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By my of thinking I'm free-rolling with my third test prediction as I cain't surely get it as wrong as the Lords' test. Here's what I think will occur though, this is what I think will occur; I fancy someone to win that's what I think. I know, how insightful is that?

Historically whomsoever shall win the toss shall win the game at Edgbaston - assuming they choose to bowl - I shall therefore be wagering on whoever wins the toss. I fancy with the wicket, all moist and unpredictable like a Spanish peasant girl, you'll see wickets a tumblin' in plenty of time that even with rain delays there'll be plenty of time to play this one out.

Day 1 then - England win the toss, put Australia in, Australia about 90 - 5 by lunch and bowled out, after a stubborn tail hang about for a bit, for about 200 in about 70 overs. Or the other way round if the Aussies win the toss.

I can't be any more specific than that I'm afraid.

Labels: Betting, Sport

Last year at Donington for Motorcycle Grand Prix which is a shame. As we speak the 125cc wee ones are using the ice-rink like surface of the track to fling themselves into the gravel traps at 80mph.

The grown ups race at 3:30pm this art'noon. It ought to be a dry race, but who knows. Given the unpredictability of the weather I shall be taking the 10.0 available currently for Casey Stoner and laying off at a suitably lower mark. This is a crazy price given that Stoner has won the last twice here, even with his dodgy health, but we must take advantage, we must we must.

This is a golden back to lay opportunity. It's unlikely he'll win today, but Casey Stoner always starts well and his fitness and health issues don't kick in until about 20 laps into the race. His price ought to drop to at least 4.0 maybe lower before he starts to drop back. Last race his price got as low as 2.50-ish before he was over-run by Lorenzo, Pedrose and his anaemia.

I fancy Valentino to win the race. He has a keen sense of history and will want to be the last MotoGP rider to win here. This was also considered his home race when he was resident here and he loves the track, but at odds on, or evens on Betfair it's too short.

Little Pedrosa to crash is a good possibility so place laying him might be worth a few shillings at 1.60.

Result: Well the betting strategy went the way of half the field, straight into the dirt. Casey Stoner gambled by starting on wet tyres while the rest of the grid started on slicks. Assuming it would rain before his tyres disintegrated; it didn't and bless his Aussie socks he was lapped at one point by race leader Valentino Rossi, who took the lead after Lorenzo had crashed.

Rossi then crashed himself, but got back up and finished 6th or 7th. Despite my bet seemingly being dead, a combination of the weather, some crashes and some cautious riding by eventual winner Andrea Dovizioso, allowed me to trade my way - without necessarily knowing what I was doing - to just a £5 loss.

Funny race. Quite fitting for the last time at Donington.

Also; For some reason Eurosport aren't able to show MotoGP live this season, but show it as live an hour later. The commentators (Julian Ryder and Toby Moody) are brilliant, real racing nerds and I expect them go mental while watching this race - real high pitched squealing commentary, but making sense still, unlike Sid Wadell's gibberish bullshit. If you've nothing to do it's on at 4:30 on channel 411.

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Labels: Betting, Sport

China are re-thinking their family planning policies as their population is aging and there aren't sufficient numbers of working-age adults to care for them. Here's an idea though. Instead of allowing couples to have two kids, why not give some thought to just culling the over 300's?

According to statistics, 30% of China's population is now over 60 Earth years old, which equates to approximately 350,000,000 pensioners. Of that 350m 50% are over 100 Earth years old, of that 50% nearly 50m are over 200 Earth years old and of that number almost 10m are 300 and older.

If China simply culled the over 200's, they'd be fine. But they're not doing that though are they ....noooo. Why not? Because this isn't about financing the care for the elderly, that's a smoke screen. This is about the final push for world domination. God damn it I've been warning the world about this for years.

What troubles me is that we're only just hearing about this now. This process is almost certainly already be in progress. The first wave are probably already amongst us. This would explain why the Chinese take-away in town now has the man power to deliver all those lovely spicy pork dishes and swine-flu is infecting the whole planet. They're not fooling me, like China held up to the light I see through their lies. We must do something, I only hope it's not too late.

Labels: Science

Just a few quick updates on my evening;

I have a cold approaching from within. My throat feels horrible. My nose is blocked. I've had to order some really spicy food from the Chinky Chonks cause I can't taste anything else. Also, they deliver now. I only found that out once I'd got there though.

I can't find out if QPR are beating Oxford. I need QPR to beat Oxford.

Sid Waddell is sorely mistaken if he thinks bellowing nonsense about Alexandra the Great and cauldrons of molten tungsten down his microphone is helping those new to the game enjoy tonight's quarter finals.

I think Two and a Half Men and Home Improvement are under-rated American comedies.

The end.

Labels: Football, Random Post, Sport, TV

I'm going to go with unders on the Norwich North by-election spread. Under 41 percent is currently trading at 2.24. Turn-out low 45%. Ian Gibson's resignation has forced this by-election, the good people of Norwich north are not happy about his treatment by the Parliamentary Labour party despite his fiddling of expenses. All those lost Labour votes won't go to the Tories though, so Greens, Lib Dens and UKIP dudes should pick up those votes.

