oh my goodness, they are still at it yet again.
and the rather wee-minded pettiness displayed by some scot's with regard to "british equates english" statement - is not only appalling, but pathetic also. but what is surely more pathetic is this same bunch of amoebae accusin the english for their lack of sense of humour.
i'm not aware that the "support anyone but england" line is a tonge-in-cheek wind-up. that sounds more like baiting. especially so when uttered by some wee tennis playing bairn.
anyhow, are the english to be blamed for the "british/english" equation? when england happened to be the more/most powerful nation - with its own navy to boot - for yonk's?
at the same time when the scots emselves were busy slaughterin each other: the lowlander's v highlander's, the treacherous campbells v the mctavishes [hey, that's, erm, yers truly] and just anybody else, stealing one another's sheep near the borders.. etc etc..
so em cheatin italiano's are at it again, doin what they know best - ie: diving inside the penalty box. or was it the 6- or 9-yard box?
soz, i didn't watch the match at all, so i had to rely on em commentator's on live radio. together with the ref collaboratin, em cheat's made sure they get their way. even if it meant play acting. and they *conveniently* won a spot-kick. on injury time, mind.
wankin bastard's. and how cruel it is for em Aussies who played rather well.
or so i thought.
right, so em england player's will wilt yet again playin Ecuador as soarin temperatures is expected. eh?
England will also have to prepare for boiling temperatures as forecasts indicate they may be playing in 34 degrees Celsius, having struggled to cope with such conditions against Paraguay in their opening game
nobody suggested that they go train in the tropics before the tourney?
oh, and what mighty exaggeration by the journo. i thought *boiling* temperature is 100 degrees C?
nitpicky, moi?
i know, my reputation is at stake ere
as what i'm gonna say may shock some of you's - or probably not. i cannot even believe it meself, so imagine how shockin it is to me.
oztrylia would be the second team i'm rootin for in this world cup - gasp! other's haven't impressed me so far. and as yet. so how come?
it's not because of a long-time matey who's been sending me piccies of oztrylia's win each time - the irony is he's kiwi. well, it's all due to the followin bit made by the team gaffer, off the 365:
"A lot of the players have not had much experience at international level and a lot of them have not had much success at club level either," he said, explaining just why this result meant so much to the Australian players.
so now you's know, eh?
moreover, it's the same gaffer who helped em korean's reach the semi-finals at the last world cup. so i won't be surprised if em aussies would go that far also. hopefully they won't behave as if they'd already won the cup if they do.
or even dare think they are a bluemarble soccer power.
beware!
another battle of bannockburn/culloden/independence/wotsit is imminent.
judging by the comment's made by english, scots, a sprinkling of others - and a canuck of scottish descent [which is not unexpected, knowin a handful of em] to boot; certain individual's on both sides of the border not only have massive chips on their shoulder's still; both are also equally guilty of condescension, misplaced arrogance and xenophobia.
i have had the utter pleasure/displeasure to know both set's of folk personally and in passing; and some have been mate's for a long while. so methinks i'm well placed to tell the more churlish of both parties to grow up.
and as my earlier remark about knowin em canuck's, they seem to have pretty good memories about the unjust mistreatments their scottish forefather's suffered under em english - re: the highland clearance's and suchlike. woe betide if you tell em it's the past and they should move on.
the irony is they'd say exact same to me whenever i launch a diatribe about em jap's and wwII.
and i can't wait to tell the next canuck i meet - who if ever mentions the above - how come they are still part of the commonwealth. or how come the Queen is still their head of state.
no, it'd be: how come those fresh-off-the-boat amoebic amongst their lot cannot seem to accept the fact that a non-canuck - no, make that a non-caucasian; also read: yers truly - could be in charge of their monthly pub night's.
isn't it in their Constitution that they must not and should not discriminate anyone regardless of descent?
hypocrisy? or due to their scottish heritage? anyways, comin from folk who haven't a clue if they should be frog or yank, that's not surprising.
oh and as an aside, one of em poster's in the forum said about the yorkshireman being ".. a scot with all the generosity knocked out of him..", it reminds me of this wee episode whilst in London when i stopped this rather gorgeous, 7-footer [i think] blond chap for directions.
i queried afterwhich: "pardon my sayin so, you sound scottish but looked swedish."
his reply: "i'm from york."
that says it all, innit.
once a chav, always a chav. no amount of dosh will make em attain *real* class.
not too dissimilar from their wee island counterpart's of the lowest common denominator [read: those who take pleasure in manglin the english language] background, i'm afraid.
no matter, please ensure your tea/dinner/supper are well digested before viewin of piccies.
