The Ospreys – an over polished turd?

Above: Having bought up every available player in Wales and some from the rest of the world that they'll actually allow to play, the Ospreys squad arrive for pre-season training

I don’t want this to be a Welsh centric blog because when it comes down to it there are more English and American Lovechickens than Welsh put I think something should be said about the under achievement of the Welsh regions and especially the Ospreys – a team so boring that I would rather listen to Gavin Hastings commentate on the weather.

Can you imagine having a team that includes Adam Jones, Tommy Bowe, Shane Williams, James Hook, Lee Byrne, Nikki Walker, Ryan Jones, Jerry Collins, Sonny Parker, Jonathan Thomas, Mefin Davies, Huw Bennett, Ian Gough, Marty Holah, Mike Phillips, Alun Wyn Jones! Then when you think about players who are and have the ability to be class but have not been heard of outside Wales like Justin Tipuric, Tom Prydie, kristian Phillips, Gareth Owen (class), Matthew Morgan, Andrew Bishop, Dai Flanagan. So after all that you have lots of money, a shiny new ground, coaches that players think are amazing like Scott Johnson and what do you do with it all – sweet fanny fuck all.

Yes they do lose a lot of players to international call up but are they telling me that their squad of people numbering quite possibly the population of a former soviet country (with a salary worth more than the GDP) might not make up for it!! The Ospreys act like some spoilt rich kid who buys up talent like sweets so other teams can’t have them and then leave them rotting on the bench or producing them to hone their talents on playing the Ulster seconds during the 6 nations or London Irish seconds during the Anglo-Welsh yawn..i mean cup.

Ospreys may say fuck you Rooster – what about the winning the Magners league last year and how about great wins in the European cup. All good points and correct ones but who talks about the Ospreys performances. People can name games where the other regions came good and produced good performances but even when they win Ospreys games are flat and shit. The marketing team in the Ospreys got off to a good start and then decided that their stars could take them the rest of the way – they were wrong and I would get rid of them. Scott Johnson is meant to be a straight talking no nonsense sort of guy so why doesn’t he start by having a straight talking no nonsense chat with himself. How can a team stick by Dan Biggar who is a good player and not pick the class act that is James Hook and then when things get really dicey at the end of the season pick Hook at 10!? Its too late now – he’s fucked off to Perpignan you fucking idiots and guess whose following him. And its not as if these players are sodding off to take big bucks and a warmer, wine filled culture in the south of France. Chris Mitchell of the ‘he’s not Gethin Jenkins or Adam Jones but he’ll do’ fame has actually chosen to join Exeter – what the fu……….!

In the past few seasons I have been hard pressed to understand the logic of some players who want to join the Ospreys. I know players are competitive and have, in some way, some built in belief that they are or want to be the best, but why would you want to join the Ospreys as 4th choice scrum half playing once every 3 games and once every season against the best – why not join a club like the Scarlets, dragons, Connaught, the Scottish and Italians sides and push yourself against the best as often as possible – George North would have never have a had more than one cap if he was an Osprey as he would have been playing for Aberavon against Bedwas a few weeks later!

Actually I can moan about the other regions another time – I could go on about the Ospreys – maybe a shining light is that they are losing a lot of players and they will stick to the talent they have and not keep looking elsewhere. Its time marketing and pr started earning their bucks and maybe its time Johnson and the rest of the Ospreys team concentrated on becoming the best, not talking about it and making excuses when they fuck up.

Yeah Ref! Fuck off back to Barbaria......

The tongue in cheek shout from a knowledgeable fan or the pig ignorant schreechings of some tubby, blonde west Walian scrubber festooned with glittery red cowboy hat, 1996 redstone sponsored Welsh top and enough makeup to render the front of my house?

Probably both, one ironic, one moronic. Yes but the fact of the matter is Wales is playing the Barbarians and to be honest our love affairs with these demi-gods from Barbaria are set in stone and go back even further than most of the Lovechickens except for Nunny who as a child used to his follow his favourite calpurnia team, antoninus’ XX legion who were posted just outside Londinium just after the invasion.

Anyhoo – lets start off with the positives. It’s a great tradition and it still means something to people. Years ago we never saw teams like the (old) Ospreys, Toulon, Bath, teams jam packed with international stars so the Barbarians were a one off. Fuck me the only foreigner in the great Neath team of the late 80’s was Colin Laity and he was from bloody Cornwall while players of the great Leicester team of the same time were probably from the town itself except for Rory Underwood who was obviously not from there……….because he talked posh.

The Barbarians is a team where players could set out their talents and not like club or international rugby today when everyone is probably coached on everything including when to side step, shopping seminars, wanking: socks or tissues? Back then it was all about the talent and I think that its true today. It’s probably the only test in top level rugby of someone’s true talents. The Barbarians give players the freedom to express themselves without the worry of defeat, relegation or having to make friends with Gavin Henson for however long he stays at the club. The players who have played and excelled for the Baa baas are a veritable whos-who of everybody who has made the grade in rugby.

Ignore Derwyn Jones for a moment but look at some of them; Gareth Edwards, Martin Johnson, Andy Irvine, Mike Gibson but then these have starred for the Lions but what about when you add Michael Lynagh, John Eales, Bryan Habana, Joost Van der Westhuizen, Richie Maccaw, Jerome Gallion, Didier Camberabero, Blanco.
Above: No, not drug addict Bubbles from hit US TV series 'The Wire' but winner of our best full back award Serge Blanco - proof that Guinness, cake and 60 packets of gallois will catch up with you in the end
Class, pure class. The Barbarians face the top hat and monocle wearing English tomorrow and with the new found running ethos of the English game it should be a good one. I’d say the same about them playing the Welsh a week later. A good game beckons but there is something negative and no, I am not going to start on about queues, sand, geese, people who litter and Sunday rugby (there are more and you know it), and that is why the fuck are Wales awarding caps against a scratch team. If I as super overlord/king/high governor/Master of the Lovechickens invited the exact team that are picked to play Wales next week and called them the Lovechickens and then managed to get a fixture against Wales – would Lovechickens XV v Wales be a capped game – would it fuck. This is just a penny pinching ploy by the WRU who are already hell bent on bumming the fuck out of real rugby fans. They’ll probably get about 35000 people – great another event that looks like its being played in a morgue (that is if the morgue is playing the continuing moan of horns over the loudspeaker system). New England training coach Tarquin St James Bumberry-Smyth gives first talk: 'Hello chaps, 3 times around the pitch and then we'll come back have some oranges and then bully the fags with our willies eh what what!"
Rant over – I’m just going to enjoy the games and wonder at the skills. These games are the start of the World cup and this blog is going to give you an indepth look at the teams and the countries, their stars and their cocks (Ashton), their form and their warm up games, as I am typing I am getting a semi, you lot must be gushing your pants. I can hardly wait – As ginger west Walians and Italians alike say – AVANTI

