 claiming to have David Campese's Lovechild growing in her womb............
hmm let me look into my shiny crystal Balls
So we have suckled at the big fat bosoms of the whore we call Christmas until, sated and looking and feeling like a hungover Taz living in the skin of Skis left scrotom sack, we prepare ourselves for another year of responsibility, hardship and necessity.
Yes life is hard, a savage garden of birth and death, illness and suffering a reminder of our mortality and our short time on this earth. But as with all aspects of nature there must be balance, where we have life we must also live our lives listening out for the footfalls of the Reaper. Where there is darkness there must of course be light and so where there is the dreariness of modern life and the plodding along of family, partners, dating, shopping, visiting people, DIY and bills there is us, the boys, the Lovechickens, the lads, mates or as some of our partners know us as; Them.
So as Lovechickens what do we have to look forward to in 2007, I am no mystic Meg but being of a Celtic persuasion I do believe I have magical powers (20 pints and 10 bottles of blue shite and I can still get home on my own – how do you like that David Blane yer prick?!) so as I look into my pint pot with the remnants of Strongbow lurking at the bottom I scry for the future for the next few months.
January
Pete Dev will be 35 years old this month, I wont – ha ha. By the fucker a pair of Wellies and a cow.
February
The Six Nations are here YAY!!! This is our Christmas, the Holy Grail of blokeism where the year comes alive and we can go out and be ourselves. Book your dates off now because I am sick to fucking death of hearing shit excuses. The worst one - that I didn’t know – GET A FUCKING LIFE!! OK? You know now so get some back bone and tell your missus or book time off work. It doesn’t have to be a Lovechickens weekend of monumental proportions but please remember these are our holy days and should be treated as such.
February is the month for the Lovechickens bi-annual tour to Scotland. My favourite tour by a square mile. I don’t understand a word anyone says so it feels like I am abroad but they use pounds so I know its not and they are a Celtic nation so I feel like I belong there – great. See The Fergatron for details but be aware you will have to kip on the floor and get your own way up.
With the war in Iraq going so badly the British Government asks Chris Moyles lookalikey Taz Stone to take over peace keeping duties in Basra. Within a few hours of the ham fisted fucker arriving and having a few beers he decides to pick a fight with coalition forces who are trying to be his friend, within months he becomes the figurehead for Sunni and Shia insurgents alike. He unites the country and drives the capitalist infidels from the land becoming the leader. Like his degree he relies on his class mates to actually run the country and gets bored after a few months and becomes a basketball coach amongst the pygmy tribes of Indonesia.
Morg Hart enrols into the Cannonball run. A race across America against some of the finest racers in the world. He becomes a firm friend of JJ Maclure (Burt Reynolds) but that only gets him so far because numb nuts cant drive to save his life and during a tricky left turn while indicating and using wipers Morg crashes into the start line.
This time the smart birds don’t win, Dean Martin and the funny black bloke does. David Coulthard came second and Ski came third because he was jammed so far up Davids arse at the finish.
Tew got off his sofa a record eight times in a month his best this century and since 1999.
Big Doug is named by the United Nations as a new continent. Dougonia is situated smack bang in the Atlantic and is covered in deep forests known as Pete Farrells and Alex photos eyebrows.
Aliens land in North Wales after they intercepted a phone call between the Gog Lovechickens, Champers and Bruce. The Aliens who can only communicate in what seems like short bursts of guttural sounds believed the Gogs to be marooned fellow aliens. Once the landed and found out that the Gogs were just sub-standard humans they decided to help them by giving them the gift of fire.
Ches catches an STD but I hardly need to be a fucking seer to know that is going to happen.
Ches, who has a bigger pout than Daniel Craig gets caught ten timing when he accidentally invites 9 of his birds over to his missus’ house for tea. She starts crying and he loses it saying that he needs space, its all her fault and she is suffocating him.
Fuzz and Big Will drink 20 pints of ‘Bo and Orange’ and get to the finals of Strictly come dancing eventually losing to twinkle toed celebs Rick Waller and Dawn French.
Forsyth, B – So boys how do you think you did?