Labels: Betting, Politics

I'm seeing that you can now phone an emergency number if you think you've got Swine Flu, explain your symptoms and an 18 year old temp will then be able to prescribe you Tamiflu which is a prescription drug which for many people carries with it side effects far worse than the flu itself.

I'm still counting how many ways this is wrong. Of all this Government's initiatives that have had many levels of wrong, I think this one has been the wrongest. If this condition is as serious as they're making out, then you need a Doctor, not a gap student, and apart from anything else, if you really did have Swine Flu you'd be too fucked to ring anyone anyway.

They say the difference between flu and a cold is that if you had a cold and saw a £50 note outside on the pavement you'd get up and go and get it, where as if you really had flu you'd just lie there and watch it blow away.

You're not going to have the energy to go through a check list with a stroppy teenager who can barely read. Just calling BT's customer services is an exhausting and traumatic experience, there's no way you're putting yourself through something like that if you had Swine Flu, you're off to see your Doctor aren't you..and definitely so if it was your child who was infected.

I think I might phone up and get a dozen free doses and put them on the American Ebay website, Tamiflu probably costs loads over there. Please people, just man up and take your flu old style, with lots of water, some sleep and a bit of patience.

One or two facts:

Deaths from deadly leathal global pandemics which were meant to end the human race - population 6.2 Billion:

SARS = 774

Avian flu = 257

Deaths from Swine Flu so far this year = 700 (29 in UK)

Average deaths from seasonal flu each year = 250-500,000 (3-4,000 in the UK)

Labels: News, Nonsense

Labels: Culture, Music

I've just had a nice sandwich. It looks as though I'll be able to keep it down. Still a bit shaky though and counting the cost of the evening has been a very depressing process. I shall never bet again when under the influence. I have found my phone though so it's not all bad.

Labels: Random Post

I don't know why I do it to myself. I'm too old for this. I can't take my drink anymore. The Rosè challenge at the Fox on Monday has taken at least 5 years off my life.

I've slept for 24 hours and I still feel numb. I've still got the shakes. I haven't eaten anything since I downed half a dozen oysters on Monday night, which I have to say were very nice...but still I'm not quite ready yet for solids.

I've been trying to piece together events to fill the void in my memory, but I'm just blank. Completely blank. I often experience some memory loss when I've been on the sauce, but never a complete black out. It's as if someone, probably the Chinese, has just erased the last day and half, I didn't exist. I was a no man. The undead.

The last thing I remember was trying to bet Big Dick off a pot in the PLO cash game while holding six high. For those of you who have played in this game, this should give you some indication of how far gone I must have been.

After that, nothing. I woke up at about 8.30am in one of the rooms above the bar, half dressed, or half undressed depending on your point of view, and with a surreal sensation that my very soul had become rotten and a part of me lost forever.

I drove home, using my instincts, and slept for 24 hours straight, save a few occasions when I had to get up to vomit out some yellow coloured bile which tasted like ear wax. I doubt I can do this to myself again for at least another six to eight months. During my convalescence I shall ask myself some searching questions about how big and clever I think I am attempting a Rosè challenge I could not possibly win.

Now if you'll excuse me I must begin the long and lonely search to find myself again.

Labels: Not Awesome

I feel like I'm at an age where I ought to refine my tastes a little bit. Not quite to the extent where I should spend my time wearing clogs and eating humus, but certainly to appreciate cheese a bit more and maybe not listen to quite so much Bon Jovi.

So with this in mind I was quite pleased this afternoon that I recognised a piece of music on Classic FM that I hadn't heard on an advert for cigars or toilet paper. The Rossini overture - L'Italina in Algeri.

Unfortunately my own overture into a more snooty world was stunted swiftly when I remembered where I'd heard the piece before. It was the theme tune to Alfonso Bonzo. A kids programme I used to watch after school adapted from the book by Andrew Davies. Fuck it, what's wrong with Bon Jovi?

Labels: Music, Poker

It's MotoGP weekend again wooo. Unfortunately it's been pissing down in East Germany ze whole weekend so tomorrow's races look to be more silly bollocks flag-to-flag nonsense so I shall not be having a proper wager.

I will however be having a few shillings on a 125cc and 250cc double, just to makes things more interesting. Although these bikes with their pram like wheels whizzing off a skating rink surface at 13omph throwing their teenage Spaniard and Italian riders many feet in the air, is to be fair, interesting enough already.

Nontheless, my wager will be Julian Simon to win the 125 race coupled together with Marco Simoncelli and his awesome "euro" hairdo, which must weigh 20kilos in the wet, to win the 250's. This pays at something like 3/1 and looks about as promising a bet can look in these conditions.

