Observations of an Irishman

I know i shoudnt, but i did and i liked it!!

2006-06-07T13:49:00.000Z

A few moths ago I tried something for the first time and I know that some of you will think that I am sick for doing it but I believe that everyone should try this at least once in there life.

A while back my cousin Graham came over to visit and we had spent most of the day and evening drinking.

We went back to my flat, I went to the kitchen and got another two beers from the fridge and when I turned round Graham was stood there with this ‘thing’ in his hand, I said ‘what are you doing?’ he replied ‘put it in your mouth’ I was shocked. I said ‘are you having a laugh?’ he said ‘I promise you’ll like it, I do it all the time.’ I didn’t know what to think. I have to be honest I was tempted, I knew other men did it, I knew my father was partial to abit now and then, he was my cousin, I knew he loved me and wouldn’t do anything to hurt me and if I didn’t like it, it would be our little secret.

So in the end I gave in and I put it in my mouth, it was a strange feeling, it felt strange in my mouth, soft but yet hard. Graham looked really pleased. I sort of communicated to him with wide eyes of approval; I couldn’t speak as I obviously had my mouth full.

When it was over I wanted more, I said to Graham, ‘I want more of that’ he looked down and said ‘I think you’ve had enough for now.’ I lay awake in bed that night; I couldn’t get it out of my head, why had I waited so long to experience something so wonderful.

I haven’t had any for a while now but it’s always on my mind, if I’m in a bar or restaurant I crave it, I just have to have it. My girlfriend Donna is really into it as well, Graham didn’t want anyone else to know but I just had to let her try it too. She can put a lot of it in her mouth, probably more than I can.

It came as such a surprise that something so taboo could be exactly what my life has been missing; I really never thought that I would like ‘cheese.’

Not just any cheese…..Coleraine Mature Cheddar……my biggest problem is that I can’t buy it in England, although my craving is being fed by family members from home coming over via Easyjet and Ryanair with slabs of Coleraine Mature Cheddar in there suitcases.

You heard it here first……..Coleraine Mature Cheddar is the new Cocaine.

Play the game

2006-05-20T14:03:00.000Z

Play the game

I was in Tesco a few weeks ago buying shit that I didn’t need when I seen a woman who had clearly fallen on hard times, she was shop lifting. I had absolutely no problem with what this woman was doing, I just thought ‘Good on you girl.’

No doubt my thinking would be very different if I had found this woman in my flat at 3am in the morning helping herself to my Billy Connolly DVD collection, Christ I don’t think she would have seen the light of day ever again. I even get suspicious of my girlfriend going near my Billy Connolly collection, ‘Oi, chick flicks are at the bottom of the rack, Billy is at the top, you have no need to ever look that high in the rack, what are you playing at?’

Anyway what really got me about this woman shop lifting was that she was stealing food, she wasn’t stealing alcohol as people would normally expect. She took things like mince, bacon and bread. She put them in her jacket and quickly left the shop.

I couldn’t help but think that there might be some hungry children waiting at home. I was now queuing at the till when this old woman who is your typical curtain twitcher, came past everyone announcing that a woman had been shop lifting and had just left the shop. I felt like rugby tackling this old woman and rubbing her face in the dirt. What a bitch! There had clearly been no consideration or thought into the reason for this woman shop lifting, it wasn’t like she went outside and jumped into a BMW, no, she ran away in her torn trainers.

I couldn’t believe this old woman, shaking her head in disgust; I was thinking ‘what the fuck are you? A major shareholder or an Angel sent from Heaven to protect the profit margins of a major company?’

You see I have worked for M&S, Lidl and now Sainsbury’s and in all of these jobs I have been very shocked at the quantities of food that they dispose of. In one day I have seen enough food to stock a small corner shop just thrown in the bin, so when I see someone in need stealing food from any of the major shops it doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

These people are victims of life; maybe not tough enough to play the game, because that’s all life is to me, a game. There will be highs and there will be lows. When things are going good you have to play the game and do everything you can to make the high last longer, get everything you can from this high because when the next low hits I always think to myself ‘alright, lets battle this out and wait for the next high and then I’m going to milk that high for all its worth.’

So for me this woman stealing in the shop, she was only battling her latest low moment in the game of life and the old curtain twitcher, well I guess her game is coming to an end and she is trying to hang on in there, she is playing an older game, a game with out of date rules, we are playing the latest version, the hardest version yet.

Attraction

2006-05-04T11:47:00.000Z

Attraction

I think the basic first rule to remember about attraction is that there are no rules. I’m really serious, you do not choose who you are attracted too; attraction chooses you. You may be sitting next to someone you have known for ages and suddenly you notice something about them that make’s your heart race and makes you confused. You will be wondering ‘why am I thinking this way about you?’ that’s the beauty of attraction, you can’t make it happen and at the same time you can’t make it stop.

Attraction doesn’t get any easier with age, it only gets more complicated. When your young and you’re attracted to someone it’s all very simple. Yes you feel like shit when you’re not around the person you’re attracted to, your heart will race when they sit close to you, you’re overjoyed when they speak to you and your biggest problem might be that they have a boyfriend or girlfriend they see for about fifteen minutes a week. When your young attraction easily jumps from person to person, I’ve seen many a youthful relationship ended on the local dance floor of the teenage disco; it’s a simple, ‘I don’t want to go with you anymore’, a simple ‘ok’ and its done.

When your older it’s more complicated because couples will now have committed a lot more time and energy into there relationship and they wont let there relationship just fall apart. So if you fancy someone now, its more difficult, but your basic feelings will be the same as when you were younger except if you reveal your feelings your likely to get a punch in the mouth from a rather jealous boyfriend or girlfriend. The person might even be married but my advice is too make sure the person you are attracted too feels the same way about you. You do not want to share your feeling with this person if they are going to turn round and say ‘oh, thanks’ trust me ‘oh, thanks’ is not a good response.