Williams, F – Well my speciality is mainly freestyle but this suited me and Will just fine and I think that 20 injured with 2 fatalities is pretty good.
Will, B – Ida do love dancing and things especially with youm
Bald, anal and Squeaky defender of justice Snakey Sheldon is recognised as the policeman who has the most arrests in Police history. The short monkey type creature who looks like annoying gay Marco from Big brother 4 or 5 has notched up an amazing 300 arrests in 3 years. It has been worked out that Doughnut loving flumpster Phil Kite, on his current rate, will have to stay in the police Force for 116 years to get half of that, seeing that in 10 years on the job he has arrested just 10 people, none of them while having a straight face.
There are only 2 weeks to go till the holy grail - if you want to join the Lovechickens fantasy rugby league give me a ring, just watch Chris Parry try and pick himself.
Yes life is hard, a savage garden of birth and death, illness and suffering a reminder of our mortality and our short time on this earth. But as with all aspects of nature there must be balance, where we have life we must also live our lives listening out for the footfalls of the Reaper. Where there is darkness there must of course be light and so where there is the dreariness of modern life and the plodding along of family, partners, dating, shopping, visiting people, DIY and bills there is us, the boys, the Lovechickens, the lads, mates or as some of our partners know us as; Them.
So as Lovechickens what do we have to look forward to in 2007, I am no mystic Meg but being of a Celtic persuasion I do believe I have magical powers (20 pints and 10 bottles of blue shite and I can still get home on my own – how do you like that David Blane yer prick?!) so as I look into my pint pot with the remnants of Strongbow lurking at the bottom I scry for the future for the next few months.
January
Pete Dev will be 35 years old this month, I wont – ha ha. By the fucker a pair of Wellies and a cow.
February
The Six Nations are here YAY!!! This is our Christmas, the Holy Grail of blokeism where the year comes alive and we can go out and be ourselves. Book your dates off now because I am sick to fucking death of hearing shit excuses. The worst one - that I didn’t know – GET A FUCKING LIFE!! OK? You know now so get some back bone and tell your missus or book time off work. It doesn’t have to be a Lovechickens weekend of monumental proportions but please remember these are our holy days and should be treated as such.
February is the month for the Lovechickens bi-annual tour to Scotland. My favourite tour by a square mile. I don’t understand a word anyone says so it feels like I am abroad but they use pounds so I know its not and they are a Celtic nation so I feel like I belong there – great. See The Fergatron for details but be aware you will have to kip on the floor and get your own way up.
With the war in Iraq going so badly the British Government asks Chris Moyles lookalikey Taz Stone to take over peace keeping duties in Basra. Within a few hours of the ham fisted fucker arriving and having a few beers he decides to pick a fight with coalition forces who are trying to be his friend, within months he becomes the figurehead for Sunni and Shia insurgents alike. He unites the country and drives the capitalist infidels from the land becoming the leader. Like his degree he relies on his class mates to actually run the country and gets bored after a few months and becomes a basketball coach amongst the pygmy tribes of Indonesia.
Morg Hart enrols into the Cannonball run. A race across America against some of the finest racers in the world. He becomes a firm friend of JJ Maclure (Burt Reynolds) but that only gets him so far because numb nuts cant drive to save his life and during a tricky left turn while indicating and using wipers Morg crashes into the start line.
This time the smart birds don’t win, Dean Martin and the funny black bloke does. David Coulthard came second and Ski came third because he was jammed so far up Davids arse at the finish.
Tew got off his sofa a record eight times in a month his best this century and since 1999.
Big Doug is named by the United Nations as a new continent. Dougonia is situated smack bang in the Atlantic and is covered in deep forests known as Pete Farrells and Alex photos eyebrows.
Aliens land in North Wales after they intercepted a phone call between the Gog Lovechickens, Champers and Bruce. The Aliens who can only communicate in what seems like short bursts of guttural sounds believed the Gogs to be marooned fellow aliens. Once the landed and found out that the Gogs were just sub-standard humans they decided to help them by giving them the gift of fire.
Ches catches an STD but I hardly need to be a fucking seer to know that is going to happen.