Labels: Awesome, Betting, Sport

Labels: Awesome, Football

Labels: Nonsense

I enjoyed the cricket yesterday. England almost seemed like thye had some fight in them instead of behaving like over-privileged pampered cry babies. I do so love to see Ricky Ponting moaning. He is the original whinging POM. People forget it's actually the Australians who are the POMS.


Anyways...the concern today has to be England's ability to get crucial decisions wrong and we're at a crucial stage here people. One has to assume they can dispatch Australia for less than the 70 odd runs they need to avoid the follow on, but do they enforce it? Do they people? Do they?

I think they should really, mainly because I don't trust Andrew Strauss' judgement. If England were to bat again they'd either set a monstrous target batting too long in the process and not leaving themselves enough time to bowl Australia out, or they'd fuck it up and get out for 90.

While Andrew Flintoff is suitably hopped up on pain killers and gummy bears and while Jimmy Anderson looks so hostile and Simon Jones-esq and has the Aussies running for cover, we ought to put them back in. Essentially you want Strauss to have to make as few crucial decisions as possible denying him the opportunity to snatch a defeat from the jaws of victory.

My murder of Spanish crows hanging about in NW8 are telling me it's sunnny but humid, so the ball should swing. Possibly the last two days will be the better days to bat. England really ought to be able to see the Aussies off here and end that 75 year hoodoo, so with that in mind I'm taking the 9.8 for an Australia victory.

Labels: Betting, Sport

Labels: Sport

Praise de Laaard for England's batting collapses. Backed Australia at 5.5 before the start of play, layed off at 3.5 after three overs. I shall now rest.

Labels: Betting, Sport

If there's one thing more frustrating than the delays in landing a world class player; medicals, personal terms negotiations, transfer fee, signing on bonus and so on, it's the delays in offloading a mercenary cu*t who thinks he's Theirry Henry.

We were so close to getting rid of this poor man's Kanu last season after he scored 30 goals and thought he was Jesus. A.C. Milan were almost hoodwinked into signing him, but realised just in time that his magical quality was his ability to deceive and took their €25 million Euros elsewhere.

Thank the lord for Manchester City and their owners' complete ignorance and desperation to swap their crude oil money for snake oil. I'm hearing though from my mole in the Eastlands that Adebayor is stalling. He needs more "thinking time" apparently. Thinking time in this case translates as more time for Arsene Wenger to change his mind cause I really don't want to play for a nouveau riche Arabian circus that has no chance at all of winning anything.

If he thought by talking to other clubs Arsene Wenger would get down on his knees and beg him to stay he has made an hilarious miscalculation. This reminds me of a time back in the day when I demanded that a young miss cease bothering me. Don't call me, text me, email me, I don't want to see you again I told her in no uncertain terms. And to my intense frustration and anger, she did. I never heard from her again. Bluff called. Damn it. Bitch.

It seems it's Adebayor on his knees now begging Arsenal to think more of him. Damn it don't we realise how good his goals against Blackburn and Wigan were? Well possibly, it's just a shame those goals weren't scored against Chelsea, Manchester United and Liverpool too. Now I know he reads my blog so I'll pay him the compliment of being honest; you're not Jesus, you're not Thierry Henry and you're not wanted. Stop calling us. Bluff called. Bitch.

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Labels: Football

I'm a cricketing layman, but surely you don't need a slide rule and abacus to work out the second Test at Lords tomorrow is not going to go England's way. Andrew Flintoff has chosen to get his excuses in early and I don't blame him for keeping his Ashes aspirations at arms length. But once he'd declared himself officially ready for the scrap-heap that must surely have been Andrew Strauss' cue to ditch him for someone who can play five days without needing to be hopped up on goof-balls after the first days play.

We have this inability to ditch people of Flintoff's ilk in this country. Paul Gascoigne had to almost go completely mental before Glenn Hoddle found the courage to dump him prior to the 1998 World Cup and I suspect he only did that because he liked creating headlines. Old boys clubs, that's what our national teams are.

England haven't beaten the Australians at Lords since 1934, which does beg the question; why in the name of Jesus at short leg do we play there? Of the 18 games since 1934, Australia have won 9, and one struggles to see how they won't make it ten this week.

Alistair Cook has an average of 27 against Australia and sounds Scottish to me, Pietersen isn't fit at the moment, Andrew Flintoff isn't even fit enough to play cricket any more and his replacement starts crying when ever he's more than 100 miles from the north-east, Stuart Broad is too weedy to play at this level and Monty Panesar is quite frankly an embarrassment. You can't beat the Australians when half your team are either shit or injured or shit and injured. Even the physio is a fat bastard.

With all that in mind, any odds against price on Australia leaps off the page as value no? Even taking into account Friday is going to rain and rain, there must still be time enough for the Aussies to accept 20 of our sacrificial wickets. I shall wait until it's really pissing down on Friday and back Australia to win. That's what I'll do. I'll also have a chunky lump of a wager on Ricky Ponting to out-score Kevin Pietersen.