You see attraction can blur the lines of reality, we’ve all seen the films where some bumbling fool opens his heart to a beautiful woman and they end up in each others arms. These films are also called ‘Feel good films’ they are all about happy endings, unfortunately life isn’t about happy endings. You see when you are attracted to someone little things excite you and make you think strange thoughts. The person you are attracted too may brush past you, grab your arm when you make them laugh and suddenly your brain is thinking ‘he/she just touched me’ ‘they must be attracted to me.’ The problem is they may have done this a hundred times before but at the time you weren’t interested in them in that way, but now your attracted to them you think ‘wow, you never done that before.’

If at all possible try and avoid being around the person you are attracted to if you are drinking alcohol. I know that alcohol can be a good way of getting rid of the nerves and giving you a bit of Dutch courage but it can also have the opposite effect. It’s ok if you’re both attracted to each other but if you’re still unsure of there feelings avoid getting drunk in front of them because you will almost certainly feel the urge to speak to them and fuck it up. A terrible opening line is ‘I love you’ trust me you will not see that person again for dust. You may end up complementing there breasts or talking about something you know absolutely nothing about and you will look like a prick. They could be talking about George Bush and you spout out ‘my sister uses my mack 3 on her bush, she thinks I don’t know but I do.’ Oh Christ there is no room for recovery after that, so my best advice would be to avoid too much alcohol around the person you are attracted to, and always be yourself.

Another point I feel is worth mentioning in regards to attraction is that you shouldn’t rule out any possible future relationship because the person you are finding yourself attracted to isn’t your normal type, don’t pigeon hole yourself into thinking that your girlfriend must look like the girls on the front of FHM, you will be sorely disappointed.

Attraction is an amazing feeling, it really makes you feel alive, you’ve got a skip in your step, everyday is a bright new day, enjoy it but remember attraction is like a fart, it chooses you, you don’t choose it and not everyone likes the smell of other peoples farts.

It's not easy being a man

2006-03-30T09:10:00.000Z

It’s not easy being a man

I know there will be women already looking at this and going “oh, yeah?” well shut up and listen, we do have it tough.

We are now expected in this modern day to deliver multiple orgasm’s, make love for hours, not complain when you are suffering from PMT, get shouted at when we enquire if your suffering from PMT because you are now behaving like the woman in Misery, because of people like David Beckham (who people forget has cheated on his wife and children) we are expected to look good at all times and be the perfect doting partner, hold down a good job and always look interested in anything you say, especially when its about what outfit you should wear.

I do understand that childbirth is tough but you were designed for this, we weren’t. Yes PMT is terrible; I did read that doctors are going to give women a new tablet that will stop women having PMT and make them feel good. I thought “what could stop women feeling so bad and then make them feel good”, I thought “fucking hell, they are going to give them ecstasy” it turns out that they aren’t going too but it would take something equally as strong.

One of the big problems facing men now is the demand for top dollar sex. Woman want to have sex for hours, that isn’t really possible, I don’t see what’s wrong with 3 minutes and 26 seconds of ‘who’s your daddy’ and about 8 hours sleep….call me old fashioned.

I know I’m not alone in this, isn’t it hard to know when the right time to take off your socks before sex is? Ideally it should be when you take off your shoes, but that’s going to be awkward if she asks you to take off your shoes at the front door.

Say you’ve taken off your shoes, your on the sofa, things are progressing, she leads you to the bedroom, your kissing, your excited, you’re a bit drunk, you want to impress. She undoes the buttons on your shirt, you undo your belt and trousers, your shirt is off, you take off your trousers and boxers in one movement, careful not to head butt her in this motion. All at the same time you have been undressing her, your now stood there naked except for your socks, you know you cant try and take them off now; its hard to look sexy when your stood on one leg with an erection trying to peel off a sock, it will never come off smoothly, if you fall over just gather up your stuff and leave ASAP! Your only option is to hope that she doesn’t notice that you’ve still got your socks on, get under the blankets and hope for the best.

The other thing some blokes have difficulty with is ‘when should I take my boxers off?’ As I’ve said above, do it with your trousers, one movement and it’s all over, you will look like your hiding something if you get under the blankets and then peel them off if she is stood there naked.

So come on girls, give us a break!

'The Miracle of Childbirth'.....what Miracle?

2006-03-22T09:41:00.000Z

‘The miracle of childbirth’……..what miracle?

I was watching some very crap television the other day and these old fuddy duddy women where talking about ‘The Miracle of Childbirth.’ It got me thinking; at what point does this ‘Miracle’ take place?

Well if we strip it right down to the bare essentials you need two people; one of each sex with functioning reproductive organs; no ‘miracle’ there, plenty of those about. So now the penis goes inside the vagina; no ‘miracle’ there, that’s one of its functions. Now the sperm leaves the penis and goes inside the vagina; I admit that this does feel like a ‘miracle’ but in fact it isn’t, again this is a function of the penis. Now the sperm swims like hell and fertilises the egg; again no ‘miracle’ here, that is the sperms job after all, its not just there to leave unexplainable stains on bed sheets and underpants.

So now over the next nine months a little baby is growing inside the woman, after approximately nine months the baby decides its time to come out. Still not seeing the ‘miracle’ here, that is after all how long its takes for the baby to develop enough to survive outside the safety of its mother’s womb.

So the baby now comes out of the mothers vagina, this may seem like a ‘miracle’ but women were designed with this very event in mind; would you rather the baby came out your mouth?

So now the baby has been born, childbirth is over and I still haven’t seen the ‘miracle.’ That’s because there is no ‘miracle’ involved. What we have is a very effective procedure that works quite smoothly in most cases. A ‘miracle’ as far as childbirth is concerned for me would involve Jesus coming down from heaven and slapping me on the ass as I’m going at it and saying ‘Stephen, your technique is all wrong. Hop off and I’ll show you how it’s done.’ ‘Ah, thanks Jesus. I can see what I was doing wrong now.’ That for me would be a miracle, after all it was Jesus who done the old ‘miracles’ better than any other.

We must STOP the Americanisation of the World!

2006-03-15T10:33:00.000Z

We must stop the Americanisation of the world!

This is an issue that has been annoying me for quite a while now. We really are becoming America’s little brother; slightly less fat little brother. This would be fine but I really don’t think that America has anything we want or particularly need.

