I’m back. Jesus that took ages. Fucking snow. I only popped out for a bottle of milk and some Rennie. The havoc the Christmas cheer was reaping on my insides was unholy. Honestly, it was like I’d ingested the entire Viking race and they were intent on raping and pillaging their way through my digestive tract. Suffice to say, I needed to get to the chemist. Sharpish.
There were warnings of TREACHEROUS WEATHER CONDITIONS but I thought fuck it, if I don’t get some indigestion remedy soon there are going to be some pretty treacherous conditions here too.
I got to the chemist, inhaled half the packet and – feeling pretty happy with myself – got in the car to negotiate the three mile trip home. Unfortunately someone upstairs decided then would be a good time to dump the insides of Daniella Westbrook’s nostril all over our tiny Isle. So there I was, under 12 feet of snow with nothing but 6 Rennies and a pint of semi-skimmed as company. To cut a long story short it’s taken me a month and a bit to negotiate the three mile journey home (obviously stopping at every public house enroute).
Clearly, that is all complete bollocks. Sorry to lead you on. I just wanted flex my creative muscle. I was simply too pissed to write anything over Christmas and have only just returned from a post-Christmas ski-ing jaunt. So now I’m playing catch-up.
First up. Hats off to Bill McClaren. The legend. The master. He’s the reason I fell in love with rugby and since his retirement commentary just hasn’t been the same. Who else could describe Bryan Redpath as “slippy as a baggy on a Border burn”. Genius.
What else is going on? Oh yes. Venter’s been throwing his toys out of the pram now Saracens have lost a couple. Cunt.
A Frenchman has been banned for 70 weeks for eye gouging. Yeeeeess, get in!!!
And there’s obviously the final round of the Heineken Cup group games this weekend. Well done to Bath for giving us another complete shower of shit. But I like the look of the rest of the competition. Northampton Vs Munster will be fantastic tonight and if Courtney Lawes plays like he did in their last encounter he must surely start against Wales.
Which brings me neatly onto the small matter of the Six Nations. Christ its come round quickly. I’ve decided I’m not going to make any predictions this year as my prophecies are always, 100% donkey spunk.
What’s that? You want my prediction?
Oh go on then. You’ve twisted my sack. Ireland will win and England will come a vomit inducing 4th.
But first, England have to face Wales. Jesus wept. It’s going to be awful.
But it needn’t be.
Now I wouldn’t suggest for a minute that Martin Johnson reads this blog, but if he did, England might win some fucking games. Yeah. That’s right. Win some fucking games. Here’s the team that WOULD beat Wales if our glorious leader bothered to listen to me.
1. Sheridan
2. Hartley
3. Wilson
4. Shaw ©
5.Lawes
6. Haskell
7. Moody
8. Easter
9. Hodgson
10. Wilkinson
11. Monye
12. Flutey
13. Armitage
14. Ashton
15. Cueto
16. Care
17. Flood
18. Tait
19. Mears
20. White
21. Borthwick
22. Worsley