In other news, I was unable to make it to the supermarket today for sammich ingredients, but I'm going to need some. There's much sport on this weekend and I shall need to graze while I enjoy it. I suspect I won't see day light until Sunday evening when I attempt to make it two in a row at the Pigeons.

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Labels: Sport

I'm grouchy today. I finally got to bed about 6am and made the standard Wednesday mistake of watching Prime Ministers Questions at noon. I should never watch that, 'specially when I've only had 6 hours sleep. I dreamt about John Terry too for some reason. I find it amusing that Chelsea are getting all indignant at Manchester City's unashamed poaching of players with their unlimited resources. What goes around comes around. I can't see how this is any different to how they secured the services of Ashley Cole. Romanced from under Arsenal's nose, but who turned out to be a bit rubbish as he couldn't run with a Nokia e71 up his poo-shoot.


Anyway, I digress. The Prime Minister today was pathetic trying to justify this pointless campaign in Afghanistan. David Cameron equally so. I find both of them revolting. Both of them engaged today in a session of tangential questions and answers so they didn't have to deal with why we're in Afghanistan in the first place.

When some one is lying they attempt to skew the argument off on some irrelevant tangent to take attention away from the initial and more important issue. Anyone who's ever lived with a woman will have become skilled in this. "I'm sick of you getting pissed every night and coming home at 2am waking the whole street up. When did you last take me out?" "When have I woken the whole street up? Name me one occasion when the ENTIRE street has woken up when I've come home. Name me one occasion, just one. You're the one who wakes the street up with loud nagging."

They squabbled today over the number of helicopters or something in Afghanistan. Even when they're talking about people's lives they resort to regurgitating statistics and shouting percentages at each other. Under a Labour Government soldiers in Afghanistan have 13.8 more rounds of ammunition per patrol than under the Conservative Government's Falklands War. Our front line troops are now 6% better equipped today than last year and 15% better than Desert Storm under a Conservative Government.

They should have been debating why they went there in the first place and when they're going to leave. Cameron can't do this of course because he supported this war and needs to appear tough and patriotic and can't be seen to be showing a lack of resolution or appreciation for the efforts our armed forces are making. And Gordon Brown certainly can't involve himself in this kind of debate as he has no idea what the point of this war is anymore.

It's been going on so long no one can remember what it was all about. Terrorism? The July 7th bombers were from Leeds..you don't need to be trained in Afghanistan to blow a tube train up, you just need a semi-detached house in Yorkshire and internet access. Heroine production? We grow that here, and the Taliban had all but eradicated the harvesting of poppies before we decided they needed removing. Building a democracy? We don't have that here yet. We could fight the Taliban for another fifty years and still never achieve that goal.

Eight years this war has been going on. We'll lose because we're fighting a noun. You can't defeat terror anymore than you can defeat prejudice or bad luck. This is about sucking up to America. This one sided special relationship we have with America is not worth wasting lives over. They don't care for us over there, we're the only ones who use that term. America would much prefer it if we just became part of Europe so they could treat us all as one country.

It's nauseating toadying, but it makes the Prime Minister feel important and relevant and his ego and reputation will always supersede the lives of the peoples he's sent out to try and maintain his standing in Washington and put a successful war on his CV and it gets no better when Cameron takes over. Sigh! I fancy moving to one of those caves in Kandahar. One without internet access.



Finally, I've heard tell of a Test cricket retirement announcement from Andrew Flintoff. By my way of thinking if he feels he's no longer fit to play Test cricket, that means he's not fit now, unless he's expecting a steep decline in fitness these next few weeks. Why therefore is he in the team? Why? Why? So many questions, so few answers.

Labels: Politics, Sport

It's about 5.30 as we speak. I'm unable to go to bed until stumps for day 7 of the WSOP main event. One more elimination needed. James Akenhead of HitSquad fame is flying the flag for England in fine style and has just taken a third of Antonio Esfandiari's chips and poor Antonio is a big grumpy bear now.

For the pokerists and Twitterers amongst you Karl Mahrenholz also updating James' progress on Twitter; here.

Later on today I will go to the Supermarket and buy ingredients for awesome sammich making. I have no other plans for this week as yet. Who needs Twitter when you have a blog is what I always say.

Labels: Poker, Random Post

Next Monday is the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 11 "moon landing." I'm not a conspiracy theorist, but I don't think this really happened. If you look at the picture on Wikipedia for example it's so obviously a set up. You can see the roof of the studio for fuck's sake, look;

Labels: News, Nonsense

Labels: Random Post

I've just ordered a pizza. I fancied a pizza. In other news, have you ever seen a show called Two and half men? Charlie Sheen and some other dudes star. I have to say, I do like it. It makes me laugh. It's on Comedy Central 4 or 5 times a night.

The reason I mention this is because the episode showing as we speak is guest starring Denise Richards. She is on my list of celebs that I'd really like to perform oral sex on me on an evening.

Sport now, there's some golf on this week. Something in Scotland and I have employed a mind programming technique to unearth a big priced winner which, if it works, will allow me to buy a piano and at least one pizza a week forever even though they're pound-for-pound the most expensive take-away available.