I’m not sure when this all started but it has really taken root now. Almost every town has a McDonalds selling shite that we don’t need, you would probably be better off eating a dead dog, if you do this make sure you eat a bull dog, only the best of BRITISH!!. We all have about 100 channels of crap television channels pumped into our homes. Very few of which tell us what is actually going on in the world. We are now starting to see the health problems of America ten years ago. Our kids are becoming obese and even worse than all that, our intelligence levels are dropping to an all time low, a low that I like to call ‘The Brain Washing Level.’

This is a very serious level to let intelligence levels drop to, Americans are the most brain washed nation ever. They re-elected Bush for fuck’s sake. They didn’t assassinate JFK. I read that in America they make young teenagers pledge in front of there parents and ‘God’ that they will remain virgins until they get married. How fucking sick is that? My dad would have been ashamed to hear me say such a thing! I then went on to read that most of the teenagers believed that condoms ‘were designed to break’ Oh for fuck sake! It all sounds like something the Catholic Church would have come out with twenty years ago, ‘no my son, if you put your penis near a girl you will almost certainly become a protestant.’ To me Governments and Churches are all the same, just another way of controlling us.

Of all the nations we could have latched onto we choose the bloody Americans. Personally I wish we had chosen Italy. I love Italy; a country full of very beautiful, passionate people with a quality of life that we could only imagine.

The only reason I can see for Britain being in America’s pocket is to do with money, well when our planet is sitting in smoke and rubble and people are filled with hatred I wonder how important money will be then? I’m guessing not very, but at least we won’t have to walk too far for a nutritious meal ‘shit, since they bombed the shit out of the world all I can see is McDonalds.’ Only the shit will survive. If the world does get practically wiped out, I hope that the survivors knew nothing of how the western world worked and that they find a copy of ‘Harry Potter’ and they call it ‘The Bible.’ Ha-ha, how I would laugh, although they couldn’t fuck it up as badly as we have!

'If he had a Halo....he would be God'...Meet Will Harries

2006-03-08T17:43:00.000Z

Describe yourself for the people who already don’t know you.

I guess I don’t have to tell them about my super-sexy physical attributes, as they already have a picture to touch themselves to (and my penis is discussed below). The best way I can think of to describe my personality is like a thick ball of rough sandpaper with a lime Starburst centre. Then inside that, there’s a cold, black marble. If you can take the time to scratch through the sandpaper (and it’s gonna be painful, baby), there’s a chance you’ll be rewarded by a tasty treat you might (or might not) enjoy. Just don’t bite too hard, or you’ll break your fucking teeth.
I’d say that my thoughts are like a pint of Guinness: there’s a fluffy, off-white head, which is the stuff I actually say. Then beneath that, there’s the black stuff; the shit I’m too scared to come out with for fear of it burning my friends in their eyes. But sometimes do anyway.

Describe your love making technique or lack of?

It changes between partners. Dramatically. Obviously, no woman is the same so you have to adjust your technique; I just happen to take it to the extreme. If she likes it gentle, I wrap my self up in cotton wool so only my cock is visible, then slide it in with a lollipop stick while it’s still soft. I try to get erect as slowly as possible to ease her into the experience, as the phrase, ‘It felt like I was giving birth to a watermelon’ springs to mind. On the other hand, if the lady likes it a bit rougher, I smack the bitch around the head with a two-by-four and fuck her in the ass. Dry.

If you could live in any other country where would it be and why?

New Zealand, without a doubt. I’ve never been there but anyone who has, comes back and has nothing but good things to say about it. I like the idea of building a house there in the middle of nowhere and just shutting myself off from all the pricks and chavs in the world. I’d keep sheep and chickens and have a tree full of crows.

If you could rid the world of one thing what would it be and why?

I’d rid the world of ignorance. People are so beaten down by the government and the media into doing exactly what the powers that be want that they’ve lost touch with themselves and don’t even realise. If people hadn’t been forced into being so fucking stupid, the world would be a better place. I don’t want to sound like some bleeding-heart, limp-wristed, green-tea sipping lefty but if there was less ignorance, and people were permitted to re-discover their inherent compassion, idiots like Blair and Bush wouldn’t be here. Well, maybe they would, but Bush would have the care he needs and Tony would still be in a band.

I love you and you love me, why have we never got it on?

We have, like six times. You were fucking wasted every time (fortunate, as you need to be pretty relaxed to take a Harries Power Smash in the stomach), and after each time you were all like, ‘Oh my God, I’m not gay, don’t tell anyone will you?’ so I had to tell Donna to tell you that as a sex game she fucked you in the ass with a broken wine bottle then squirted melted Pritt-Stik up there, as it was the only plausible reason for the horrific sexual injuries and near-fatal blood loss. Oh, and denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, honey *snaps*.

Describe your idea of heaven?

My idea of heaven would be living my life over again from when I was about 12, with the knowledge I’ve already gained and having the power to do and change anything. Don’t you think that would be fucking great? You could actually see what would happen if you robbed a bank and fucked Lucy Liu doggy style at the same time. You don’t like the consequences? Change them! On a bigger scale, you could dress as a ninja assassin and lay the beat-down on George Bush Sr. as he slept, or get the Green Bay Packers to run a skull-fuck train on Idi Amin.

Would you ever have a threesome or would the thought of your knob being the smallest at the party put you off?

The thought of seeing another man’s penis close up makes me feel a bit sick (unless it’s of yours, which makes me feel like I’ve already died), so the thought of seeing it entering the body of a girl I was already in the process of breaking isn’t particularly inviting. Two girls? Yeah, I guess, but that’s just an extra body to dispose of. And besides, I’m sure you’re not insinuating that my penis is smaller than a clitoris. Are you? I thought we weren’t going to bring it up again after what happened last time. You still have that shallow, circular scar don’t you? Good, you fucking deserve it.

If I gave you £1000 what would you buy and why?

I’d buy some kick ass tattoos. I’d get both arms done with half-sleeves, and I guess I could get a bit of my back done with the rest. If I already had a free grand though I’d be more than willing to chuck in £500 of my own so I could get a full back piece. I’ve already got a small one on my chest and I love it. I got it about three years ago and ever since I’ve had this itch to get my whole fucking body plastered in ink. But I’m perpetually poor and work-shy so you can figure out why I haven’t got around to it…yet.

