Pity England – Crap At Everything – Time For Some New Sports!

Hello,

• Out of the World Cup
• Walloped in the Cricket
• Allowed predatory paedophile TV Stars to sustain child abuse in plain view
• An incompetent Prime Minister stiffed by the Europeans
• An Establishment clique exposed in the Courts as contemptuous of The People
• A nation governed for the benefit of Bankers.

Even the Scottish may show them the finger!

Pity England…..

England gifted the world – Football, Rugby, Tennis, giggling, The Rule of Law, the tank top, Pleurisy, pleated skirts, sandwiches, Parliamentary Democracy, trapped wind, the concentration camp and poorly drawn international boundaries. Oh and Margaret Thatcher.

As Shakespeare wrote, “Tis, Twas, Aforesaid herewith are we not yet more than but could we be? Advance yonder light and rest upon my girded goatee.”

The nation is down in the dumps. What is the answer?

New games gifted to grateful foreigners – but fear not in another 100 or so years England will be crap at these too!

Hooray! Hooray!

SOME GAMES THE ENGLISH CAN GIVE TO THE WORLD! GRATIS! FREE!

1. Formation Immolation – Team arson has never been so much fun!

2. Pillow Dribble Staining – Dribbling and sleeping – the perfect combo! 

3. Donkey Dangle – hang limply from a donkey without food, water or “natural break”. A sport that combines endurance, pointlessness and chafing in equal measure.

4. Pluckery –  Competitors are blindfolded, nailed to a wheel and spun for 24 hours – they are then asked to come up with a cogent argument for the continued existence of Piers Morgan.

This is Level 1 of Pluckery – “The cruel and unusual test of pointless endurance”.

5. Gibber – A sport with a training regime like no other. Drinking, smoking, tottering, poor bladder control, teeth staining, sitting in pubs talking cobblers and eating greasy food of dubious quality on the way home, whilst talking more nonsense.

Every day. For decades.

“I think therefore I gibber.” D’escartes.

6. Octogenarian Bollock Drop and Roll Ball – You will be aghast at the stretchy tessies elderly gentlemen possess.

7. Bouncing Bards – Poets hop around a running track and recite poems written by local halfwits.

8. Sado-Masochist Balls –  Teams of S & M types –  line em up against a wall and rub them feverishly with sandpaper – ALL OVER.

9. Sausage Pocket – Throw a sausage – from distance – into a team mate’s pocket – The Javelin meets Lacrosse using a savoury meaty snack.

10. Nervous Team Titter – The game for those who react to pressure by giggling – a team of titterers seek to score “giggle goals” in a variety of embarrassing situations.     

Come On Kate – Get Pregnant!

Sweet Jesus

 

Read Full Post »

World Cup Report With Ginger Sooty!

 

Ginger Sooty filed this from Copacabananananana Beach last night.

Hello,

 

What a World Cup!

We are through the group stages now and Spain, Italy, Portugal, Russia and England are on the dreaded “plane back home” to vilification and derision.

Well done to the USA, Algeria and Costa Rica in particular for making it through to the knock out stages. The Algerian man of the tournament must be their supporter who shone a laser into the Russian keeper’s eyes moments before they equalised to send them through. Cheating and modern technology in perfect harmony.

 

The Russian trainer, the granite jawed Capello faced a crisis when his hair dye ran for a longer period in one match than his star centre forward Igor Knickersov. Pity Capello (not) for selecting a goalkeeper who had more chance of catching a mackerel in a shower in Dar-Es-Salaam than the ball when it approached.

Cristiano Ronaldo’s dodgy knee meant that his rhinestone duffel bag was the only Portugese item to shine this year.

2 Ghanaian players were sent home after assaulting a member of the Ghanaian FA in a dispute over wages.  The President ordered $3,000,000 cash to be flown to Brazil to pay the Black Star Stars. They lost.

Belgium, many people’s dark horses (what would a bright horse be? Also you have a Ruthless Streak but not a Ruth Streak?) would be my outside tip to win the thing now. Remember you read it here first.

The Tussel On Brussels

Here on Copacabana Beach it is hard being a glove puppet – the sand gets everywhere –  but the obsession with the buttocks in this country is so overwhelming that I am having a thong made so I can shake my booty sister!