Ches, who has a bigger pout than Daniel Craig gets caught ten timing when he accidentally invites 9 of his birds over to his missus’ house for tea. She starts crying and he loses it saying that he needs space, its all her fault and she is suffocating him.
Fuzz and Big Will drink 20 pints of ‘Bo and Orange’ and get to the finals of Strictly come dancing eventually losing to twinkle toed celebs Rick Waller and Dawn French.
Forsyth, B – So boys how do you think you did?
Williams, F – Well my speciality is mainly freestyle but this suited me and Will just fine and I think that 20 injured with 2 fatalities is pretty good.
Will, B – Ida do love dancing and things especially with youm
Bald, anal and Squeaky defender of justice Snakey Sheldon is recognised as the policeman who has the most arrests in Police history. The short monkey type creature who looks like annoying gay Marco from Big brother 4 or 5 has notched up an amazing 300 arrests in 3 years. It has been worked out that Doughnut loving flumpster Phil Kite, on his current rate, will have to stay in the police Force for 116 years to get half of that, seeing that in 10 years on the job he has arrested just 10 people, none of them while having a straight face.
There are only 2 weeks to go till the holy grail - if you want to join the Lovechickens fantasy rugby league give me a ring, just watch Chris Parry try and pick himself.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
what i did over the holidays by London Welsh aged 5 2/3
How I lost my phone and why you never lose your phone just before xmas if you live in Abertysswg...
Thursday 21st December - 6pm Away we go, ho, ho. Works xmas party in some swanky bar, full of wanky bankers. Never mind, the food was free as was, more importantly, the copious amounts of Guinness that I fuelled myself with. When it's free, we drink more quickly. When we drink with people we don't usually drink with, we also drink more quickly - maybe to prove that "I'm a reeel man, and youse is just a fuckin poof. Now drink tha drop up now today now". I was meeting The Aggressor and The Cock at 9pm.
By 9pm I was a little tainted. These two, top form drinkers in thier time, were fresh and thirsty. The Cock did have a roll-neck on I remember and me and The Aggressor went for him about it early doors. He bit, so we then ripped into his Phillipiono/Sri Lankan/etc 22 year old missus. Unsurprisingly he bit again! Tiger Tiger, Leicester Square. Nice birds, nice price on the beer. Remember dancing with lush birds, pulling one - got her number. Great, loads of fingering after xmas with a lawyer. Low maintenance (she'd be working all the time). Result. Left at 2am (I'm supposed to be opening my gym out in essex at 6am by the way).
Then it happened. Bit of horseplay as we walked down the street led to The Cock tripping me with a Russian Leg Sweep and The Aggressor living true to his name as he landed a devastating Elbow Drop (it may as well have been 'off the top ropes' with his weight). I Hulked Up and hit a spear. It wasn't exactly WWF, more like Women in Love. Then we went for the bus. At some point during this Gayness I dropped my mobile. Some darky is probably still looking through my dirty photos and photos of Wales v Eng 2005.
Friday 22 - 8.15am WOKE UP. AAAH. HEAD HURT. FUCK, DIDNT OPEN GYM. PEOPLE DOING PRESS UPS IN CAR PARK????!!!!! BETTER PHONE WORK. FUCK MY PHONE. WHERE? SHIT I LOST IT. Oh well, i'll just go back to sleep cos i'm already in shit, best not be in shit with a hangover. Friday 22nd - 4pm Chris Rea is on the Radio and I am indeed "Driving Home for Xmas" Friday 22nd - 10.30pm Been home for two hours and I am climbing the fucking walls. No texts, no numbers to call. I know by this point there is fingering aplenty in Kiwis and I need to be there. But i'm not, i'm watching Jonathan Ross.
Sat 23rd - Wed 27th Dec. Much of a muchness from above. There's only so much you can do in a small Welsh inbred village such as Abertysswg where, because you didn't stay within a one-mile radius of the Rugby Club for the rest of your life, you are an outsider and are shunned even by people you used to call your best mates. Orange needed a Lost Property number which, because the Police Station is only open on a Wednesday between one and five-past one (maybe i'm exaggerating), I couldnt get until that period.
Thu 28th Report Phone Fri 29th (one WEEK later) Get phone. Take ages to register. Still have no numbers except the ones emailed to me. I did find myself texting myself "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" one line after another at one point.