This technique was developed by my team of omnipotent budgies and involves descending into a deep trance, or sleep if you will and then waking up some time around two in the afternoon and after making some tea, simply checking off three or four completely random big priced names from the list offered up by any of the online bookmakers and putting £5 on each one.

So my choices on this inaugural outing for this technique are: O. Fisher (350/1), C. Pettersson (350/1) and G. Orr (400/1). It's gold and I can see no flaw in this plan. It's just embarrassing really that it's taken me until now to think of it.


Finally the weather; rain and sunshine meaning the Lord's Test match will almost certainly end in a draw unless England can really excel and lose in four days.

Labels: Nonsense, Sport

The Mob made an attempt at the Three Pigeon's quiz tonight in deceptively chilly conditions in the beer garden. While it was a sterling effort, it must be said we were no match for our quizzing nemsiseseses or nemisi - the 'Barbarians' who bring their own chairs and lighting.

Once again we second guessed ourselves out of several vital points and I shall never forgive myself for not knowing Gordon Brown's constituency was Dunfermiline East - I thought it was Goven something or somewhere. Bastard!

Without making excuses for our lack of success, I do think the conditions played their part. Paul and Alan were insufficiently clothed and their brains may have shrunk preventing the retrieval of vital knowledge, while my own inability to remember stuff was hampered by the sheer volume of pork scratchings I've consumed this past two months.

The re-match scheduled for September will be a different kettle of fish. We will win this mother fucker or die trying. It's indoors so the weather conditions "the Barbarians" depend upon as a leveller will no longer be a factor. We will crush them. We will make them look like the Ghosts of Jade Goody. They will rue the day they ever met THE MOB.

Aha-aha-ahahahahahahahahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Labels: Nonsense, Random Post

Kia Hamadani is the official bubble boy of this year's main event. He's not though really. For his trouble he gets a free entry into next year's main event paid for by the sponsor. This happens every year. The real bubble boy then - the last person to go out without winning a cent - was William Blake.

It's poor Mr Blake they should all feel sorry for or thank. If Kia Hamadani won his seat this year in a satellite, he's essentially just been given $10,000. Not bad for four days work.



An amusing hand while they were hand-for-hand waiting for the bubble to burst. A dude was all-in with Ace-Jack (spades) up against Q-Q of his opponent on a board of K-10-9 with two spades.

Someone, probably a random online qualifier, on an adjacent table yelled, "we're all rooting for the guy with Queens - the other dude has a flush draw." Or something like that. What said observer didn't seem to realise was the "other dude" was Bobby Baldwin - winner of the Main Event in 1978 and whom the Bellagio's Bobby's Room is named after.

Hardly a "dude;" no respect these internet players.

Labels: Poker

I'll tell you what people, this teacher who's gone and broken open the skull of one his pupils; I'll be honest with you, it's not the degree of violence bestowed on the kid that's surprised me, it's that it doesn't happen every week to be fair and in all fairness. I mean if the consequence of this loss of control is a life time in prison - which in real terms is about 10 years - or being returned to this hell of a job for the rest of his working life - say another 15 years - surely prison wouldn't seem all that unpleasant? And having taken one of the urchins down with you, you get to have the last laugh, even if it is the manic cackle of someone who is clinging to their sanity by a thread. It's a wonder more teachers aren't dragging kids off for a bit of pay back really.

One mustn't jest though. I'm not of course condoning his chosen act of vengeance. But given the utter contempt little darling school kiddies have for authority and the prevalence of the verbal and physical abuse of teachers, ...I understand.

Conditions within our state education schools are akin to maximum security prisons. Discipline has become just something they used to install in the olden days. I'd confidently lay odds of about 2/1 that the kid on the end of this beating was a gobby little sprog who had probably subjected this teacher to a prolonged period of abuse and mental torment spanning months, safe in the knowledge that the bloke would have no recourse what ever.

On this occasion sadly for the pupil, he had failed to take into consideration that even the most gentle pacifist has a breaking point, and anyone given the appropriate level of provocation would in fact be capable of dragging him off in a headlock and stoving his head in with a heavy metal object.

One must consider the facts before judging either party. State education has utterly failed, comprehensive school pupils are uncontrollable little hooligans, this teacher had had a stroke, almost certainly due to the stresses and strains of his job and this child and his friends were in this process of humiliating the guy at the time of the attack, an humiliation which had been going on for many weeks possibly months. Now, I'm not suggesting for a moment that the kid deserved his brains being hammered out of his head through his eyes and squashed into the carpet, but I understand.

Labels: News

This is a brilliant idea. Gold! Why didn't they think of it before? Let's quell the tension in Northern Ireland that's existed for over 300 years by giving Loyalist areas a grant of £1500 to finance a street party with inflatables for the kids and candy floss so long as they agree to burn environmentally friendly bonfires instead of the 50ft ones they usually burn along with Irish flags and Celtic tops.