 

Other Things You May Have Missed

The Ivory Coast players were covered in custard for their do or die match against Greece. They lost.

Two of the players from Ecuador had panpipes up their arses when playing. This brought a lovely soothing quality to the teams play and we all warbled a Simon and Garfunkel tune without knowing why. (I’d rather be a nail).

Argentina’s talisman and genius Lionel Messi was named after Lionel Blair

Australian Prime Minister Tony “Abbo” Abbott blamed an over reliance on slip on shoes amongst Australian men to explain the teams early exit.

Enjoy the World Cup!

 

 

Read Full Post »

Luis Suarez Signs Major Teeth Sponsorship Deal!

Luis Suarez has signed a major sponsorship agreement with denture fixing giant Fixodont.

Suarez ,who recently took a bite out of big conked Italian defender, Giorgio Chiellini, was delighted with the tie up telling Gfb’s Dental Correpsondent, Geoff Gingivitis, “I is a very happi to announce theeeese sponshooreship agreeeeeeement with Fixshodont. Dey geeeevveeee meeee the greeeeep I neeeeed to ‘ave a da confidents to a byte da fuck outta any hoponent ooh geta in ma way. I love a neeeeble on flesh. Good for da soul no?”

Meanwhile, Suarez’s dentist in Montevideo, Mr Gustavo Cuspid told our reporter, “Luis is a lovely lad, with great teeth  – not a filling in his gob! He has found a use for his pronounced overbite, so leave our national hero alone.”

Chomp, chomp.

 

 

Read Full Post »

Spain Crash Out Of The World Cup! Ginger Sooty In Brazil

 

Ginger Sooty will keep you up to date with all the shenanigans and goings on in Brazil 2014. He filed this from Copacabananananana Beach.

Hello,

“Up comes Carlos Alberto on the right….” Ah yes 1970, the greatest football team ever assembled win the World Cup for the 3rd time and entrenches Brazil as the spiritual home of football.

So with the competition for 2014 in Brazil what could be better? I even donned me Carnival outfit and sashayed to Costa’s for a celebratory decaffeinated coffee – harder than you think when you are a glove puppet.

And why are grown men collecting Panini Stickers? – Got – Got – Need – Need indeed

The opening week has been brilliant.

Every game has had something to drool over, excessive saliva production is common amongst native Portuguese speakers. In fact so much spittle has been produced in Brazil that giant sponges are being used to mop the streets of Rio.

And boy oh boy is obesity popular amongst Latin Americans!

Their have been fine wins for Holland (shaliva shpectaculer) Brazil, Chile, USA, Mexico and Italy.

England managed to string 3 passes together on more than one occasion in their game against Italy but still lost to the Latin Layabouts. The only worry is Wayne Rooney – he looks like he has been partying with some Papua New Guinea head shrinkers such as his bonce diminished from the Oirish spudhead look.

Better Than That Welcome Mat On His Head!

Let’s hope we can beat Uruguay tonight to stay in the competition. If not INVADE this corn beef sweating arse end of South America!

Ahem.

Germany look good but the real shock has been the early demise of reigning champions Spain who lost last night to Chile and are out of the competition.  It’s a shame when a truly great team comes to the natural end of its cycle but boy they were good, possibly the greatest since Brazil 1970. This glove puppet for one will fondly look back on their brand of football inspired by Rudyard Kipling.

Yes Riki Tiki Taka Tava football changed the way we play the game. Forever.

Other Things To Ponder

We all love Iran now – They are not evil nutters hellbent on lobbing a nuclear warhead at us – they are avuncular chaps with beards and a deep commitment to parliamentary democracy. Crap at footie though.

Is the Swiss goalkeeper really made of cheese as some reports suggest?

The Japanese team play ancient Japanese folk melodies on nose flutes to celebrate scoring a goal.

Lionel Messi – the world’s greatest footballer – collects burglar alarms and has over 250 in his shed.

Enjoy the World Cup!

 

 

Read Full Post »

The World Cup 2014 – Prince Charles’ View Of The Competing Nations – Part 2

The World Cup Is Here!

Brazil is hosting the tournament.

Prince Charles provides his rounded view of the 32 Nations taking part. Here is his take on the Groups C and D.