G'day you fucking dags - its cheeez or to me and you Chez

Above: voted best dressed Australian 2009-2011, dwayne here loves nothing more than rooting shielas and making plans to work behind a bar in London like every other fucking Aussie
Last week I had the pleasure of watching the other 6ft Jap, Gareth Delve, lead out the Melbourne Rebels at AAMI Park vs the Highlanders. I would now like to outline how fucking good Super Rugby is. They make our lot look like a bunch of spastics. Skills are superior, I even saw a prop throw a miss-pass. I have to say that I would back myself vs Danny Cipriani in a kicking duel, unless the kick was to win the game against Aberystwyth or Glamorgan uni. EPIC FAIL x2. But even Cipriani shines at this level, his total lack of defensive nouse doesn't matter because it's all about the product. Attack, score tries, run from your in-goal, cross-kick. Fuck something up? "Aw, no worries mate, she'll be right next time"...when someone knocks-on in Wales it's the end of the world and they need to be dropped immediately, their grandfather needs to be gang raped and thier mother is the source of syphillus. Above: Aussie rules or soft eighties porn?
The S15 culture is positive. Delve is flourishing, and now I read that the Waratahs are courting Mike Phillips or Dwayne Peel to replace Sam Burgess who is off to fill his coffers at Toulouse. GET OVER HERE BOYS...ALL OF YOU! S15 rugby is played the way Wales would flourish! If I could afford it, I would subsidise the import of Welsh players and give Gatland a backhander to change selection policy. Contrary to popular belief, no-one gives a flying fuck about Rugby Union in Australia. In Queensland its all about Rugby League, NSW is a bit of a mish-mash of a lot of League, and a little bit of Union and Aussie Rules. In the great state of Victoria, AFL/Aussie Rules is a religion. Perth is AFL too and only 59 people live in Canberra (and they're all politicians).

Above: The view that Australians had for hundreds of years no wonder theyre all out drinking beer or being rude to women

It's not a goldfish bowl like in Wales. Lee Byrne could go to the Sydney Mardi Gras and wear a pink flamingo suit and suck a few cocks, Henson could build a little hut on Bondi Beach and catch skin cancer and then get pissed on half a shandy, abuse some Sheilas and then get hoyed the fuck out of by their blokes. Andy Powell could get hammered on Tooheys and go and play human frogger in the middle of the motorway. No one would give a shit; Rugby League and AFL boys grab the headlines. Then they could concentrate on ENJOYING a brand of rugby that would bring out the best in them. Gatland should give them all a sabbatical for a season and then go back to Old South Wales and take the culture and the experience with them. I really believe we would be competitive against NZ, AUS and SA if this were the case.

This will never happen though and it is a sad thing...and it's because the European struture is fucking idiotic. Why? We follow a fucking idiotic schedule based around a flawed model...soccer. The first thing I would do would be to move the 6N to May. Then get rid of shit things like the LV Cup. Split the season; finish your domestic comps for Xmas and start your Heineken Cup mid Jan. At the moment half the team piss off to the Top 14 at the end of the season and get replaced by third-rate Kiwis so teams play in Europe on the basis of last season. If your season culminated with the 6N then the best players should be in there, not ones who are lacking match practise as they have been wrapped in cotton wool since October. Plus the weather would be awesome and you wouldn't have to spend 30 pound of your Edinburgh tour money on fucking jumpers.

I can dream, I can rant, but it is in vain. Tradition is the bain of progress, so until we respectfully say fuck off to tradition then we will not progress as a National Team or as a Hemisphere and will always be playing catch-up to our antipodien cousins and the orrible Saffa cunts. Hey anyway I dont give a shit, I get my citzenship in 2012 so it'll be Green and Gold so fuck you all, "WALLABIES!!!!"

Wiping your arse, Joe pasquale and the loyal Iranian

Above: Arsewipe

Above: another Arsewipe

Some of you sandal and sock wearing shit suckers have been emailing Lovechickens HQ noticing that I have yet to comment on what some called an embarrassing hammering in the recent LC arse wiping poll. Firstly an embarrassing hammering is being beaten up by Ant or Dec or possibly Joe Pasquale. Secondly – fuck you. The poll was scientific and posh and…and…and…..fuck you.
Above: in squeeky twats voice 'fuck you Terry, these are going in your eyes and then i am going to fucking hammer you' says Joe
Seriously the poll pretty much sures up what has been realised in pub up and down that one place in Fishguard. What was disappointing is that I know more than 24 of you actually read this blog because I get the viewing figures sent to me so therefore you are either pig ignorant, twats or some of the people who leave comments asking if

A: I want to date married women in Slough
B: Want a bigger penis
C: Want to give my money and bank details to a black businessman in Ghana and therefore receive a large portion of his £1 million fortune once he has rested it in my account for a bit
D: want a degree from the University of Ystalyfera

There is a new poll coming this week about your favourite full backs – show some interest and get voting.

Talking about stats – This week this blog has had people from Iran and Singapore reading. I wonder what they find interesting? Is it news of Gavin H, is it that they like being called names or is it they want to find out which way they should wipe their arse. What I do know is that they are welcome, and so are you loyal Lovechickens and chicken wannabees, enjoy Easter (except for you in Iran…)

Magners no more - bring on the bo.....

Above: Welsh regional rugby crowds - the Ospreys have a bigger squad than their average attendance
Well this week saw the ending of a relationship between Magners Irish cider and Celtic (plus Italian) rugby.

