:-D
Last night was a tale of two thoroughly disagreeable men getting their just desserts. The Chelsea-Barcelona game was dominated by several borderline penalty shouts, none of which the ref gave Chelsea's way. Statistically the billionaire's boys can count themselves unlucky, but the ref's biggest mistake was sending Eric Abidal off after Monsieur Anelka had quite blatantly tripped himself up. Chelsea were unable to put the 10-man opponents away and paid the ultimate price in the best - and funniest - possible finish.
If anyone had any doubts as to why the West Londonders are so roundly despised, they only had to witness the disgraceful petulance of Ballack, Terry and especially Drogba, who could have put the tie to bed if he'd actually finished a chance or not gone down like a sack of shite at the slightest touch. He looked utterly demented after the final whistle with his charging around and hurling abuse at the officials, not to mention the delightful "fucking disgrace" remark he made in full view of the cameras. Take a long hard look at yourself son, that's all I can say.
The same applies to Geordie gobshite and - hurray! - latest Apprentice reject Philip Taylor, who I refer to as such purely as it would piss him right off, being from a different bit of the North-East and all. His performance in last night's episode was truly appalling, firstly during the actual task when he was far too busy lusting after Kate to even attempt any sales, and then in the boardroom when his demented (that word again) vendetta against Lorraine earned him a well-deserved firing.
As someone commenting on some other blog said, it was as if the preening pillock couldn't understand how such a plain person could possibly get the better of him. Despite also contributing the square root of bugger all to last night's task, Kate still looks set to win this year. She wisely sat there and took a verbal beasting last night rather than go off on a wildly delusional rant against the project manager like her sweetie did. It does seem odd that she's reportedly still seeing dear Phil though, as surely with looks like that she could pretty much have her pick of the entire heterosexual male population. Maybe those two honking accents are attracted to each other like two all-powerful electromagnets.
To complete a highly satisfying evening, my friend gave me a copy of the new Maccabees album, large parts of which sound almost comically identical to Arcade Fire's Neon Bible. Fortunately for them, enough energy and craft has been put into the album to put it beyond shameless pastiche - just barely. I'd be disappointed if the follow-up to Neon Bible really did sound like this, but it's tremendous fun playing spot-the-song-that's-been-ripped-off. Album of the year so far, for the sheer brass neck of it all.
If anyone had any doubts as to why the West Londonders are so roundly despised, they only had to witness the disgraceful petulance of Ballack, Terry and especially Drogba, who could have put the tie to bed if he'd actually finished a chance or not gone down like a sack of shite at the slightest touch. He looked utterly demented after the final whistle with his charging around and hurling abuse at the officials, not to mention the delightful "fucking disgrace" remark he made in full view of the cameras. Take a long hard look at yourself son, that's all I can say.
The same applies to Geordie gobshite and - hurray! - latest Apprentice reject Philip Taylor, who I refer to as such purely as it would piss him right off, being from a different bit of the North-East and all. His performance in last night's episode was truly appalling, firstly during the actual task when he was far too busy lusting after Kate to even attempt any sales, and then in the boardroom when his demented (that word again) vendetta against Lorraine earned him a well-deserved firing.
As someone commenting on some other blog said, it was as if the preening pillock couldn't understand how such a plain person could possibly get the better of him. Despite also contributing the square root of bugger all to last night's task, Kate still looks set to win this year. She wisely sat there and took a verbal beasting last night rather than go off on a wildly delusional rant against the project manager like her sweetie did. It does seem odd that she's reportedly still seeing dear Phil though, as surely with looks like that she could pretty much have her pick of the entire heterosexual male population. Maybe those two honking accents are attracted to each other like two all-powerful electromagnets.
To complete a highly satisfying evening, my friend gave me a copy of the new Maccabees album, large parts of which sound almost comically identical to Arcade Fire's Neon Bible. Fortunately for them, enough energy and craft has been put into the album to put it beyond shameless pastiche - just barely. I'd be disappointed if the follow-up to Neon Bible really did sound like this, but it's tremendous fun playing spot-the-song-that's-been-ripped-off. Album of the year so far, for the sheer brass neck of it all.
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