Group C

Colombia – Every crack dealers second team. Likely to sniff victory at the earliest opportunity. Will hug the lines.

Greece – So broke the team had to walk to Brazil. Dearest Father cheers them on. We have to hide the crockery.

Ivory Coast – Big lads to a man – lightweights. Should have been our colony. Frogs got there first.

Japan – Whale butchers and giant lizard fantasists – who WE BEAT IN THE WAR! – You can stick your Honda Civic up yer arse!

 

Group D

ENGLAND – Inventors of football, railway timetables, parliamentary democracy, the concentration camp, trapped wind, eyelash curlers and the long sock – if there’s an Eden it is England. Bloody foreigners. Which one of you fuckers wants some then?

Italy – A car back fires and Rome surrenders – lily livered Latin loverboys who will cheat and bribe their way to victory over our brave lads unsullied as we are by the desire or skill to win at football.

Uruguay – Morose bandy legged corned beef hawkers – two words to say to them Graf Spee and the Battle of River Plate!

Costa Rica – Titchy Central American nation perched on an Isthmus which sounds like someone with a lisp saying Christmas. They don’t have an Army. INVADE! Bring back the Empire!

INGERLAND!

Read Full Post »

2014 World Cup – Brazil! Prince Charles’ On The Competing Nations – Part 1

The World Cup Is Here!

Brazil is hosting the tournament.

Despite the corruption, riots and on site deaths,  the world will turn its attention to the buttock shaking centre of the Universe for a month.

Yes folks, there will be images of g-string clad, sweaty arsed Favela dwellers shouting,  “GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLL” every time a “sambatastic” player breaks the old onion bag.

Prince Charles provides his rounded view of the 32 Nations taking part. Here is his take on the first 2  Groups.

 

Greetings – it was most kind of Gingerfightback to invite one to give one’s view of the nations competing in this year’s Roundball Event (more of a Polo man – nothing like riding an old nag –  but enough about Camilla!)

Here are my views of the plebians taking part in the game WE INVENTED!

Group A

Brazil – Any country that has a pubic hair shaving regime named after it is alright by one! PHWOARRRR!

Croatia – People with incomprehensible surnames should never be trusted. They have a tablecloth for a national flag. Dodgy collaborators.

Mexico – Cheese melters and bean squishers mostly propped up against walls asleep under their sombreros. Is Yul Brynner still coach?

Cameroon – Shite Prime Minster from Eton – didn’t realise he was a footy player – had him down as a fag basher from his Bullingdon days.

 

Group B

Spain – Current Champions – Eat very thinly sliced ham – not breaded either – the bastards  – their King has just abdicated.  MAMA! ARE YOU READING THIS!

Netherlands – Clog barmy barge dwellersh finger in dyke typesh – love to shmoke der dope. Tall. Very tall.

Chile – Pan pipe parpers and centre of the world bird shit industry. A country so thin it is the poster child for anorexic Human Geographers.

Australia – Aussies constantly bang on about how great the place is from the countries they are living in. Ex convicts with skin cancer.

 

 

Read Full Post »

The Tight Fisted Traveller’s Journey To Brazil (Again!) Part 2

Hello,

I hope you enjoyed Part 1 yesterday. You can Read Part 1 here!

Here is Part 2 – Read on……….

Day 41 – Lisbon – scurry aboard Recife bound ship “Obrigado” – the principal cargo is buttock emollient cream, samba costumes and whistles – wriggle into a nice floral headpiece, matching sequinned bra and thong – I blending in with Brazilian culture!

Day 43 – The Obrigado – Unmasked by Boson as not “Hector” the vessel’s happy go lucky First Mate but as a non-paying transgender guest with well-honed buttocks – thrown in the Brig.

Day 43 – The Obrigado – Brought to ship’s captain – he is an unreconstructed romantic who is in a state of high dudgeon after reading the Bronte Classic Jane Eyre – he clutches me to his swelling breast and sobs uncontrollably “Poor Rochester,” he cries – tells me of his loon of a wife – a woman with a predilection for salty old tars – she is sealed away in ship’s bulkhead on account of her madness and “needs”.