It was good while it lasted but they probably got fed up of sponsoring a competition with shit attendances that stopped and started throughout the season and with Irish sides who could play most of the season with people from the local chess club only to include the superstars for the last few weeks and STILL win the league or come in the top four. They were probably fed up of Welsh regions playing in huge mausoleums only half full and in Scotland where Edinburgh plays in front of 20 people in one of the biggest rugby specific grounds in the world.

Am I being too down on it? I don’t think so. The above is true and I think it’s the fault of the Welsh marketing teams who, while they have improved so much in the last few years would still find it hard to market bullet proof vests in Libya. There are upshots and there have been some cracking games, we only have to go back one week to see an amazing game between the Dragons and Ospreys. I think myself a tad unfair to the Irish sides that seem to have it sorted. Munster fans don’t go into apoplectic shock if they have to move ground and turn up to support whoever. The Irish derbies put Wales to shame and Leinster Munster is one of the great games in Europe.
I think interest in rugby in Wales is on the decline and the balance of fun, history, marketing and sense needs to be returned or…well three badly supported regions, never getting to the knock out stages of the Heineken with a national team at the same level as Italy or Scotland beckons.

Finally – Magners. What an annoying fucking product. It costs the same amount as a small east European car and people think its fine because it’s more than a pint. It’s a pint and a bit you fuck wits and most of that bit is ice. ICE! ICE? Since when has self watering down of alcoholic drinks been seen as the norm?
Above: This smug cockcheese puts ice in his cider - is that you? If it is - buck the fuck up....

Yum yum my Bass is lovely and cold because it’s come out of a chilled cream flow cask – what will make it better and me much more up my own arse and pretentious is to have some ice in it.

How much is that? Nearly £5? That’s brilliant because that’s a pint and a bit and now I can walk around with a glass full of ice and a bottle…god I love how adverts influence me.

Grow the fuck up – I can’t wait for the Celtic league to be sponsored by Snakebite….

Are you sitting comfortably? then i will begin....

Above: 'What does that say Grandad'? 'Minge Anthony...minge.....'

Yes I am starting off this blog with a bit of a story. It was a Thursday night and as was usual in the times of shenanigans I was out in the Philly for nurses night. My partner of crime that night was the Chocolate ‘I only punch prisoners that deserve or like it’ Seagull. In there were members of the Welsh rugby team getting bladdered. Nothing wrong with that although it want long before we were tuned in the World cup warm up games. There was one player who was absolutely twatted and for the sake of argument we will call him Ceri Sweeney who bears an incredible likeness to Ceri Sweeney the valley boy looking valley boy who it seems has played for most Welsh sides except the Scarlets, Aberystwyth and Welshpool.He was being a twat and pushing people out of the way and generally being the big ‘I am’. I didn’t like that at all probably because I was pissed, being a twat and wanted to push people out the way. When he came to push me with his shoulder I held firm and pushed back.
I would describe the next few seconds as me and him preparing to do battle in an almost gladiatorial, fighting cock manner. The Chocolate Seagull would describe it as two shit faced knobheads trying to focus on each other and it all ending in some deranged gurn-off while we tried to show that someone was holding us back when nobody actually was. The ace thing is is that Gareth Delve came between us to sort it out. (and the bloke called Sweeney who looks exactly like Ceri Sweeney was saved from probably the greatest hammering of his life). What I am trying to get to is that in the world of rugby there have always been complete tossers who believe their talent albeit untested outside their home village gives them the right to be ignorant arrogant twats. However I must say there are rugby players who are normally top blokes who drink too much sherbert and end up acting a way that would embarrass them.

Above: It was like this but i was a lot more handsomer and i didnt look like spastic -esque singer Paul Potts like the one on the right

Why my story? well in the last few weeks 3 past and present Welsh players have been in the news for being in trouble. A few weeks ago Bradley Davies was bailed for being involved in a fight down in little Birmingham or as it used to be called Saundersfoot. Last week tanned, small faced budgie, Gavin Henson was given a one week ban for fighting with his team mates whilst lovechild of Grotbags from Rodd Hull and Emu fame and Mike Tindall, Andy Powell is in trouble for being beaten up by ‘fans’ of ex-sport footballs QPR.

Does this mean that rugby players have lost their way and we have finally ended up like football. Of course not! rugby players have a long way to go before they end up like footballers who would easily evict their Nan by phone whilst dogging child prostitutes to death before a crowd of team mates and Russian/Arab millionaires. We haven’t gone down the road where its more important that your team of multi-millionaires that represents a place that isn’t in your country or a place that you have actually been to means a lot more to you than your national side and that you hate a player or a fan who supports a team representing a place that he’s never been to but is considered geographically a neighbour more than a paedophile.

Bradley Davies is only 24 and I haven’t heard anything about him being a dick. Gavin Henson is a dick and was probably punched because he was a dick. Andy Powell is so dense that he makes Gavin Henson look like Dr Robert Winston. He probably annoyed those football fans into punching him by insisting there was no such word as qpr or as he was probably saying it ‘cwopper’.
Above: Andy Powell looking at past team photos by the mantelpiece in Wasps rugby club

Anyway what I haven’t been trying to say before I went off on one again – is that there are complete cocks out there who think their special and need to be brought down a peg and there are rugby boys who just misbehave once in a while – you can’t group them and nor should you. I think I will blog on this further later on.

The Heineken cup...um no its another rant!!

Above: Orange fizzoged dunce-meister Henson reckons that dancing in the semi final of a celebrity dance contest is better than winning the Grandslam which is like saying having a tesco chicken salad meal deal with prawn coctail crisps and a bottle of fanta is better than receiving the nobel peace prize

So rugby wise whats been happening in the world of late?

Well I suppose we should at least look at the Heineken cup quarter finals. In complete honesty I did not watch them all but then again that’s not going to stop me commentating on what somebody else wrote about them in the papers the next day.