Do you ever wonder what I look like when I get out of the shower?

Always. As you’ve told me, you’re a grower not a shower and I believe you. I reckon that your cock is even bigger than……mine, and it takes a lot for me to say that. All my life I’ve been told things like, ‘Oh, it’s so big,’ ‘Slow down, you’re hurting me,’ and, ‘I told you to stop calling me,’ all of which led me to believe that I have the largest lad in the world. But no, you have, and I bow down to it’s dangly monstrosity.
I imagine that your hairy back looks like a rock face covered in vines, and that Donna can cling on like an infant monkey and have a wash with you. How romantic.

Do you know that I love you?

I think to answer this one, I’d have to examine your behaviour toward someone you loved, then compare it to how you treat me. Why not Donna? Why not, indeed. Here’s some things I have observed you doing to Donna:

Verbally abusing her
Threatening physical violence towards her
Being physically violent towards her
Pulling her hair and spitting on her face
Getting drunk then pawing at her breasts
Attempting sexual intercourse while both parties are fully clothed (and heavily intoxicated)

In conclusion, you must love me. And I love you.

COUNTDOWN

2006-03-08T17:31:00.000Z

COUNTDOWN

ONLY 200 DAYS UNTIL WE HIT VEGAS!! CLICK ON THE POST TITLE ABOVE TO BE TAKEN TO OUR HOTELS WEBSITE.

Happy Slapping

2006-02-27T15:20:00.000Z

Happy Slapping

Happy slapping was the craze of 2005 and seemingly 2006. I don’t really understand the name ‘Happy Slapping’ as there is fuck all ‘happy’ about it to me. You walk up to a stranger, slap them with an open hand in the face all while someone records it on there mobile phone and then you all run off. Wow, with balls like that you should join the army, I’m sure there are lots of little countries that you could go and crush!

I’ve never been ‘happy slapped’ unless you want to count foreplay which is a different subject all together, but I would like to think that I would have the speed of mind to kick the fuck out of the person and his accomplice just as they tried to do it, but In all fairness I would probably be to shocked or drunk to realise what had just happened.

What gets me though is that we let these little fucks get away with it, people stand by and watch; we are a nation of cowards. People always say the same thing ‘they might have a knife’ Good! They will need an AK-47 each to stop us if we all retaliated at them and stopped fucking watching it happening!

Honestly if you see two blokes about to Happy Slap someone, just wait, hold your position and as they do it just pounce on the bloke with the camera. I choose him because he will be so engrossed in trying to record it happening that he won’t see your fist flying towards his face.

His mate will have legged it because that was part of the plan, he will look around laughing only to see his mate on the floor with blood coming out of his mouth; not part of the plan. What you’ve got to do now is get the bloke on the floor and lift him up, throw him against a wall and pull down his trousers and underpants, tell him you are from ‘The Happy Slapping Division of the FBI’ you can have fun here, he wont have a clue, he will be shitting himself at this stage.

Tell him and all passers by that they all need to take a picture of this semi naked man while he gets slapped by the person who was originally ‘Happy Slapped’ and ask him how ‘Happy’ does he feel now?

Stand up for each other! Stop letting these little fucks run amok! Would this craze have taken off in the 80s? Not a chance! They would have been kicked to fuck by ten people seconds after it happened.

Sometimes Murphy’s Law is the only law!

Molly Crabapple

2006-02-22T10:14:00.000Z

Molly Crabapple, Artist, Model, Burlesque Performer

Molly Crabapple is anything but shy when it comes to putting her sexy artistic image to work. From modeling to burlesque performance, to her driving passion, illustration, Molly Crabapple looks at the world from a lens of nostalgic eroticism, bringing to life her visions of Victorian England and Rococo France. She has drawn for the New York Times Sunday Style section, and has also drawn for Screw, Playgirl, The Wall Street Journal and other publications. Molly also has her own line of mugs, buttons, holiday cards and hot pants for sale on her site. She's done a whole lot more, too, so read on to get an insight into Molly Crabapple's way of thinking and then click on her name above to be taken to her website where you can commission her to do a piece for you.

Describe yourself for the people who already don't know you.

I'm an illustrator and fine artist. I draw saucy Victoriana forplaces like the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and Playgirl. For fun, I dance burlesque at Lower East side dive bars. I used to be a pinup model- which may be why Fleshbot listed me as one of the "top ten hotties of 2005"

For the uneducated can you explain what a burlesque dancer is?

A burlesque dancer is like one of those spangled, be plumed chicks you would see in Gypsy. We mix up vintage glamour and postmodern snark with a hip bump, all while taking off our shirts.

If you could live in any other country where would it be and why?

I spent a few months in Paris. I wouldn't mind moving back there,provided the taxes didn't kill me.

Would you prefer it if your art was worth millions after you died and would last forever or would you rather make lots of money now and your art have a shorter shelf life?

Fuck immortality. I want cash in hand.

If you could rid the world of one thing what would it be and why?

I'd knock down those yuppie apartment-boxes now defacing Brooklyn and resurrect curvy Beaux-Arts brownstones in their place.

Describe your idea of heaven?

An endless sunny afternoon with friends, sketchpads, coffee.

If someone likes the work you advertise on your website, how would they go about commissioning you to do a piece for them? Would you design tattoos?

I've done three tattoo designs and love 'em. If you want to commission a work, read the "Hire Me" page, then drop me an email.

What do you see yourself doing in five years time?

I'd like to do a book. Doing illustrated articles for the New York Press was fun, if hate-mail inducing and I'd like to do more of those. Bigger gallery shows. Bigger artwork. Better, high end customized merch stuff.

If I gave you $1500 what would you buy and why?

A fancy winter coat and hat. My coat has holes.

I'm going to America for the first time in September; I'm going to the city of sin 'Las Vegas' for 10days….you got any advice for me?

Never been to Vegas. If only.

Will you send me a pair of Molly Crabapple pants for free? In return I will get my cousin Graham to wear them on the strip in Vegas; I will take pictures and send them to you, hell if I get him drunk enough I could probably get him arrested and he could claim that the pants made him do strange things…..what you think???