the england v sweden match was telecasted at such a godforsaken hour [ie: 03:00 hrs WIST] that yers truly fell asleep. whilst watchin the clock ticked. shortly after the germany v ecuador.
same happened when england played Trinidad and Tobago.
anyways, readin all those comments about england's poor [wot else is new?] performance, it's entirely not surprisin that sweden scored the equaliser as a result of some comedy defending.
the words "saving Sweden's face" sprung to mind. 'cos after all it's the gaffer's home country, innit?
oh btw, with regards to this article about how some schoolcow swoons over some footy player - she further fuelled the age-old prejudice about birds and footy. ie: bird's watch footy simply to ogle at em players' legs, derierre, and whatever else.
no, she gives cynic's more ammunition that bird's are simply *clueless* ["wot dya bird's know about footy, eh?" etc etc..] about the laws of football. that's definitely more like it.
and of all thing's, a 2-metre vegetable.
..on this breathtakingly gorgeous picture taken in north yorks. i meant the poppies.
story ere.
nicked off krip.
You Are 52% Cynical |
You see what's screwed up in the world, but you also take time to remember what's right. |
this piece of utter tosh is passed off as journalism. much less, allowed to see the light of day. what insult.
see the bit about asian's are obliged to support asian team's at the world cup regardless? amongst other bollocks? it's clear that the words "fair play" and "underdogs" never exist in this specimen's vocabulary. nor does it have a clear concept of supporting a certain club or country/countries - as in the case of international tourney's.
really, how could this sorry excuse of a human being be allowed to even breathe? surely this is an insult to the entire human race?
an english cow of irish ancestry
is so enamoured with the wee islet that she publicly begged to be adopted.
it must be the water around ere. or more specifically, the recycled waste [read: as in expelled from a human being] water that each and every native is made to quaff. and i can't wait to see the inevitable side-effect that will take place. or maybe it already has. as finely displayed by said cow.
well, going by the french philosopher's definition of nationality that she quoted:
.. nationality should be determined by where your heart feels at home, not by where your body happened to be born...
so i could now safely and openly declare that i'm english/british then? as opposed to anglophile? after all i did feel most at home whilst in old blighty, never more so in London. and how i'd stand proudly and declare my, erm, allegiance to the Queen during 'live' sports telecasts whilst at the local.
which i never give a flyin wotsit to the angry bewilderin deathstare's thrown at my direction. just because i and em ethnic chink's look similarly, so i MUST be wee islander?
oh, i could go on about how i have a thing for *young* english chappie's am still variously mistaken for a native of London, the north and north of the border. or even a manc which is hilarious as i spent only a couple of days in manchester.
come to think of it, i have never even been to scotland either. but what certainly is more hilarious, some wee islander's aren't sure if i'm actually one of em.
yep the above subject line was adapted off an advert
tagline of a cosmoversely-popular aerated soft drinks. that appeared many many many moon's ::ad infinitum:: ago coinciding with the world cup. who incidentally, is this year's sponsor also. greedy global "giant".
ever since i discovered the joy of 'live' footy radio the other day, i've had been sort of stayin up to listen to the games. unless i started to yawn me brains off, as the time difference was a tad too great. like, a match that kicks off at 20:00 BST is 03:00 WIST.
so one can guess the reason for my silence ere - soz, folk's. coincidentally enough, it's a quiet period for the biz as most of my customer's and prospect's have gone for the obligatory summer hols. too quiet for my liking, as i just have to stimulate the greycell's. can't afford to see it vegetate, really.
anyways, is it just me or has the gaffer been increasingly bizarre lately? was it purely out of not wanting to tire em player's out? or is he such a poor motivator that the players don't seem to gel together whatsoever?
and what's the talk about this world cup's squad being a talented bunch? haven't i heard that repeated many many many ::ad infinitum:: times that i lost count? what's the point of having prodigous talent in the squad if they cannot or simply refuse to complement one another?
[is there truly another gazza, lineker, pearce or shearer + sheringham partnership? talent me arse]
to quote a malay/peranakan saying: makan gaji buta = literally, eating wages blind[ly]. totally grammatically incorrect i know, but what it means is: earning a wage without doing any much work. or none whatsoever.
which methinks is an apt description of the twattin two-timing gaffer. and to a lesser extent, em footballer's who ought to take some rap for their poor performance. don't get me started on their choice of space-wasting missus either.
::pass the sickbag, someone. PLEASE::
right. enough of my ranting's. if you's like me, don't seem to get enough of footy news, go visit this blog by a journo who gives us a peek not on footy alone, but the goings-on, the fan's and summat in germany.
until my next footy rant.. can't wait for the brazil v oztrylia match to kick-off.
