Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Full name: Javier Mascherano
Employer: Liverpool FC
Wanted by: FC Barcelona

Well boys, who doesn't want to play for sexy fantasy football with Barca? It's the only club in the club that pays to have a 'sponsor' on their front kit. World champions as colleagues, the best player in the world (who is Masch's home boy) plays there too. Let's not forget the food, seista, beach and sun, compared to grim, thieving town famous for the Beatles, now 40 years ago.

So what's the hold up in this straightforward conundrum? The same reason I think why Cesc Fabregas is still a Gunner.

If I may quote Russell Peters, "doo the right thing". Pay up Barca.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Tantrum in a mall

John Bishop is a Scouse comedian or more accurately a comedian from Scouscer. He has a weekly prime time show, which goes to show that if a Scouscer can get on the Beeb, you know you're overpaying your TV license.

So he talks about parenthood, and the famous/infamous scenario of someone's kid throwing a tantrum in a mall. The parent then, spots you looking, gives you a shrug and forced smile.

Public social étiquette puts that down as an embarrassed parent failing to control his/her own offspring. And you on your high horse, proudly and solemnly swore your kid wouldn't be like that, your kid wouldn't throw any tantrum, your kid is gonna cool, colder than ice cold.

John proceeded, no one wanted a kid with attitude. It's just how it is, kid below the age of five is not going to comprehend beyond basic instincts ala Resident Evil zombies . So the next time you see a combo of a shrug and a forced smile, he reminded, it is not a gesture from an embarrassed parent. Instead it's a message for you to look away as this tantrum can be easily sorted, if you just look away.

Bang on, they may preach you should reason with kids, but it's on they mind to whip the shillbilly outta kid to discipline them here.

208. Ci-Teh

Are looking mighty good indeed...potential league winners? Not just yet. But that Toure fella is a tank with a velvet touch.

Monday, August 23, 2010

207. Tweet

The day I tweet and let the whole world know those dark dastardly things that go on in my mind is the day I rip myself a new a-hole...

Erm, now wait just a minute. What have we here?

Thursday, August 19, 2010

206. The Guns of August

If history has taught us anything at all, it would be the fact that we should never ever underestimate the stupidity of others...

Monday, August 16, 2010

205. Dreams

Once I had this strange old dream. In it, I was a kid again, of maybe 8 or 9...doing stuff only a kid can. It was in a safe environment, I can't recall exactly where, perhaps a playground, with the sounds of other kids playing in earshot. And my mother was there, just out of sight, but I could feel her presence as only a kid can, feeling safe no matter where you were. And you could count on her calling you back whenever you attempted something too foolish or reckless as kids were apt to do.

So in my dream, I was playing amongst kid's stuff, perhaps building those wondrous castles of sand, or following a fascinating trail of ants right back to their Queen's lair, or blowing up alien fortresses in some made-up world. Then something caught my eye, an object that was amongst the other junk that was strewn about. It was a can that was filled with water. Immediately I knew that I had to drink it.

Now, the water in the can was clear, and seemed safe to drink, but the can itself seemed rusty and old, and definitely not safe to drink from. Even as a child, I knew that I'd be asking for trouble if I drank from it. But I had suddenly become thirsty, and everybody knows that you need to quench your thirst.

So I reached for the can, full aware that my mother's eyes were on me, and at any time I would hear her voice, low but firm, calling my name to stop me. But it never happened, she never did call, yet I could still feel her stern gaze upon my back, almost visualise her nodding her head disapprovingly.

But I couldn't help myself, I took the can and drank from it. Immediately, I felt a deep sense of regret. I knew that it was the wrong decision, every cell in my body told me so. I turned my gaze to my mother, and quite predictably, her eyes were on me.

"Now why would you do that?" she asked, with that quiet disapproving voice of hers.

Why did I indeed?

"A dream is a shadow...of something real" - The Last Wave

Friday, August 06, 2010

204. Ring Rusty

If you do not cut your toe nails...then they will grow...
Yes, that's my profound little byte for the day.