If Graham can fit into medium girl's hot pants, those suckers are his.

Coleraine Football Club

2006-02-15T16:35:00.000Z

I have a dream…..

I went to bed the other night and had the best dream ever; I dreamt that I was the owner of Coleraine Football Club.

My love affair with Coleraine Football Club started about ten years ago when I was taken to watch Coleraine play against Bangor at the Showgrounds by great family friend; Hugh Gault. Coleraine won 3-0 that day and Mark McWalters scored a hat-trick, from that day on I have been a Coleraine fan.

My dream was amazing; I had appointed Iain Dowie as the new manager, he was to be assisted by my mate Phil Podger. I financed the signing of Steve Davis from Aston Villa for £3m and paid a further £5m to sign Andy Johnson from Crystal Palace. Dowie also signed Gareth Southgate on a free from Middlesbrough along with Teddy Sheringham from West Ham Utd.

We ended the season as champions; fifteen points clear of Linfield. We had to quickly strengthen the squad in preparation for the Champions League Qualifiers. I got the cheque book out again and we signed Nicky Butt and Michael Chopra from Newcastle for a combined fee of £2m. Roy Carroll quickly followed from West Ham for £1m. Dowie felt the defence needed more cover so we signed Kenny Cunningham from Birmingham on a free along with Paul Konchesky who cost £500k from West Ham.

On the deadline for registering players for the qualifying rounds we signed Ryan Giggs….it was a dream!

We were drawn against Benfica. We went down 2-0 in the first leg away from home but in the return leg The Showgrounds was rocking as 20,000 crazy Coleraine fans cheered there team onto a famous victory. We won 3-0 with a hat-trick from Andy Johnson.

Coleraine were in the Champions League proper! Our group consisted of Man Utd, AC Milan and FC Bayern. Our first game was against Man Utd at Old Trafford.

We were trailing 1-0 to a Rooney goal with 79minutes gone when Dowie sent on Sheringham for Chopra. Two minutes later, Sheringham chested down a long ball from Southgate, he held off the challenge of Ferdinand, shielding the ball as if his life depended on it. He looked up and spotted the run of Davis from midfield, he slide an excellent ball through to Davis which totally took Ferdinand and Scholes out of the game. Davis flew past Henize down the left wing, he looked up but Sheringham and Johnson hadn’t made it into the box yet, he cleverly cut back onto his right foot and rolled the ball back to Giggs, Giggs instantly wrapped his left foot around the ball and crossed towards the back post where Sheringham had made a great run, Sheringham rose above Ferdinand and the out coming Van der Saar to head the ball across the six yard box where Johnson nipped in front of Wes Brown and volleyed the ball into the roof of the net! GOAL!!!!!!

The Coleraine fans went mental! Dowie and Podger ran the line to join in the celebrations, rumours circulated in the papers that they actually shared a kiss.

The game ended 1-1. After the game I went into the manager’s office with Alex Ferguson and shared a bottle of red wine that cost a cool £450 a bottle, I stuck three in my coat. We chatted and agreed that we would take Saha on loan for next season…..it was at this point that I was awoken to my girlfriend asking if I wanted a sausage sandwich, ‘what are you talking about sausage sandwiches for woman?’ I was not amused. It was at this point that a tingle of disappointment ran through my body, I was upset because I had just realised that Alex Ferguson probably won’t be manager of Man Utd when I take over Coleraine Football Club……

www.colerainefc.com

The Countdown is on

2006-02-15T11:33:00.000Z

252 DAYS UNTIL MYSELF AND GRAHAM HIT THE BRIGHT LIGHTS OF 'LAS VEGAS'

Oh my litle sister is 21 already!!!

2006-02-06T19:21:00.000Z

OH MY LITTLE SISTER IS 21 ALREADY!

On Saturday it was my little sister’s birthday, she was 21 years old, she is now old enough to do everything; apart from have a boyfriend or anything to do with any male, especially ginger ones, apart from my mate Will, he isn’t really ginger or a male, he is half Welsh though which makes him an exception to almost every rule.

The day started off well with the present giving, which I think she done bloody well in! We all started drinking, the wine and beer was flowing at twelve in the afternoon, we all had lunch together and we drank two bottles of Champagne, a few more drinks and it was time to go home and get ready.

I got into a shirt that looked like it could have come straight off the wall of a 70’s drug den and I was ready, a few more drinks and I was rocking and rolling. It was now 7pm and time to go back to mums.

While we had been getting ready my Uncle Willy or ‘Silver fox’ as I like to call him and my auntie Sharon and Cousin Joanne had drove over from Cambridge to surprise Vicki. It all worked a treat. A few more drinks and it was time to go out in Islington.

We got off the train and headed for Cuba Libre in Upper Street, Islington. It was packed, I fought my way to the bar, remembering to always keep my elbows high so that I could catch any amateur drinkers unaware and knock them out of the queue. I got there in professional drinkers time. Ordered two cocktails and proceeded back to the group.

The rest of the night starts to get a bit blurry about now, although I do remember my cousin Graham who had flown over from Northern Ireland to surprise Vicki doing a very good Superman impersonation, but I think the winner of the night had to be Tom who after drinking a mixture of alcohol all day long doing the best Stephen Hawkings impression I have ever seen. I also had a dance with Donna but I’m sure that to the untrained eye it probably looked like she was teaching me how to walk.

I got soppy in my drunkenness and ended up telling my sister that ‘I know I don’t say it much, but I love you.’

We left Cuba Libre at about 2am and as we headed for the taxi’s myself and Graham decided to buy all the ladies a rose, not one of them returned the favour, ladies eh? Also on the way to the taxi Donna and I sneaked off for a sneaky chip in pitta with mayo; who said romance was dead?

On getting to the taxi’s I noticed that my sister was being chatted up by some bloke and I decided to say ‘hi.’ I walked up and said ‘what’s going on here? Are you chatting her up?’ ‘No’ he replied, ‘do you fancy her?’ I responded, he looked a bit worried and said ‘no.’ I instantly replied ‘why not?’ and walked away, I’m a very classy brother.

We got home and Graham decided to put some chicken in the oven and not tell anyone, luckily Donna found it just in time for it to be eaten by a bunch of drunks. We went to bed at about 4am.