Sat 30th Go back to London after the most unsuccessful Xmas in history. Limited drinking and no fingering. Not a sausage, literally. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKE - NEVER LOSE YOUR PHONE IF YOU PLAN TO SPEND EXTENDED PERIODS IN HIRWAUN, RHYADER, NEWCASTLE EMLYN OR BETTWS-Y-COED. BUT ESPECIALLY IN ABER-FUCKING-TYSSWG. ESPECIALLY OVER XMAS.
Thank you, London Welsh c/o St Cadocs Mental Institute, Caerleon, Newport.
Thursday 21st December - 6pm Away we go, ho, ho. Works xmas party in some swanky bar, full of wanky bankers. Never mind, the food was free as was, more importantly, the copious amounts of Guinness that I fuelled myself with. When it's free, we drink more quickly. When we drink with people we don't usually drink with, we also drink more quickly - maybe to prove that "I'm a reeel man, and youse is just a fuckin poof. Now drink tha drop up now today now". I was meeting The Aggressor and The Cock at 9pm.
By 9pm I was a little tainted. These two, top form drinkers in thier time, were fresh and thirsty. The Cock did have a roll-neck on I remember and me and The Aggressor went for him about it early doors. He bit, so we then ripped into his Phillipiono/Sri Lankan/etc 22 year old missus. Unsurprisingly he bit again! Tiger Tiger, Leicester Square. Nice birds, nice price on the beer. Remember dancing with lush birds, pulling one - got her number. Great, loads of fingering after xmas with a lawyer. Low maintenance (she'd be working all the time). Result. Left at 2am (I'm supposed to be opening my gym out in essex at 6am by the way).
Then it happened. Bit of horseplay as we walked down the street led to The Cock tripping me with a Russian Leg Sweep and The Aggressor living true to his name as he landed a devastating Elbow Drop (it may as well have been 'off the top ropes' with his weight). I Hulked Up and hit a spear. It wasn't exactly WWF, more like Women in Love. Then we went for the bus. At some point during this Gayness I dropped my mobile. Some darky is probably still looking through my dirty photos and photos of Wales v Eng 2005.
Friday 22 - 8.15am WOKE UP. AAAH. HEAD HURT. FUCK, DIDNT OPEN GYM. PEOPLE DOING PRESS UPS IN CAR PARK????!!!!! BETTER PHONE WORK. FUCK MY PHONE. WHERE? SHIT I LOST IT. Oh well, i'll just go back to sleep cos i'm already in shit, best not be in shit with a hangover. Friday 22nd - 4pm Chris Rea is on the Radio and I am indeed "Driving Home for Xmas" Friday 22nd - 10.30pm Been home for two hours and I am climbing the fucking walls. No texts, no numbers to call. I know by this point there is fingering aplenty in Kiwis and I need to be there. But i'm not, i'm watching Jonathan Ross.
Sat 23rd - Wed 27th Dec. Much of a muchness from above. There's only so much you can do in a small Welsh inbred village such as Abertysswg where, because you didn't stay within a one-mile radius of the Rugby Club for the rest of your life, you are an outsider and are shunned even by people you used to call your best mates. Orange needed a Lost Property number which, because the Police Station is only open on a Wednesday between one and five-past one (maybe i'm exaggerating), I couldnt get until that period.
Thu 28th Report Phone Fri 29th (one WEEK later) Get phone. Take ages to register. Still have no numbers except the ones emailed to me. I did find myself texting myself "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" one line after another at one point.
Sat 30th Go back to London after the most unsuccessful Xmas in history. Limited drinking and no fingering. Not a sausage, literally. LEARN FROM MY MISTAKE - NEVER LOSE YOUR PHONE IF YOU PLAN TO SPEND EXTENDED PERIODS IN HIRWAUN, RHYADER, NEWCASTLE EMLYN OR BETTWS-Y-COED. BUT ESPECIALLY IN ABER-FUCKING-TYSSWG. ESPECIALLY OVER XMAS.
Thank you, London Welsh c/o St Cadocs Mental Institute, Caerleon, Newport.
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