I’ll start of with the pesky French or in the case of Toulon, the pesky UN. You would think that coming from the same group as the Ospreys they would have learnt that you can have the best players in the world but that doesn’t necessarily make you the best team – that is something completely different. I have an idea about why they may have failed to reach the dizzy heights their bosses, fans, players and world press have laid out for them in a murmuration of expectation.

Its because when they all go out after their match for red wine and shit fish soup and free plates of crisps (for all you Americans that’s ‘chips’ but in our language chips are a Scottish Health product and part of their five a day with Iron bru, fried eggs, dripping, budget no frills whisky and petty extreme violence) and then they get to their tiny Toulon bar with French hookers (not of the Raphael Ibanez kind but the haggard old prossy maked up like a Swansea girl who is in her 60’s kind) in the corner and who have they got to start the singing and partying?

Jonny Wilkinson and Gavin Henson.

One is admittedly class while the other one has it but has yet to fulfill his potential. Wilkinson will go down as one of the all type greats, people concentrate on his kicking but he offers so much more but as lovely a chap as he may be he is boring as fuck. Telling Wilko off for fucking up fuzzy duck and watching him deck three fingers of high energy nutrient shake before he goes off and practices kicking again would be shit. He’s not going to get pissed, show his cock or set one of the boys on fire is he?

Above: Phillip Saint-Andre listens to an hour of feedback from Jonny Wilkinson

As for Henson he’d probably be stuck in the toilets like some retarded Budgie looking at himself in the mirror trying to kiss himself. I would call him thick as mince but I saw mince on tuffers team in Question of sport and he answered more questions that ‘tangerine’ Gav, he also got more laughs then him as well – in fact sue Barker laughed so much she started lactating. This is the man who said that he wanted to completely ignore all the goodwill given to him by the Ospreys and leave them because he wanted to be outside an intense rugby bubble and be close to his kids, so he spends 2 weeks being shit in Saracens before moving to the intenser bubble of southern French rugby and being even further away from his kids.

It doesn’t matter, he probably doesn’t think that he’s in another country anyway and because he’s so thick thinks that their not speaking French but as usual speaking English faster than he can understand. The only reason he spent so much time in OK magazine is because it was the only one he could spell. He is getting better though, he used to be so boring that he’d make one of Fat Mikes 5 hour talks on Croesyceiliog seem like Brian Blessed and Oliver Reed shouting shagging stories at each other in the middle of a German drinking hall to the music of Queen’s ‘it’s a kind of magic’.

Right what was I talking about..the Heineken Cup? Fuck that, I’ll do that another time……..

PS A murmuration is actually a collective noun for starlings

PPS what the fuck is wrong with you fuckers - get voting on the poll or i'm getting Big Will around your house to shit in your sink

i know i'm a bit late on this one but.....

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/south-african-rugby-player-charged-with-axe-murders-2258769.html If he is found guilty will he be forced to drink 5 fingers plus deck a dirty pint - he will also be fined 2 fingers for not asking the chairman permission to go on a killing spree and 3 fingers for showing teeth

6 nations continuation

Above: The Irish teams headquarters are pretty quiet after the victory against the English the night before

Well after the last blog I had to sit down and rest the old blood vessels but here I am back to give you the low down on the 6 nations. As previously said I think it was pretty shit but there were some highlights.

1. Friday rugby has been put to bed for a while. I haven’t the time or energy to get started on the dreaded 6 nations on a Sunday rant but thank Gareth Edwards on high that they have ditched Friday rugby. Great for people with no friends, shit for people who love watching international rugby as it should be – with friends in a pub or at the game with a day of shenanigans and tom foolery behind or ahead of them. WRU Chairman for life David Pickering claimed he loved Friday rugby which shows that behind that amiable façade there is in fact, a complete twat.

2. attacking minded players – ignore the fact that they didn’t actually do it much but amongst the ‘kick or drive it up the guts first’ type plans that the coaches and teams actually adopted players like Richie Gray, Sean Lamont and Joe Ansbro, Foden and Ashton (cock), Parra and Medaud, O driscoll, Parrisse and Bergamasco and of course Shane Williams

3. A couple of games cut the mustard as well. I enjoyed the England/Scotland game, I thought that the display by the Irish against the English was very impressive but the game and result of the tournament was Italy 22 France 21. I didn’t get as excited watching any of the Wales matches. It was a big win and one they deserved. It still didn’t get Lievremental the sack but it may have settled a French side down and given them at least a little shot at the World cup this autumn.

So what have we learnt this Six nations. One thing for sure is while New Zealand is hit by an earthquake, Japan is on the verge of making one of its own disaster movies seem implausible by being too tame and the Arab world is on the brink of civil war and the world wide recession is gaining momentum rather than abating is that we still find our priorities firmly placed in getting out, getting on it and drinking with friends and strangers alike all under the camouflage of watching international rugby.

My version

Player of the tournament – Brian O Driscoll – even having a shit game meant a pretty good one by any others standards. Mention in despatches goes to Parrisse and Ashton (wanker)

The ‘here I am rescuing kittens, saving orphans, feeding the third world whilst bailing out the banks and sorting out the middle east question’ award goes to Morgan Stoddart who scores 2 tries, one against the eventual winners, saves another during a close match, plays well above himself and then gets dropped…..

Mention in dispatches goes to the Welsh props. Wouldn’t you be fucked off if the person you replaced in the team had more mentions than you actually during a game. At one point I was expecting this from one of Scrum V or the BBC:

Commentator 1 – on comes the Welsh team and those 2 props whose names I cant be bothered to say because they are not as good as Gethin Jenkins and Adam Jones

Commentator 2 – you are right, they really aren’t but I suppose these spastics will have to do – how are the opposition going to play against these half wits who aren’t Gethin Jones and Adam Jones….

5 minutes later 'What a terrific start and now we have a scrum on the half way line and there we see not Adam jones, Matthew Rees and not Gethin Jones binding together for the first scrum'

Biggest fruit loop - Leivremental – the manager whose capped so many people that the French training camp is the only one where everybody wears nametags. Everybody knows the French are cowards but its very strange when it comes from their coach. Wales best player – with 100% pass rate and nearly an assist for one of the few tries, the ball boy who passed the ball for the illegal Welsh try against Ireland takes some beating

Above: Was this the 11 year old ball boy who gave his ball to Matthew Rees? No its 11 year old looking legendary former Wales fly half who Welsh fans once thought was gay because he dyed his hair blonde

So thats it really for the next few months i will be sticking to posts about The European cups, club rugby, the traditional hammering of Wales by England in the World cup warm up and of course how i would love to see a tag team smack down between the Krankies and Cannon & Ball. All this with up to date rugby news, rampant xenophobia and name calling up to the World cup.