:: waltzin mathilda, waltzin mathilda... ::
hey, i go for the underdog regardless.
nicked off ere, see emphasis:
I will hear no more complaint about the BBC. The commentary may border on inanity and the jokes may be lame, but this morning, watching England on American TV, I cried for the BBC. You do not know what bad commentary is; you know nothing of former USA international Marcelo Balboa, who today informed me that, "England have a lot of great players, but they may underperform. It's like Real Madrid--they have a lot of great players, but they underperform."
The commentary team deployed for England--apparently the network's flagship duo--demonstrated an utter lack of awareness of European football beyond Madrid and Man U, and even seemed shaky on those subjects. "Everyone around the world knows the name of Michael Beckham," Balboa said, "I mean, David Beckham." They gave us meaningless statistics and worse jokes.
Add that to the fact that the audio feed lagged 7 seconds behind the high def video feed. That their utterly inane comments came 7 seconds late threw their incompetence into sharper relief. I could easily have done a better job, and I'm an 18 year-old from Tennessee who doesn't play football.
For all America's bragging about how we're becoming a world football superpower, we are giving no respect to the competition. That these twits are being broadcast across the country shows how far we are from legitimacy. It's a worse than saying, "soccer." This problem runs much deeper.
Disgruntled American,
name deleted to prevent virtual amoebae from comin ere
yeah, i was gobsmacked when i first come across this bit. bless the lad for his maturity.
as em terrestial channel are too stingy to broadcast every game of the world cup - except the opener, semi finals and final - i resigned to the possibility of goin to the local to watch it. if things get bad to worse.
so one could imagine how absolutely chuffed i was when i chanced upon this audio player thingy. whilst satisfyin my curiosity about the lurid piccy's of that gold-diggin shameless cow with a reinvented past.
so now i'm listenin to the USA vs Czech Republic game as we speak. yay.
btw, has anyone got this tear-inducin word correctly yet: moenchengladbach?
not another sob story from thailand.
no less from the widow of the poor geezer who was killed in Iraq. oh, my heart bleeds for the young widow. NOT.
oh and see how she whinges about not gettin a single penny.
soz to say this, but it seems that the average westerner is so easily taken in by mere appearances - the more innocent and as in this case, "unworldly and gauche" - the more pitiable the bint is. so much so that they never realise they've been duped [just like how em expat's deride wee islander's for drivin their foreign domestic helpers to despair] by these evil cunning type's. until it's too late.
hoho. ho. that'll learn em.
see the bit about said widow immediately dumping her boyfriend of nine year's for a strange bloke old enough to be her da? and her family were no less ecstatic and didn't give a monkey's that their daughter married a foreigner? and an old coot to boot? it's precisely because of his seemingly "wealthy" status, that's why.
if they ain't evil and cunning, how come there are so many amoebic wanker's ever so willing to part their soul? and just because they are married for yonk's, the average westerner never fails to coo, "ah, that's a nice change! what's their secret to this matrimonial happiness?".
these bint's would do anythin to keep the bloke, ye scammed fool. likewise, em bloke's like the idea of being waited on hand and foot. or in other words, their ego's are allowed to be inflated unlike back home - apart from treatin asian twits shoddily and gettin away with it [like how a customer or three admitted that they'd get walloped by aussie/kiwi bird's back home instead - twats]. amongst other thing's.
many folk's forget that we are dealing with a different bunch of wotsits from vastly different cultural backgrounds: appearances are not what they are over here in asia. that's why i try not to get too close to em as possible.
hypocrisy is an art form on this side of the planet, i tell ya.
what methinks is a top tune for engerland by a top bloke called george the dog. compare to the crap that have been dished out thus far.
not only the tune itself sounds wholly english [well, but of course], the words are simple enough for one to follow after a few round's of beer listenin. that said, it also rouses one's, erm, patriotism. how come? there's the winston churchill's famous war cry:
We shall fight on the beaches. We shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields, and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills. We shall never surrender!
so, c'mon you lad's.
wot's the date tomorrow folks? does it not ring a bell? hopefully those born tomorrow will not be named, amongst other thing's, Damien.
and coincidentally enough, it's the 62nd anniversary of D-Day also. maybe i could spend the day watchin the entire band of brothers' dvd collection.
wot better way to commemorate the day eh? oh, now i recall that one of the lead actor's is called Damien also.