Day 46 – The Obrigado – Mass panic as Captain’s wife escapes and ravishes the ships Bursar, First and Second Mate, Boson, Petty Officer, Cook and a lad who happened to be passing in a Tuna fishing boat she spotted on the starboard bow – swam over to and ravished – she is captured and restored to her cell – the Captain sobs – I read him extracts from Wuthering Heights – “Poor Cathy,” is all he says.

Day 50 – Recife – Leave Obrigado – Captain donates lifetime supply of buttock emollient to thank me for my support – his wife ravishes me before I skip ashore – “Poor Cathy,” are the last words I hear.

Day 51 – Trans-Amazonian Highway – Sashay my way towards Belem – my bottom is revered by buttock cognoscenti.

Day 54 – Belem – Join Samba dance band – band rooted in bizarre Marxist theory that believes buttock wobbling in camp outfits will eventually destroy capitalism – I have my doubts.

Day 68 – Mouth of Amazon – Say farewell to my Samba Band colleagues with a toot on my whistle – Capitalism still intact – chop down big tree – shape it into giant clog and paddle towards Manaus.

Useful Tip in the Rain Forest #1 Never paddle in a thong.

Day 71 The Amazon – See off attack from shoal of synchronised swimming Piranhas by dazzling them with my sequin studded brassiere – smear myself in emollient to fend off flesh-eating insects and mosquitos.

Day 75 – Fishing village of Maracaibo – Befriended by Geoff a double glazing salesman from Cornwall who. “turned left at Plymouth instead of right” – barter my whistle with him for a set of triple glazed French windows he happens to be carrying – lash them to clog and sail up the Amazon!

Day 80 – Manaus – Leave clog and trek into Forest – see all types of creatures – Jaguars, Monkeys, Lions, Tigers, Penguins, Polar Bears, even a Giraffe – realise I am in Manaus Zoo and head for exit – easy mistake to make. Turn left at MacDonald’s and find myself deep in the Rain Forest.

Useful Tip in the Rain Forest #2 – Never walk in a thong and stilettos in the Rain Forest.

Day 84 – Rain Forest – Felled by dart fired from blowpipe – fall into delirious fever – imagine erotic romps with Bilbo Baggins.

Day 86 – Rain Forest – Fever breaks and awake to find short lad with big ears and enormous feet next to me! I am in Middle Earth!

Day 86 – Rain Forest – Lad wakes up and smiles – he only communicates by twanging his nasal hairs in complex melodies – I discover his name is Whothefuckareyou? Chief of a long lost tribe who still don’t have a clue where they are – The Wherethefuckarewe?

Day 86  – Rain Forest – I am the first white man in samba outfit with smooth buttocks the Wherethefuckarewe? have encountered – I am worshipped as their long lost God and christened Wherethefuckdidhecomefrom?

Day 87 – Rain Forest – The Wherethefuckarewe? are a proud people – traditional costume is an Adidas Shellsuit – it is good to see that they have not been tainted by western culture – Whothefuckareyou? organises a feast in my honour!

Day 88 – Rain Forest The feast comprises the traditional Amazonian dish of Burger and Chips washed down with a highly intoxicating liquor made by fermenting the bark of dogs – we partake in a fertility dance with a number of toothless harpies – nasal hairs plucked with much ferocity – Before passing out all I recall is a nasal hair plucking rendition of the Hokey Cokey, followed by Hi Ho Silver Lining……..

Day 93 – Rain Forest – Whothefuckareyou? leads me deep into the jungle – day after day I toil moving ever further from civilisation towards what? I know not – I am wilting – cannot go much further – chafed and blistered – my headgear a bit wonky – Finally he holds out a slightly wonky Light Sabre without batteries towards a clearing in the Forest.

Day 93 – In The Rain Forest – A place of serene beauty – never before seen by a white man dressed in a samba outfit – giant statues – thousands of years old – bearing a remarkable resemblance to the cast of US Sitcom Friends – guard this place – I hear water nearby – Whothefuckareyou? twangs on his nose hair – the sounds tell me that we have reached the source of the Amazon – A washer is needed to stop the dripping – slightly disappointing.

I think of Simon Cowell with a sausage on his head.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read Full Post »

The Tight Fisted Traveller’s Journey To Brazil (Again!) Part 1

 

Hello,

With the Soccerball World Cup in Brazil  starting next week and football fever building,  here is an old story from our friend  The Tight Fisted Traveller on how he managed to travel to Brazil for free last year.