6 nations - what i think - part 1

Above: 'no Cheyanne i wouldn't give a fuck if you paid ME £2, i'm not getting on you'

I don’t know where to start on this six nations but some of it was akin to picking the prettiest prossy in the wash and wank, finding out you were the final punter of a very long and fruitful shift and remembering you muffed her out. There was great expectation, you think you enjoyed a lot of it but in the end you have this awful feeling and a horrible taste in your mouth. Well that’s you that is. No offence to the fox hunting, inner city Bankers but England were not a Grand slam team but that says a lot more about their shit opponents than themselves. They were the best of a bad bunch and I don’t think their complete bumming by a rampant Irish side on the final weekend will do them any harm. I would say though that Foden and Youngs promised so much and delivered sweet fanny fuck all. Flood and Jonny did well and so did that giant twat Ashton. The English pack fronted up and was up until the last game rarely found wanting.

Above: The English rugby team at training 'I say Foden stopping bumming Flood and give us chaps a shot what what!'

Actually while we are on the subject of that complete knob head (Yes I still blame him for making me have a shit position in the fantasy rugby league although I was proved right as he never scored again and I beat Ski in the last weekend as I said I would – Aston and Ski – giant meaty oboe players) I do think after scoring that many tries he should have been up there with Brian O Driscoll and possible Parisse as the player of the 6 Nations. It went instead to Masi. What the fuck!! Yes he scored twice and one of those in the most exciting game of the championship but he was hardly fucking Campese. This is what happens when you put things to a public vote. Democracy is shit as 90% of people are thick chaffs. Not everybody out there is like us and to most people the only voting they ever consider is when the X factor is on. If I wanted to be Prime Minister next time I would ditch all policies and say that I am doing this because…….i don’t know…….I grew up in the hood and my bruvver was shot like innitt in his face and my muvvar worked 28 hour shifts in the plastic dog shit factory but had to look after 17 kids and I is doing the politics fing for her memory and the memory of my half faced bruvvar whose name was like EZ Kenneth or some shit. Wankers – anyway – yes indeed. This years six nations man of the series was put out to the public vote and the only players involved were the ones nominated for man of the match which is incredibly pointless and stupid – nobody was told about it except obviously everybody with a computer in Masi’s home town. Right I think that’s enough ranting for now and I will continue slagging off………I mean commentating fairly on the plethora of skill and running ambition in this six nations later.

Hangovers....no not your shit ones - real ones

Above: The perils of sock abuse - this is what happens if a hangover runs into Tuesday

Ok, I’m really sorry I have been away and youre lives have been pretty empty without my moaning attacks on anybody and everybody. The reason is is that I have been living in a world of pain following the stag do of high pitched C3PO Fuzzy Williams. Other than myself being involved in what I like to call ‘intensely xenophobic incident’ it went swimmingly. An excellent event, organised like a German Blitzkrieg with more alcohol consumed than by your average Scottish tramp.

I was unfortunate to room with 2 Lovechickens plus another. The Chairman who mithered me about staying up late and when I did try and stay out late he went home. Chris Parry who was telling me how to get dressed and how to sleep and I also had the pleasure of meeting Brian, who is sort of an Ammanford version of Dolph Lundgren.

The reason I write this is to explain the dreadful stages of my hangover and its machinations. This isn’t necessary for the last hangover but possible for a generic hangover.

Phase 1 – the day after.

There are two different versions depending on where you are. If at home – get up feeling like shit. Lay down the law to Mrs Rooster, not in an authoritive way but in a pleading, almost crying way. Some girlfriends and wives are complete cocks and seem to think that this is the day that they want to do something and force their partners into doing shit that they wouldn’t want to do when they are ok never mind when they are hanging out of their arse. These are also the partners who wonder why their men look forward to spending time away from them – my advice would be to bin them because their shit, they are also the ones who say ‘I hope the boys don’t think I am a nag or a bitch’ we do – you are.

Above: Coronation Streets Kevin Webster shows the danger of wanking 7 times the day after England Wales 1987

What we want to do is roll down stairs in jimmy jams or pants with possibly a t shirt on depending on the climate and watch telly. If your missus is a diamond she will go to the spar where she will get

1. milkshake

2. lucozade

3. wispa

4. monster munch beef crisps

5. Wales on Sunday

I do not answer any phone calls or texts – especially from my mother asking individually who was there and then individually asking if they enjoyed themselves like so

Mother: Was Phil Kite there?

Me: Yes

Mother: did he have a nice time?

Me:Yes

Mother: Was Ski there?

Me: Yes

Mother: did he have a nice time?

Me:yes

Mother: Was Tew there?

Me: no

Mother: Oh……….was Dev there ?

And so on and so forth until I lose it – so I have learnt to ignore all forms of communication. So I snack, scratch, watch telly and snooze. I feel enormously horny but feel to ill for rubs and tickles. I go to bed about 10 and sleep the sleep of death.

However, when I am away I wake up pissed because of checkout and then walk around as if I am wrapped in bubble wrap and rubbing my face as if I have taken ecstasy. For me the tour ends when I go to bed the night before and I feel like crying when other people drink. This is because I am not drinking for the enjoyment of it I am drinking to get pissed and the thought of spending all day drinking to end up drunk watching telly in my own house does not appeal. All day I think about rubs, tickles and head strokes whilst watching scrum V.