If there's one thing can bring a divided community, who have been fighting each other over something that happened centuries ago, together, it's inflatable slides and willow 'beacons'. It's a metaphor you see, Beacon of hope.

Of course, it's all well and good banning the burning of flags and Paramilitary displays in order to suppress sectarian tensions, but it doesn't really mean an awful lot when just next to the row of inflatable slides and candy floss machines there's a 30ft freakin' mural depicting a Loyalist gunman and celebrating the sterling work of the UDU, UFF and UDA.

Labels: Politics

Man, I was just reading through an old post from February where I was considering bidding for the silver socks Michael Jackson wore in that Billy Jean video where he moonwalks awesomely. They were only $600!! I guess he was desperate for money at the time. See here: Saturday Wagering

Oh how I wished I'd have stopped to think about how long the man had left on this planet. They must be worth bazillions now. Bazillions.

In other news I might buy a piano. That's it. Move along, I got nothing else for you. Nothing. What do you want from me? I'm just a man god damn it.

Labels: Random Post

Just before I go to the sammich place I'd just like to point out to John Prescott - as I know he reads my blog for the sammich posts - getting all indignant because John Coulson may have hacked your mobile phone while he was Editor of the News of the World is a little hypocritical considering you were Deputy leader of a party that has over the past 12 years introduced law after law allowing Government to pry into every single nook and cranny of our lives.

You can't log into www.pisswhoregrannies.com anymore without all of Whitehall knowing about it, on my way to the sammich place I'll be caught on at least 15 CCTV cameras, they want everyone hooked up to Digital TV so they can monitor what people are watching, ID cards so everyone's details are on databases which they are anyway and I'd bet good money they even know how many wanks I've had this week.

Not so nice is it Johnny boy when it's your life that's being intruded on? What is it you always said when people compain about ID cards being an infringement of privacy?...If you've done nothing wrong you have nothing to worry about.

Labels: Random Post

As we speak Belgrano are losing at home to Rosario Central. What in the name of war and peace was I doing betting a team called Belgrano? There's still time for some corruption to intervene and turn the result around, but I'm not confident.


Fortunately I've been distracted by finding a fat spider in my clothing. It was in my sleeve and I shall probably never sleep again as I shooed it away on my bed and it disappeared under my duvet.

Meanwhile in my microwave I'm cooking a pie. It's chicken and bacon with mushrooms and I shall almost certainly have some potatoes with it. I don't know about you, but that's what I'm having for tea.

Finally, young Vanessa Rousso has been fortunate enough to double through early doors and is now only about 125,000 chips behind Jeff Lisandro.

Labels: Poker, Random Post

With Dewey Tomko now eliminated and poor Vanessa Rousso just making it out of day 1d with 6,500 chips, one has to conclude that Alan's pick, Jeff Lisandro, who will head into day 2b with a stack of 150,000, will win him the bet. Can we have a moments silence please for my £5.


Amen.

Labels: Betting, Poker

Whenever the Ashes comes around one can't help but hark back to the Douglas Jardine inspired thrashing we gave the Aussies on their own patch in 1933. A fantastic era. If I had a modified DeLorean handy Victorian/Edwardian/Georgian times would be my destination. Fantastic. When the sun never set on the Empire, urchins were put to work and beaten regularly and Europe no longer reeked of onions as the French had been put firmly in their place. And most splendid of all, the Bodyline series gave the Aussies a reminder of just who invented the game of cricket.

Oh how I long to live in an England where men still have mens' names; Douglas, Harold, George, Edward and Henry instead of Romeo, Jordan and Fabio. Inspiring brylcreamed figures who would take a cricket ball to the face and congratulate the bowler on a splendid delivery.

Not now though. I feel no such inspiration from this mongrel Ashes side we've strung together without a true Englishman amongst their number. Just a collection of rejects from the colonies who take six weeks off when they hyper-extend a tendon and get to meet the Queen if they make a half-century. No. This is just not cricket.

I'm an Aussie-phile in all honesty. I'm envious of their climate, their way of life, their cool accent and how they abbreviate everything saving them valuable seconds in conversations. When it comes to cricket and sport in general, I do like to see them lose though, but on this occasion I just can't deny there's a small part of me who wouldn't mind seeing England take a thrashing if for no other reason than to make a mockery of the ridiculous number of sports psychologists, physios and other quasi-professionals the England cricket team have surrounded themselves with. See here:

Labels: Nonsense, Sport

Of all the pointless and irrelevant things occurring today I didn't think the hot-dog eating contest shown live on ESPN, which was surprisingly won by an American, could be beaten.

I'd forgotten about the WSOP main event though and the possibility of one of Phil Helmuth "entrances," which he thinks the whole world awaits with bated breath, but in reality provoke no more than a collective sigh and the awkward unease and embarrassment you feel when someone drunk gets over emotional.