On waking up in the morning I didn’t feel to good, I went to the toilet and proceeded to be sick no less than three times, I haven’t done that since I was about sixteen. I felt so cheap lying on the bathroom floor with only my underpants on.

The last word did go to Vicki; she got sick too, in the back of Dermot’s car!!! CLASSIC!

The saddest day of my life

2006-02-01T10:34:00.000Z

The saddest day of my life

This day is etched in my memory forever. It’s the day I was told that there is no Santa!
It’s a very harsh thing to be told at any age but when you are 19 years old and on your way to work, well it’s devastating!

I had to pull the van over and get out for a few minutes, I remember it so well. I walked around the van with my head in my hands; my thoughts were all over the place, in the end I had to get someone else to drive the rest of the journey as I sat alone in the back trying to work out what I had just been told.

‘No Santa’ I thought to myself, ‘but where does my letter go when I have posted it?’ ‘Who eats the mince pies and drinks the whiskey?’

I just couldn’t get my head around it all, I done next to no work all day; I just couldn’t understand why someone would say something so awful!

On the journey home I was worried sick about whether or not I should tell my mum and dad because they definitely believed in Santa, my father loved leaving Santa out a glass of whiskey, and he sometimes even left Santa a pint of whiskey. I decided not to tell them in the end, there was no point subjecting them to this terrible feeling.

It took me months to get over the trauma and now when people say there is no Santa I just laugh to myself and think ‘guess who is getting a bag of coal this year.’

It’s true I still believe in Santa, and how I laugh to myself when people say ‘the best Christmas movie is Santa Claus the Movie.’ HAHA, oh you silly people it’s not a movie, it’s a documentary! That little Elf just looks a lot like Dudley Moore.

I’m not sure on the lesson to be learned from telling us as young kids that there is a Santa and then telling us that there is no Santa….is it ‘Trust no-one, not even your parents?’ What a wonderful world we live in!

I’m not some weirdo for still believing in the magic of Christmas, it’s not like I dress up like Santa or anything, although I think I may have to talk seriously to my girlfriend about getting a Mrs Claus outfit!

I would far rather believe in Santa than Jesus, when was the last time Christmas caused a war? It’s funny that you can make kids believe in Santa and then tell them in ten years time that ‘nah he never really existed.’ Try doing this with ‘Jesus.’ I have no doubt that you would cause uproar! I would love to be in that Religion class ‘yeah sorry, we have been filling your head with shit for the last ten years.’

To me both stories are just as believable but I know which one intrigues me more……..HOHOHO.

Asylum Vision

2006-01-25T19:16:00.000Z

ASYLUM VISION

I keep reading that there are loads of asylum seekers flooding into England every week and the British public are none to happy about it. The main complaint seems to be that the government doesn’t seem able to put any sort of appropriate systems into place to deal with the influx of asylum seekers. I have a plan.

This idea was first mentioned to me a few years ago when my good friend Will said that he would like to see Asylum seekers sing to stay in the country and I think that as interest in the Eurovision song contest is dropping, this would be a good way of reviving the competition.

Think about it, we could call it ‘Asylum Vision’ and it could be hosted by Johnny Vegas. You could still have Terry Wogan doing his bit, saying things like ‘It’s no surprise that the people of Bradford voted for him!’ Instead of having all the other countries voting we could have all the major cities in Britain voting, and the eventual winner will go and start their new life in the city that gave them the highest score……its flawless!

Free your mind and think about it, its genius, it certainly couldn’t be any worse than the current system the government has in place and it would certainly be a lot better than X Factor!

Politics.......I don't get it!

2006-01-25T19:13:00.000Z

Politics…..I don’t get it!

Politics is something I have never understood. I don’t understand Politics for one simple reason, whoever is in power the end result is always the same, we all get shafted and we end up hating the very person we put in power.

The reasons for people being put into power are always things like ‘oh he is a nice family man with good values’ and ‘he plans to save the NHS by investing millions.’ I say good, we will all need the NHS when he finally takes his dick out of our asses! We always get shafted by whatever Government is in control.

I have never voted and I never will, I can safely say I have voted more times on X Factor, a program I hate, than I have for any political party.

The other baffling thing about the politics game are the strange people who come to my flat and put leaflets through my door, bloody hell, they have got all sorts of facial growths and limps, and nearly always one of them has a pair of glasses on with lenses like jam jar bottoms. These people probably collect charity money just for kicks. These people are brainwashed, if they had a brain of their own they would almost certainly go to Spec savers!

I found it quite funny when Bill Clinton was caught out over the whole Monica thing, ha-ha, people were in uproar, ‘how could he?’……..ha-ha……..Welcome to the real world.

These aren’t nice little men, they are power hungry bastards. Think about it, ‘Nice’ people do not want to control the world, ‘Nice’ people do not go to war, they avoid it!

I use a simple equation for politics, it goes like this:

POLITICS = BOLLOCKS

Whatever happened to Clove Cordial???

2006-01-24T16:10:00.000Z

Whatever happened to Clove Cordial?

This is a serious question! Knowledgeable Whiskey drinkers will know that Clove Cordial is a great mixer but no one seems to make it anymore!

I’ve searched on the internet and all I find are bloody recipes on how to make it, stuff like, ‘you boil twigs in a cauldron and put in the pubic hair of a witch.’ Ok I may have stretched the truth a little but I don’t want to have to do a Jamie Oliver every time I want a drink of whiskey.

The only producers of Clove Cordial that I knew of where C&C but they don’t make it anymore, I have found sites on the internet that sell what they call ‘similar products.’ They sell things like Elderflower…..what the fuck is Elderflower???

Seriously if anyone knows where I can buy Clove Cordial please email me!! My 84 year old grandfather and my father are also suffering as I am…..if anyone sends a recipe, I will shove a bottle of Elderflower up your arse!

Cheers

Love is blind and sexual disease is an eye opener!!!

2006-01-19T22:15:00.000Z

Love is blind and sexual disease is an eye opener.