Phase 2 The next day The Rooster always has this day off. This is the day where you have to start acknowledging real life. Sock abuse is at an all time high and around midday comes the darkness. Beer depression so bad that even when you see people falling over and really hurt themselves, it only makes you smile rather than point and laugh. Just like some of us wipe our arses standing up and others sitting down (weird twats) some people are just more prone to the black dog than others. Many people know that no matter how quiet the night is you think it was you who:

1. made a twat of yourself

2. did something to spoil the occasion

3. killed loads of prostitutes in old London town during the 1880s

4. stupidly attack the Soviet Union thus bring them into the war and negating the great advances you made in western Europe opening yourself to a 2 front war

You realise that you spent so much money when the back bed room is crying out for a new pair of curtains and that even though you were curled up in a ball with sick down your top, some girl must have fancied you and you therefore are the most evil dick in the world. There is nobody there with you from the said night out to put you right and therefore it gets worse. Sock abuse and band of brothers box set gets you only so far and then its back to the self pity. Headache relinquishes its hold by the evening and the Monday night sleep is the one you’ve been waiting for.

Unfortunately for me, this time my hangover lasted til Tuesday, I had 8 hours respite before getting almost fatal heart burn, then my arse decided to go for a piss and then I had a throat infection. Its still sore now but here I am giving you what you want and that’s my few on this years Six Nations. See you next week you giant Bumders!

Translated from the Geordie - here's Mitch!!!

Above: Mitch - 'away ya foockers i cannae git doon fram this far legged thing'

Righto. Chubby Wan Kenobi has been at us for predictions for the weekend so here's mine like.

The Irish have a team of good rugby players. But unfortunately they're playing like they've been field testing the new upgraded Mogadon. For example, Sexton Onion Face's big bag of skills seem be bashing together and cancelling each other out and he's been a bit of a disappointment all round unfortunately.
A lot has been said about the potential loss of Mike 'takes-it-in' Tindall's steadying hand on the tiller but to be fair the English back line has more caps than a chavs wedding so I reckon we'll be alright. Let's start with Banahan and see if he can break any more genetically weak Celtic backrow forwards. I'm much more worried about our scrum halfs doing a half marathon before they PASS THE FRIGGIN BALL OUT.

Bogtrotters 16 - Stout Hearted Doughty Englishmen 24


The Frogs have been having a shite run out this year. What happened to the team that beat the All Blacks? Their bloody coach, that's what. I reckon he's got a big tombola wheel out the back and he just spins it to generate his team selection for the week. How can a team with so much talent in depth (except stand off where they only seem to produce shaky, confidence players) mange to throw away games like they are. I reckon, badly as they're playing, they'll still beat a Wales who seem even more poorly led. What's happened to your bollocks lads? And with Shane Williams looking like his Mam's keeping him in till he does his maths homework I fear for their try scoring ability. And with hard-core Cymraig, Fergatron Belt Overhang of the West, emigrating to France in order to be closer to the team he really loves I think the supporters feel the same way as me.

This Week's 15 Frenchmen 20 - Wails 12


I have never cheered a non-English side like I have the Italians this tournament. They deserved to win against Ireland and they woulda done too if it hadna been for that meddling kick. Last week they beat France by everyone playing at their highest potential, not just letting Parisse make all the hard yards. Despite Bergomasco routinely squeaking out a fart as part of his kicking run up I have liked the way they've taken a gutsy run at each game. I was roaring at the final whistle - champion. In that match though, I reckon they've already played their equivalent of the final and they may well be off the boil for the Scots.
The Sweaties. Lord, where do I start. Suffice to say they only seem to have one player on the pitch and that's Gray. He's at 2nd row but he has an eye for space and open play that makes me think they should develop him into a nr8. He'll be like Chabal but good. The Jocks really need a win to pick their morale out of the bins in the gents' bogs so I reckon they might make it here. It'll be an Ireland style win though, scraped out of desperation in the last few minutes. (Secretly I really hope Italy wins).

Sweaty Socks 15 - Carbonara Chianti - 12

If I'm right do I win £5?

response by Fuzzy's best man - Gregster

Above: Fuzz 'hiya luke, Hows your mother?'

It is an honour to be given the opportunity to respond to Love Chicken RFC on behalf of Adrain - "Fuzzy Talk Fast " Williams.

It is a mediocre honour for me to be press ganged into the role of Best Man for C3PO although as is my want and due to the current austere times and those two wankers - "Dave and Nick" - I have nothing better to do!

In all honesty it is only by luck that we are travelling to Toulouse this weekend - France win by lots I am afraid - due to the Nuclear disaster in Japan. I had to remonstrate quite forcibly with the Emperor (Hirihito not Gareth Edwards) that this was an important trip for Bod and he could not be used by the Japaneese people as some sort of large reflective nuclear shield due to his milk bottle complexion!!

Anyway I hope this clarifies any issues you may have with C3PO and I will see you on the Ice!

As they say in France - no not wheres the reverse on this tank - Bon Sour or the like!

Gregster

hmm i'll have the deep fried mars bar with a lovely glass of chianti please

Above - as well as arse touching, shit driving perverts, the Italians are famous for the export of wine and fast cars

Well it didn’t take mystic Meg or some genius for the BBC to work out the Scotland Italy game would for the bottom place and therefore get it out the way. They have competed for it so many times they actually think it’s an Italy/Scotland trophy. However I am going to stick my neck out here and say it’s going to be an absolute humdinger of a match.

Below: Tramps, the biggest growth industry in Scotland and with deep fried anything and Taggart, its biggest export

Both teams pulled up their collective socks and decided not to play like huge Joeys last weekend. If I am going to be honest I still have a little bit of a semi on about the Italian result. It was also nice to see Shrek’s twin brother Nick Mallet give a winning interview for a change. Scotland must be a little irked that they produced their best display against the best side and away from home but maybe they should stop being irked and be a little embarrassed the stupid porridge jockeys. The problem that both these teams have is that they have a small number of players and professional teams to choose from and until you sort that out, success or some sort of levelling out of performance will not follow.

Its at home and Scotland have got the players to win this game but if you look at the both sides and consider private battles such as Castrogiavanni and any of the Scottish props, or Parrise and Brown, Masi and Paterson then the Scots should worry but they have the giraffe like man in the second row and I think Lamont and Ansbro who must be the darkest man in Scotland are class players – are they lifting play or are they being dragged down to the teams level.