Speaking of the main event, the mob's last longer bet has so far seen Dewey Tomko sneak into day 2 with a stack of about 35,000 - as we speak Jeffrey Lisandro is on about 55,000 and poor Vanessa Rousso who plays tomorrow is at home nursing some sort of cold. I've emailed in to see if she needs ointment applying liberally over her breasts and supple thighs but have yet to receive a reply, she must be asleep bless her.

Just a brief roundup of this weekends wagering before I go. Federer eventually winning and Phil Taylor eeking past the boy van Barneveld has closed out a darned good week. It was bordering on a splendid effort with Jiyai Shin in a promising position going into the final round of the Jamie Farr classic only to suffer somewhat of a collapse and finish no where.

My MotoGP wagers were live for only a few laps. I was right about someone else finally breaking into the top three podium spots, I just chose the guy on the wrong side of the Honda Repsol garage. Andrea Dovizioso, still clearly distracted by his gender confusion, managed to lose the front end on lap seven on a corner where that shouldn't really have been possible.

Casey Stoner slipped back predictably after becoming knackered again and almost drowning in the pints of vomit building up in his helmet. Jorge Lorenzo whose injuries I felt might cause him to give up what with him being Spanish and all, put in an awesome 3rd place performance and might have finished second had he not over-cooked it when making an attempt to pass young Valentino.

Dani Pedrose, who might be rather conflicted himself given how he spells his name, won easily. Very surprised by this, but once he'd launched himself into the lead from the start he never looked back. How his 5ft 5, 7.5 stone body heaved his bike round that circuit for 32 laps is beyond me. Not a good race, far too many crashes this weekend. I've emailed in so they're clear I don't think this place should be on the calendar.

Labels: Betting, Sport

Even for Laguna Seca, that qualifying period was a crazy affair. Physics and poor tarmac conspiring to fling various riders many many feet in the air and dumping them somewhere they knew not where until the gas and air and smelling salts had kicked in.

If we were mercenary sombitches we'd be squealing in delight at these crashes as two of them belonged to Jorge Lorenzo and one Casey Stoner, which may just put them out of contention for tomorrows race affording one of our long shot dark horses an opportunity to line our pockets with monies.

I'm not mercenary though, not much anyway. I do like the spectacle of a good crash, but I much prefer it when the rider gets up immediately and searches for the nearest steward on a scooter to whizz him back to the paddock where his glamourous underwear model girlfriend will administer some alternative medicine and feed the poor chap grapes. I don't like to see them hurt is what I'm saying.

Young Jorge who I have come to admire recently, looks in terrible shape with a possible dislocated shoulder and a wee fracture in his foot and these injuries are of the worst kind for this brand of motorcycle racing. He is a tough little mite, but surely heaving a MotoGP bike round this particular track for 32 laps with those injuries is beyond even his pain threshold no?

Casey Stoner had a similar crash, but escaped unhurt. Unfortunately, he was already fucked. He looks translucent, if he weren't wearing his leathers you could certainly see through him. Just like my condition in Vegas in April after a 14 hour Martini session. I looked in the mirror and could see behind me. I had the luxury of 24 hours sleep though, young Casey has to go racing and one can only imagine how much vomit will accumulate in the poor chaps helmet over race distance.

Meanwhile Valentino Rossi managed to stay on his bike qualifying in second which was a great result and assuming he can stay upright will almost certainly win tomorrow. The other two podium spots are up for grabs and my choices to occupy at least one of them will be 33/1 shot Andrea Dovizioso and 66/1 shot Chris Vermeulen - each-way of course.

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Labels: Betting, Sport

It's just a week, a week people, since Assen but all the way over on the west coast of Merca it's race weekend again. Wooo, high five.

Now then, if Laguna Seca were offered up to the FIM - the Governing body of MotoGP racing - today as a potential track for future seasons, the Italian powers that be in their swanky offices in Geneva would be "Mama Mia"-ing and fainting in horror. "Zut Alors!" the French executives would gasp. "Are you out of your freakin' minds?" the American technical directors would scream splashing their doughnuts all over the plans for the track laid out before them. Coffee would go everywhere. FIM President Vito Ippolito wouldn't say anything as he's from Venezuela and would be enjoying a siesta.

It's a dangerous track is what I'm saying. It disappeared from the MotoGP calendar as it was too dangerous, but remained a World Superbike track, which from a betting point of view is significant as a few old WSB riders are now riding for MotoGP teams - Vermeulan and Edwards have done well 'specially, it's also Colin Edwards' home race.