We’ve all been there. In love I mean. I have to admit that I have never had a sexual disease. The closest I got was when someone at secondary school told me that if you had the ‘flu’ it meant you were gay. I admit that being gay doesn’t mean you’ve got a sexual disease but I was 14 years old and now very afraid, how would my father take it? I was almost certainly going to have to stop playing football.

Now that I’m 23 years old I’m even more afraid, every time you lift a newspaper or listen to the news there is some new sexual disease that will turn your willy green and make you talk like Norris from Coronation Street.

I don’t blame casual sex for the spread of sexual disease, I blame 18-30 holidays. I’m serious. Think about it.

For a start the age range is far too wide. You could go on your very first 18-30 holiday at the age of 18 and then you could still be eligible to go for the next 12 years.
You might be wondering where I’m going with this, well stop your internal dialogue and I will tell you.

That means that you potentially have your 18 year old daughter going for a two week holiday in Tenerife with a bunch of 30 year old builders from Rochdale who will be walking around like dogs with two dicks and they will be only too happy to get the old lipstick out. And oh yes she most likely will be attracted to the shaven headed, tattooed baboons. It’s a fact that goes back to Adam and Eve, Girls can’t say no to a bad boy, and these blokes were bad boys 12 years ago, they’ve had time to turn it into an art form. Before you know it your little princess is in lust with Dave, who when he is back in Rochdale is best known by the police and the next time your little princess will see Dave in England is when his picture pops up on Crime watch.

I’m not joking; I’ve been abroad and seen it happen. In England she is your little princess but in Tenerife she is Dave’s bitch. They will go on a bar crawl that has been arranged by the very company that you paid so that your daughter could go on holiday after doing so well in her exams. You’ve basically paid a company £386 so that they could introduce your princess to Dave, a man who has slept with more women than Ron Jeremy, while she is too pissed to even remember her own name. I think the rest doesn’t need explaining.

This is why if I have a daughter she will never go on an 18-30 holiday, in fact the first time she mentions the words 18-30 she is going to be locked in a tower until the day I die, I’m not having Dave try and put his veiny sausage anywhere near my daughter. So don’t send your daughters on these terrible holidays, I bet the spread of sexual diseases would drop by 15% just by doing this. I want next summer in 18-30 land to look like a bunch of builder’s conventions. So if your little princess returns from 18-30 land with an unusual itch and an even worse rash don’t come running to me, remember, you heard it here first.

Oh please god, not the jobcentre!!!!

2006-01-17T20:16:00.000Z

Oh please God, not the jobcentre.

I had the misfortune of being unemployed for about three months recently and what a terrible experience the jobcentre was. Anyone who is genuinely unemployed and I say genuinely because lets face it, there are people out there who haven’t got a days work in them. Be prepared for the jobcentre experience.

I started the whole experience of unemployment quite confident that I would find a job in a short space of time, forgetting that London is a rat race. I knew what to expect from the unemployment situation, claiming jobseekers allowance and feeling degraded every time I had to go to the jobcentre as I had been unemployed once before.

The first time I was unemployed was about four years ago when I first moved from Northern Ireland to Bath. I went straight down the jobcentre and signed on. I received a letter from ‘The claims people’ at the jobcentre to confirm that I was eligible for Jobseekers allowance and that I would be receiving the hefty sum of £18.06 a fortnight, I shook the envelope to see if they had sent me some food stamps as well, no, not a sausage. I was shocked, I searched for my passport to make sure it was still British and not Albanian, sure enough if was British. Must be a silly mistake, I will give them a call I thought. I did. I ended up speaking to someone with the customer service skills of Charles Bronson who confirmed that the amount in the letter was true. I panicked and went straight to the jobcentre to complain. I ended up speaking to a woman who made me feel like I had pissed myself in front of my school mates. I left the job centre and went in search of an instant job; guess what, they don’t exist. I ended up applying to Marks and Spencer and started working for them with in ten days, if you ever read this id like to say thanks to my old line manager Chris Bassett for being so understanding.

When recently my job with Islington Social Services came to an end I had geared myself up with the belief that I know what it’s going to be like and over the last four years I had developed quite a few skills which would see me get a job fairly quickly. How wrong was I? Very wrong indeed. When I attended the jobcentre I was handed a bunch of forms and told to fill them in and bring them to my appointment in four days time. No problem I thought. These forms go on and on. Do you have savings? No, if I did I certainly wouldn’t be here. I was afraid that they might find out that I had a penny jar by the side of my sofa, which would almost certainly reduce my claim considerably.

When I attended my appointment I was shown to the person I had to see by a security guard who had a limp like he had been attacked by a shark. They went through my forms and agreed that they had been filled in properly, yes, the name on the forms matched the passport and the bank statement, check in was over. The lady, I say lady but I think if the security guard wasn’t bitten by a shark then it was probably this lady who messed up his leg with one little nibble. She proceeded to ask me even dafter questions than were on the forms. Ideally what job would you like to be doing? Well ideally I would like to be manager of the Northern Ireland football team or a movie star. Not the answer she was looking for. What a silly question, well ideally very few of us are in the job we would ideally like to be doing. I’m sure when this very lady was asked as a teenager what job she would ideally like she certainly didn’t say ‘I want to work in my local jobcentre.’ No. She wanted to hunt grizzly bears with her bare hands. In the end I agreed with everything she said as there is clearly no room for humour in the jobcentre. So I was looking for jobs in admin, warehouse work, trainee management and security, I think she must have seen my legs and decided she wanted some lunch.

I was then told that I would have to come back the following week and sign on for the first time and that I had to keep an up-to-date diary of my efforts to find employment. I kept a diary that would have made Bridget Jones proud; did they ever look at it? No. Not once. Luckily after about three months I found a new job at a Lidl distribution centre.

I have a few ideas for Tony and Ken that I think would stream line the jobcentre, firstly have a walk around a few jobcentres and I don’t mean the ones in Kensington, come out to Barnet, it’s a classic. You may be mistaken for thinking that the staff are all already dead, they gave up the ghost years ago. Just get rid of the lot of them and then employ all the young mothers and lads who have been claiming benefits from the day they were born, trust me they know more about squeezing out every last penny than Gordon Brown. They would be great; they would tell you straight, ‘get off your ass you lazy shit and get a job.’ Then give the place a lick of paint and Bobs your uncle, jobcentres fixed, watch the unemployment drop.If you’re lucky enough to have never been in a jobcentre I can only describe it as an old run down betting shop with only a tenth of the character. I suggest that if you know your going to be unemployed soon, look for a job now, don’t go through this hell.