Scotland if they shake their malaise and win by 12

first prediction from the Phantom

Above: Phantom 'love bite! love bite! love bite!'

The next prediction is from someone who is from over the other side of the Dyke but has been exiled on this side of it.

hmm talking about lesbians - when i was a teenager i thought that Lesbians were just really really hot women who loved getting off with each other and loved men watching them do it even more especially when the man joined in - fuck, the Army really did sort out that misconception.

Below: Lesbians on Goodwick beach in West Wales 'Neetu chandra' is Lesbianese for 'where is the ice cream van?'

The phantom of the Opera (why? Because he hangs around theatres in the back ground a lot) gives his predictions

Very generous about the England game. I thought it was dire. Happy with two points but if we play like that in Ireland we’ll probably only just win! (JOKE).

Ok I’ve been pretty bad at predictions so far but I have got all England wins right! Here goes:

Scotland 12 v Italy 17
Ireland 15 v England 18
France 25 v Wales 16

Philosophy:

Scotland despite showing England up today have played the worst rugby of the 6 Nations. Italy will hopefully have the momentum to take out the jocks. After all they could so easily be going for their 4th win out of five on performances so far.

England were shit on sunday...I mean really shit and if they play like that on Saturday Ireland will definitely win. HOWEVER I’m being optimistic and suggest Lawes and Croft to start, a real focus and a well due win over the Papists! I think they can do it.

France were unbelievably bad against Italy. If they have a modicum of pride they will come out raging against Wales and will be too strong to live with. If however they play like they did on saturday they will struggle. I do think that the French will perform as they can and will be in "wounded animal" mode to quote a popular cliché.

Overall I think looking on to the world cup the big three will be pissing themselves at how shit the N Hem are in comparison....

I haven't got a fucking clue how to post onto blog so this is my piece.

Toodle pip old bean.

Hoozah - its Fuzzy's stag do

Above: hiya how's your mother? high pitched voiced law supremo fuzzy as a child

This weekend The Rooster is off to France, to Toulouse to be exact for Lovechicken extraordinaire Fuzz Williams’ stag do. He will be joined by friends across the world (of the M4 corridor) and 2 other Lovechickens, Rob camel eyelashes the chairman Jones and Chris Parry who used to be in the Bee Gees but annoyed his brothers so much that he was forced out, changed his name and now lives a life of telling people how to do things in Newport.

Above: Chris Parry (far left) in his youth (50's) hanging around the Pick in Ammanford telling people how to do things

Fuzz Williams is tall and very muscular, his head is out of proportion on the small side with the rest of his body and because he is ginger has been forced to shave all his hair off.

His voice is so high pitched that peoples ear’s bleed when they are near his conversations. Before his voice broke it was so high pitched that Mr and Mrs Williams kept him in a room covered in egg boxes. These years in isolation made him into one of the whitest men outside Scotland and also a complete header. Once released from captivity Fuzz was snapped up by British telecom as one of two people who could communicate directly to computers and faxes and in exchange they gave him a law degree.

One of my favourite recollections of Fuzzy out with the Lovechickens was when he spilt his Strongbow and Black over a girls virgin white dress –she cried.

Of course there will be absolutely no stories whatsoever to tell you next week so dont bother asking.

Injuries? try getting a one inch punch for a small spillage!

Above: Hey yoouuuu guuuuyyyysss!! will Mike Tindall be ready for Saturday or will he be helping lots of kids find One eyed Willy's treasure and escape from his mother and two brothers?

Brief 6 Nations news before I go onto anything else - Some injury concerns and hits these past few days.

In England. Hogwarts old school boys and general willy bullies are panicking at the thought of losing inspirational and exceptionally ugly world cup winner Mike Tindall. They say that you should look at the mother in law to see how the wife will end up but I would be more worried if I was Princess Anne thinking about how my Grandchildren were going to look.

In Ireland. I am not making this up but Irish scrum Tomos O leary has been ruled out by a sled injury. They reckon its because of straps or something but I reckon its to do with him and ‘fat’ Jonny Hayes hurtling down a massive hill on a tray and ‘fat’ Jonny hayes decided to fall off the back thus spoiling the equilibrium of the ‘sled’ and O leary ending up in a tree. The other scrum half redden is still recovering from having a ball kicked straight in his face - one of the highlights of the Wales Ireland game.

Below: sled accident: 'Hayes you fat twat'

In Scotland, undeterred that he has actually got a girl’s name Kelly brown is hopeful to be available for the wooden spoon decider against Italy on Saturday.

Finally In Wales, Black arm bands are the order of the day when all round god like winger and giver to charities and saver of orphans Shane Williams pulls out of the French game. Somebody told me I was a 100% down on the Welsh side of late. I wasn’t – I am now.

Below: Shane

Mon Dieu je suis off mon trolley et vous all are complete merde

Above: Marc Leivrement 'ze next team i weel peek will have ze Derwyn Jones in and of course we need a Welsh hooker...........'

Its official and I think total vindication of what I have been saying for weeks. Marc Leivrement has completely lost it. He hands out caps like Ches used to hand out the clap, i am now waiting for King of the Gays to get his first French cap because he once wore a beret and can spell bagutte....baget......baguette..

This is some of what he said about his players after the game against Italy –

"They are lacking in courage. They are good guys but cursed with what is obviously cowardice," he added. "They are not even capable of admitting to their own mistakes. Perhaps it is a trend among the new generation."

Below: 'Sorry Marc what was that? Oh i'm a coward am I........what? but i'm a good guy as well - oh thats ok then....'

fucking weird....

Above: Italians after the match - get in the pub you silly cunts

What a game, what a finish and what a knob Leivre-mental is!! While we have been all dissing the spaghetti eaters, with a little turn in fortunes this tournament, Italy could have been going into this week as championship contenders. Not bad when they have only 38 people to pick from and 32 of them are Argentinean.

The game was good, the result historical. For once it wasn’t all on Parrisses and burgermasters shoulders but others such as Masi, Lo Cicero and Zanni stepped up to the plate and delivered. The French on the other hand did not. Like the Irish a few hours later, the French delivered all the zip but could not get the result. It was ironic that during the match the Italian scrum suffered whilst their backs attacked from deep – fucking weird.

