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Posts Tagged ‘World Cup Brazil’

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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 E and F.

charles chinstrap copy

Group E

Switzerland – Neutral, Heidi worshipping Nazi gold hoarders who like cheese with holes in – Bastards to a man.

Ecuador – Bandy legged coca leaf chewers and purveyors of silly hats – belching is a national obsession.

France – Shoulder shrugging arseholes who we had to save in World Wars 1 and 2. They still try to shaft us at every opportunity.  Mama still refers to De Gaulle as “That Big Conked French Wanker.” They don’t wash and all smell of garlic. Brigit Bardot though – PHWOARRR!

Honduras – A country with the highest murder rate in the world. Nothing else to do apparently. Apart from sweat. The country only has 7 dentists.

 

Group F

Argentina – Tangoing, cheating Barrio dwellers who have tried to con us out of every World Cup since 1875. The Falklands are British and even speccy Pope Argy won’t get his hands on them!

Bosnia and Herzegovina – Their name takes longer to say than the length of time they will be in the competition. Because of them we have to suffer James Blunt. 

Iran – A land of hairy arsed Yank baiters who hide nuclear waste material down their trousers.Lovely carpets though. Can I have one?

Nigeria – Email scamming juju obsessed con artists who have a problem with educating girls. Bring back the Empire!

 

jose

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You Have To Hand It To Him!

You Have To Hand It To Him!

Azteca Stadium – Mexico City, Mexico- 1986

He was small,  stocky and had a lovely mop of hair. He had it all. And he did it in tiny, shiny shorts. He was Diego Armando Maradona.

England. Sturdy. Yeomen. Thick.

It was a clash. Not only of cultures and values but also hairstyles. England still trimmed by Mum; Argentina mulleted bandoleros. Boy, did they give the volumizer a bashing at half-time.

A war had divided the two nations. But one thing united both teams. Exceptionally tiny, shiny shorts.

As Peter Reid, the doughty Liverpudlian midfield enforcer, said about Maradona, “I just couldn’t get near him, me shorts had cut of the blood supply to me knackers. I can’t have no kids ‘coz of dem shorts laa.”

England could not cope with the titchy Buenos Aires Barrio boy. Diego was that good. But he was also a cheat. A cheat who drew inspiration from God.

THE HAND OF GOD.


As these photos display the infamous first goal, when he punched the chicken into the net over the head of English goalkeep, the perma-permed Shilts to put his Tangoing team ahead.

From a different angle the chicken looks suspiciously like a boiled ham. If that doesn’t scream Ham Ball we don’t know what does.

You’ve Got To Ham It To Him!

We'd Get Him In The End!

We’d Get Him In The End!

The result? Argentina won the game and went on to lift the World Cup of Footbally Bally.

Shiny shorts are still banned in England to this day.

Diego is now Pope.

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