It's been back since 2005, but still not in the slightest bit suited to MotoGP bikes which can reach 170mph in the time it takes to say 170mph. It has a 300ft elevation from it's lowest point to it's highest. There are no straights to speak of so a lap is 2.2 miles of just twists and turns and this chicane come cliff-face called the "Corkscrew," which takes the riders on a 30ft decent in about 0.25 of a second. That's about the height of my house. Look this is it;

That picture doesn't do it justice. Imagine going down this on a MotoGP bike:

So anyway, last year was hide behind the sofa racing. Really quite awesomely terrifying. Hairs up on the back of the neck, balls the size of gob-stoppers and so on. Valentino Rossi eventually out bottling young Casey Stoner who ended up unceremoniously in the dirt on the last corner after finally succumbing to the sheer terror that must have been thrashing through his veins for 32 laps. Highlights here:

This track is to say the least unpredictable, if it were a woman it would be a constantly menstruating bipolar alcoholic heroin addict. From a racers point of view it's probably a nightmare, from a racing fans view it's fabulous as let's face it the prospect of some awesome crashes is one of the appeals of motor sports. From a punting point of view it can offer up some big priced gems and it is these my team of singing squirrel and I will be mining for this afternoon and this evening after qualifying somewhere around 10pm.

As we speak we can rule out Casey Stoner who has all but admitted already that he can't win. If you have some decent funds available he is a lay at 3/1. He'll almost certainly be vomiting in his helmet again with all the uncompromising undulations of this track. Jorge Lorenzo looks fast but is having to learn the track again after crashing out on the first lap of his debut last year. Little Dani Pedrosa is too little for such a demanding track. This leaves the door open for a dark horse podium finisher.

Chris Vermeulen, despite having an unsightly mole on his cheek has managed a podium finish the last two years clearly benefiting from his experience of the track from his World Super Bike days. If he hadn't crashed yesterday I'd be rather enthusiastic about an each-way wager for him currently available to win at 40/1 (top 3 1/5 odds).

The two Mercans haven't got a chance: Colin Edwards has just said so and Nicky Hayden who won here in 2005 and 2006 on a Honda cannot ride his Ducati - despite having impossible straight and white teeth - the bike was built for Stoner and no one else can get to grips with it, or at least that's young Nicky's excuse and he is sticking to it.

Other outsiders possibly maybe might be Andrea Dovizioso who appears to be over coming the burden of having a girl's name and maybe possibly if there are some crashes, Tony Elias.

My pre-qualifying prediction for the race then people is:

1. Valentino Rossi
2. Jorge Lorenzo
3. Chris Vermeulen

Of course the most the MOST unpredictable of results would be the predictable Rossi win (who was fastest in practice yesterday), Lorenzo second (he was second fastest in practice yesterday) and Stoner third (third fastest but really struggling), but let's just assume that won't happen as it'll spoil our fun.

Labels: Betting, Sport

I've just been out to buy a pint of milk. Guess what, go on guess...?



...I knew you wouldn't get it. They're not for sale no more! The Spar has gone metric!! I had to purchase 500mls instead. Is this a recent thing? I knew this would happen. I bet the Government introduced this when the news channels were busy interviewing Al Sharpton about Jacko's nose.

I don't care if Imperial measurements are antiquated and make little sense in today's world where people are now so many funny shapes and sizes, but damn it, milk from these containers, it just doesn't taste the same.

Back off Brussels, or you'll be receiving an email 20 times worse than the one I'm getting ready for Gordon Brown. Do you hear me? Hören Sie mich? Pouvez vous m'entendre? Bastards.


I do so hate to begin the day with my dander up don't you? I've forgotten now what I really wanted to talk about. Ummmmmm, oh yes, Tennis. I'm going to bet on Andy Roddick today. I have a few quid to spare after wagering on Keltic Lord yesterday which I was able to back at a juicy price of...look away Paul....18/1 WOOOOOO HOOOOOOO.

My justification for such a seemingly DOA wager is simply that I don't like Andy Murray and I want to profit when he finally fails, which, given his inherent Jocklitude, should be any time now.

Also, I'm hearing from my man in London that it's going to rain today, this will mean a Centre Court with the roof closed and an air conditioned environment which will suck the humidity from the place giving Roddick's serve an extra bit of zip no?

Possibly, but more than likely Murray will just choke and all those fat English women who forego their dignity and surrender their shame when throwing their flabby arms in the air and squealing in delight like pigs rolling in a puddle of mud whenever he wins a point will be silenced, affording them valuable time to re-evaluate their allegiances and remind themselves that he is a Scottish subordinate who ought to be working the granite mines in Aberdeen and not worthy of their praise.

Finally, it's stage one of the hellish nightmare of the tour of France tomorrow. It's not the demands on stamina which make this race such an ordeal, it's simply that you have to see so much of the country.

People initially mocked François Grosvalet who was the sports advisor to the French penal system who came up with the idea of a Tour de France for the nation's convicts. But I'm telling you, it's worked.

The 200 rapists and murderers who took part in this tour are now the most law abiding and passive citizens in the country. It's no coincidence of these 200 most dangerous of men who had racing bicycles underneath them, none of them made an attempt at a break-away from the peleton. They were in no hurry to see France even if it offered an opportunity to escape.

Anyways, I'm backing Fabian Cancellara to win stage one. He seems to be showing the most enthusiasm of all the competitors to get this stage over with a quickly as possibly.


Today's wagers: Andy Roddick win; Fabian Cancellara to win Stage one of The Tour of France

Labels: Betting, Sport, Weather