If any of the home nations pulled off a great a win as this the supporters would go on the mother of all benders and the pubs would be drunk dry – It Italy they all get their flags and get in their cars or on their scooters and drive around the city centre tooting their horns and cheering – knobs – what a fucking waste of a win.

It reminds me of what legend (inside of Wales, unheard of outside) Max Boyce said about England having an open top bus after winning the World cup. If Wales would have won it, each player would have had their own open top bus and Shane Williams’ mothers hairdresser would have been given the OBE.


In the Irish paper the Independent one hack called the French team one of the worst in recent history, I’m not sure if I agree. Chabal is a one trick elephant and that winger Hugot looks like he needs a bloody good wash but they still have a back row who are world class. They need a side that is settled that knows the plan. Parra isn’t shit and while he hasn’t reached the heights of a Castagneide or Camberabero he is a class player. The French pack destroyed the world class Italian pack yesterday. Its not over for the French, not be a long chalk but will it be for their coach?

Above: I don't give a flying fuck if the Wales/Ireland game is on i player - dont make me watch it again says Quentin the youngest of the Underwoods

The Wales Ireland match was also fucking weird. Some people thought it was extremely exciting and yes it was but only in the last minute where Paddy Wallace decided to butcher a try because he wanted to score closer to the posts. I would have scored the easy try and then put all the pressure of Sexton thus remaining the hero and using that to pull birds in Cardiff that night. Surely score first. It makes as much sense as the time this bloke tried to tell me that eyes were not balls but in fact the front of tubes to the back of the head. Because I didn’t have a book on eyes on me, he therefore claimed my arguments to be spurious at best…the thick fat fuck.

Back to the game. I thought it was like watching two teams of special needs kids playing British bulldog with oven gloves on. In the first half it looked like Wales were going to be blown away and every time the ball went out to the backs they lacked ideas. Lee Byrne, who resembled one of those cows that had ‘mad cow disease’ must remember to leave his Nans slippers at home and wear boots. Even though they won any supporter of Wales has to be worried about the execution, flair and vision of this Welsh team. Would they have beaten their world cup opponents this autumn, Samoa or Fiji playing like that? – I don’t think so.

The Irish have some sort of grievance that Mikey Phillips try was not disallowed but it wasn’t so suck it up you moaning pikeys. I suspect that if O Gara had have stayed on he might have made a difference even though his kicking, like Sextons, was akin to the kicking of that one legged mental twat that recently divorced Paul McCartney.

What I am surprised by is how Wales played so negatively and won. Hook was boringly amazing and controlled the game well. It was also the first time I have watched an entire game involving Mike Phillips where I haven’t seen the lip synching of ‘fuck off’ in.

Its incredible that by the final whistle my feeling was of some sort of grubby relief. It was like I’d been on the end of a gang raping by King of the Gays and Dev - It wasn’t enjoyable one bit, the levels of skill on show were substandard and I was glad it was over. Contrast this to the feelings of elation I am sure many of us rugby fans felt at the end of the first game of the weekend and again comes that feeling of ‘fucking weird’.

Now welcome to fucking weird part 3. Everybody said that this could be the Scots day if they were on top of every part of their game but I think we all believed that they were to be bum raped by the English. They weren’t. They were beaten by a better side and one that kneaded out a win. It was a game for the purest but as a neutral was one I enjoyed. Stand outs – hmmm not too sure but Max Evans’ try was a peach and to continue the fruit analogy Hape was a plum. Actually Ed Milliband lookalike had a lot more of the ball but seems a little one dimensional. Care and Wilkinson looked good when they came on but the Scottish replacements didn’t add much.

I think if there was such a thing as an Andy Robinson Cam then the BBC would get a lot more people watching the game. Introduce this then and stop putting internationals on a Friday and Sunday you set of twats.

Above: 'forward pass! FORWARD FUCKING PASS'! Andy Robinson finally loses it in HQ

So what the hell do we get from this weekend. Not one team played well this weekend, it was mistakes ago-go from start to finish. The teams that excelled are meeting up next week to fight for the wooden spoon while the team marching towards a Grand slam doesn’t seem worthy of the mantle. The only team able to steal the title from them is even more shambolic. However amongst the gloom there was light, individual performance and more than anything, close, hard fought competitions that make the 6 nations what it is and with the fight back of the Scottish and win by the Italians more of a competition than its ever been.

Fucking weird - Roll on Super Saturday!

My predictions from Big Doug - our Viking warleader

Above: Yes Doug you can get arrested for that sort of shit over here

Predictions are as follows:

French wine beats Italian wine by a cunt hair, but Italian food surpasses French cuisine by the narrowest of pubic follicles

The French by 15 points on the pitch

The Welsh by 3 points at home simply because O’Gara will have his leg broken by a deranged Welsh supporter between the Team Bus and the changing rooms and no one will noticed until he limps onto the pitch at the 70 minute mark to replace young Sexton with the Irish trailing by three and a line out at the Welsh 22, and misses the drop goal attempt with his off foot so badly, that he completely misses the ball, collapses to the ground, and is stretchered off with a bad case of acute embarrassment.

England by 20 points in Twickers – this will be an ugly match, the only compelling reason to watch it is to see if the English can stay motivated enough about the Calcutta Cup to generate a lopsided score line. The Scot’s can be tuff in defense, but have little offense (see Murrayfield, 12 Feb. 2011, scoring 3 points while playing with a 2 man advantage). However, all will not come up roses for the English. I can see it now, Ashton will drop one ball in mid air thus fulfilling martin’s nightmarish dreams, and will also miscalculate his spacing on another scoring attempt and crash into the post in midair thus dislodging the post and his shoulder from its socket and touching down for the try simultaneously, thus hitting the trifecta which the drunken Scotsman with his kilt lost and a bottle firmly within his grasp in the upper stands had gotten odds of 3000 to 1 on a 20 pound bet, all of which would have been magic until in his drunken celebration he careens off the 3 staid Englishman in the seats around him and hurtles to the lower stands all the while Singing Scotland the Brave without spilling a drop. Film on BBC 2 at 11 PM.