:O
good lordy, is this a sign?
further proof that those aged 25 and below ought to be spayed. especially those akin to that harlot-lookin cunt - what's with that shade of red lipstick?
she certainly looks several moon's older than her 20 years. too many late night's probably.
i no longer regret joinin this online piccy community, after much uhmmin and ahhing [ie: thought and reservations]. well can't blame me can you's, when i've had come across amoebic comments left by equally amoebic wotsit's. for equally amoebic wotsit's.
yeah bird's of same feather, etc etc.
ok, how come? 98% of my fellow handicrafter's are portuguese, french and spanish speaker's [and equally quirky to boot]. and that means i have lots and lots and lots and ::snip:: of opportunity to exercise the greycell's. by translating messages on their respective site's into english as i go along.
it's a fact that as we grow, erm, old, our memory deteriorates rather rapidly. much to our chagrin, innit. so i have to find ways, measures and summat to slow the process down.
before it gets too late. right, for the life of me, i just couldn't recall what i'm supposed to do next...
and em lowest of the low riff raff seem to throw themselves on wanker's like him. one after another. and they tend to be the likes of waitresses, trolley dolley's, underwear models, z-list actresses, asian/wee island cheapskate's whoeventhinkbaldingbeer-belliedtwat'soldenoughtobetheirgranpaattractivesimplybcostheyarewhitethat'swhy.
ok, the last one's an exaggeration. but who knows?
well, thanks yer highness, for pollutin the blue marble with yer spawn.
spotted - and subsequently nicked - off someone's blog:
Cats don't have to be put on pedestals - they put themselves there.
reet. that line sounds mighty familiar.
::cough:: AHEM ::cough::
You Are a Tulip |
You often switch jobs and men, always looking for something better. But deep down, you're also very well grounded and content. And you will come to know that the life you live is already ideal. |
wild, moi?
often switch men?? yikes.
bride of frankenstein, ver 2006.
look at her mug carefully. dead muscles, those. oh and a white trailer trash to boot also, despite the amount of dosh she has acquired. courtesy of her ex-spouse.
btw, is it just me or is that minger nearly bursting at the seams?
that wee island "hobbyist" who i had the utmost pleasure
of winding-up the other day - who copycated someone else's designs, and then denying any wrongdoing and summat.
well, just two day's after the last blah, i found her listed on the same wee islet online shopping directory as i was. which no doubt left me both annoyed and intrigued [in equal measures] - as there were a handful of IP addy's regularly visiting my handicraftin site.
no, i'm not jumpin to conclusions as i had once spotted her using the "photography for dummies" line which came just a day or three after announcin my grand entrance - on which i had a jokey "beading for dummies" thingy on the sidebar.
oh and the purpose of this blah? just a couple of day's [see the pattern ere?] ago, she whinged rather loudly about someone copycating her wholesale. not just exact replica's of her one-of-a-kind pieces, but:
1. cutting-&-pasting her product descriptions
2. naming the replica's exactly as hers right down to the last letter
immediately the followin day after the whingein cow herself had done so - which i saw with me own eyes. copycating taken to new unprecedented heights, this.
but then again, it's in their genes after all. ouch. but what is surely more perplexin:
1. the wronged whingein cow posted her blah under saturday's when it didn't exist whatsoever when i dropped by early tuesday [yeah, i'd too much time on me paws apparently]
2. she went on about how she'd never call herself "designer" - clearly a dig at that copycater whom she implied had some lofty ideas about herself
and i thought anyone who designs somethin is technically a designer? non? and to show how hurtful she actually was, she didn't post any new products on the tuesday until very late with a "sold" declaration.
honestly, i didn't quite believe her that it was her "loyal" customer's who snitched on that copycater. when i myself chanced upon the latter's blog last thursday after receiving an email from the online directory's webmaster - on the latest feature which allowed us to keep track on the number of visitor's.
like as if she had never snooped around whatsoever. ms pot, you've just met yer match in ms kettle, eh?
no, read that as what goes around, comes around.
cheating that goes by any other name is still cheating.
non?
anyone who's indulgin in it will find just every excuse on the book to defend their behaviour. and flirting is a dangerous game to embark on also - what is one tryin to prove? to assure oneself that they are still attractive to the opposite sex?
i always find it suspicious when a married/attached bloke confide in me their frustrations, ups and downs, darkest secrets or even mere thought's. i mean, whatever is his missus/bird for? especially so when and if they quote the oft-used "..me wife doesn't quite understand me/share similar interests/anyotherimaginableexcuse" bollocks.
they chose the bird to spend their lives with in the first place. innit?
likewise, i can't tolerate the idea of my future partner treating his female workmate/mate/some bird as his closest confidante. i'd not hesitate to wallop show him the door.