This is taken from his handy reference book– “The Coke Smugglers Guide to Latin America”.

Chapter 23 – “Brazil It’s An Amazon Place!”

Day 1 – London – Steal bicycle – nip to French mens outfitter’s “Moi?” – purloin traditional French garb of beret, Breton shirt, moustache and string of onions – stare in shop window and practice nonplussed facial expression whilst shrugging shoulders – I am French!

Day 1 – London – Bike ride to Dover hampered by dangling onions – but I am French now so shrug shoulders and blockade motorway to protest.

Day 3 – Dover Harbour – Stowaway on French Minesweeper SS “Mai Oui”.

Day 4 – English Channel – My disguise allows me to mingle with the crew who smoke continually, argue about the true meaning of Sartre and make vegetable soup which is slurped down with Gallic aplomb.

Day 5 – English Channel – The crew take me to heart after Je suis discovered akip in torpedo tube – sing the Edith Piaf classic – “A Citroen Backfires – Paris Surrenders” become overnight internet sensation on Vous Tube.

Day 6 – Cherbourg – no sign of Cher sadly – I am smuggled ashore by crew who wish to continue discussing Sartre and their nation’s affliction for permanent nonplussedness. After emotional farewells involving mass spontaneous shoulder shrugging – I cycle south for Spain.

Day 8 – Cherbourg (still) – Dangling onions still a problem and the false moustache causing further drag issues on Bike – c’est la vie – blockade service station toilets in protest.

Day 9 – Cherbourg (still) – Tour de France sweeps through – Stage 14 to Reims – I join the Peloton – miraculously win the stage and claim the Yellow Jersey. Cite Lance Armstrong and Amphetamine abuse as major factors in my success.

Day 10 Reims – I am uncovered when my dangling onions accidentally throttle leading French rider in Stage 15 – chased by baying mob of French onion loving cyclist philosophers who see this as ghastly “Les Rosbifs” attack on a French sporting institution (but the philosophers ask “is it?”) – Make good my escape by removing the onions from bike and take off false moustache – they’ll never spot me!

Day 10 – Reims- Arrested by French police. Blockade my cell in protest.

Day 13 – Reims – Released – am offered a lift by Heineken sozzled Dutch shykling fansh – Wim and Piet Mine Der Gap who are following the Tour – Their camper van roof sports a giant detachable clog and a windmill – “Krayshee Ja!” Wim and Piet keep saying – I am hidden in Windmill as we pass through the Pyrenees into Espana. Now I know what Anne Frank must have gone through.

Day 31 – The Spanish Pyrenees – Wim and Piet spin on blades of windmill for three days singing the back catalogue of well known Dutch Prog rock band Focus – they swear rotary turbine spinning cures any hangover – I decouple giant clog and slip quietly into the River Sangria and raft to Madrid.

Day 33 – Somewhere in Iberia – Sailing by clog surprisingly comfortable – draw admiring glances from Spanish Environmentalists who are protesting about tomatoes being grown in greenhouses along riverbanks.

Day 37 – Madrid – How a Brit, disguised as a Frenchman arriving in a giant clog could be construed to be the famous bullfighter “El Flatulente” is beyond me – but I am – carried shoulder high to Las Ventas for a spot of “Death in the Afternoon”.

Day 37 –  Madrid – Bullfighting clothes very tight on the old knackers – mince my way into the ring – confronted by a livid Bull called “El Mangler” – my bowels loosen – prance like John Wayne with piles – realise my sword is actually a shop bought Star Wars light sabre without batteries – I have to make the droning noise myself – El Mangler sees the sword, recalls he is part Sith and then does a passable Darth Vader impression – becomes internet sensation on Tu Tube – I am carried shoulder high by adoring fans out of the arena – with only a wonky shop bought Star Wars light sabre without batteries as a trophy.

Day 38 – Madrid – I hitch a lift in a lorry driven by a reticent Serb war criminal, Goran – cargo is artificially grown tomatoes hidden in statues of Picasso.

Part 2 Tomorrow! To Lisbon and Beyond……..

Read Full Post »