What class are you???

2006-01-17T20:12:00.000Z

What class are you?

This is the unusual question I was asked in a bar in Bath and I really couldn’t think of the correct answer. I tried to bluff my way out of the question by thinking that as Bath is a city with two universities that if I said I was in a creative writing class that this would be a suitable answer. It wasn’t. I wasn’t even at university; I worked in the warehouse at Marks and Spencer. Well this girl looked at me like she had just seen me smear my own shit on my face and said ‘oh, id say lower class’ she then turned and walked away, it was then that the penny dropped, oh well I thought, stick another pint of Carling in there please Jamie.

When I think about it now, I would say that this girl was probably middle class. My reasoning for this is that I think the lower class and upper class can get along just fine; it’s the middle class who mess it up for all the rest of us. You see people from the upper classes don’t boast to the lower classes about what they’ve got, they might have a nice car but to them it gets them from A to B and keeps Mr Taxman off there back, people from the middle class on the other hand will be only too happy to tell you about there new Volvo that drinks more fuel than Concorde. It’s also someone from the middle class who will come to your house and be appalled at the mess, while someone from the upper class will think its got character.

I’ve met people from the upper class, a Lord no less and found them to be unbelievably down to earth and very funny. People from the middle class are unbelievably grey, I’m pretty sure that they have had the funny gene that we are all born with surgically removed and then they tie it around there wallet.

After I left the pub and went to a nightclub and consumed far too many beers with my rent money I decided that I needed some food, on the way to the kebab shop I spotted the girl who had started the evening by asking me what class I was. I thought ‘I want a word with you.’ I approached the bus stop she was sitting at with her friends with all the precision of Stephen Hawkings on crutches and said ‘Excuse me.’ She looked at me like I had asked her to buy my last copy of last months Big Issue and said ‘Look, I’m not going to fuck you.’ I expected that there would be loud laughter from her friends. Not a noise or a smile. Then I remembered that they all had there funny gene removed at birth. The best response I could muster up was a shake of my head before walking on to the kebab shop. Only someone from the middle class could have come up with such a mouthful of shit.

Everyone goes on about how the earth is becoming overpopulated, well if the herd needs trimming I say we should get rid of the middle class, put them all on a rocket and send them into space. That way there would be more than enough housing for our nurses and teachers. We could abolish the congestion charge because there would be 100,000 less Volvo’s eating up our roads everyday and the price of petrol could drop as well as we wont need as much with the middle class gone.Our only problem is that the middle class are so fucked up that there rocket would probably hit a meteorite the size of the sun and send it hurtling towards earth and mess it up for the lower and upper classes again.

Weight loss, not for this soldier!!!

2006-01-17T20:07:00.000Z

Weight loss, not for this soldier.

Everyone is obsessed with losing weight these days and it’s bloody depressing. Some people, Kate Moss for example were born looking like a stick and I dare say that her apparent £200 a day cocaine habit may have something to do with the fact that her waist line has remained as small as an ants penis. Then you’ve got a person like Michelle McManus who is a lovely girl with a big character and an even bigger appetite.

Some of us are born to have super bodies and some of us simply aren’t. If you look at me from the right angle I can look like Johnny Vegas’ little brother. I think that I started to gain weight at the speed of a Concorde at around the age of 14 years old. I had asked for a weights bench for Christmas and low and behold I got one. I was determined to turn myself into an ultimate fighting machine; I even bought a book called ‘How to deliver a knock out punch.’ The flaw in my plan was that simply having a weights bench and a book wasn’t going to be enough, I was going to have to use this machine and turn my muscles into solid lumps of concrete. The weights bench came with a book on body building, I read it and it clearly stated that if you wanted to be big you had to eat more; well that’s how I interpreted it. So a quick word with my mum meant that I was soon eating the same dinners as my father.

Over the next few months I ate a lot more than before and I had started to drink beer as well. I worked out sometimes once a week, sometimes twice a week and sometimes not at all. I remember quite well getting out of the shower one day and looking at myself in the mirror as I dried myself and I thought ‘Hello, what are these.’ I thought ‘fucking hell I’ve almost got pecs, there not quite firm yet but this training is clearly working.’ No it wasn’t. As they never ever firmed up, it was confirmed in later life that I actually had man breasts. That was a depressing little moment. I have to admit that my man breasts aren’t as big as they once were but I’ve still got bigger breasts than most gymnasts.

I hate it when people lie about why they are fat. You know the sort of stuff I’m talking about, ‘Oh I only have to look at a cake and I put on weight.’ Really? I can look at a viagra tablet all day long and I won’t get an erection that would scare a horse. So surely it’s the putting of the cake into your fat mouth that makes you put on weight. Just a hunch.

The sad thing is that we can all do something to lose weight, just simply eat half of what you used to and you will see results. The even sadder thing is that most of us lack the willpower to even try to lose weight and we would rather have half of our stomachs removed so that our appetite is reduced. Sadly there are people with even less willpower than that and they go to such drastic measures that they end up on TV with Gillian McKeiff telling them that they are killing their kids. If she said that to me in my own home I think I would probably lift a Meat feast pizza off my table of sin and beat the woman to death with it. Trust me, you can lose weight all by yourself, you don’t need a woman as thin as a rake and with only half the personality of a rake coming round your house, making you shit in a bowl and then telling Social Services live on television that your children’s lives are at risk under your supervision. Just get your finger out and do something about it.

Will I ever have the body I would like? I doubt it, but I’ve learnt to live with it. My health isn’t at risk so I’m not too bothered at the moment and my uncle once told me that bodybuilders generally have small willies, I don’t know where he done his research or how he came to this conclusion but I for one believe him. If I ever get in a situation where a bodybuilder wants to punch me I’m going to challenge him to a willy sword fight, I reckon I will look like I’m holding a lightsaber compared to his cocktail sausage thanks to my uncles knowledge.