Friday 31 January 2014

My Six Nations post *warning SPORT related

Ha! Reading the predictions for the Six Nations Championship in the Guardian is always a "treat". Funny how they pretty much go for their own countries. Me? I don't know. I think it could be almost anyone's.

France aren't quite as strong as they should be and they have the disability of the sometimes disastrous Saint-Andre at the helm (why oh why would you choose him over Gaulthier, French Rugby people? Tell me he didn't want it, please tell me that!), but there's always the Toulouse factor to consider (watch out for Louis Picamoles - he's one of the very best back row players in the world at the moment. I'd love to see him play alongside Richie McCaw… That should put the kibosh on him then. Sorry in advance, Louis) and Wesley Fofana is on fire at the mo.

Wales? They've got a difficult draw (like we had last year) so who knows? Just because no one's done three in a row for a while, doesn't mean they can't. They're probably the most established and (hopefully) settled team in the tournament, so why not? They can play some beautiful rugby when they get their shit together and they certainly know how to win these days.

Ireland? I'm tempted to say no but I think that's dangerous. I never discount them and neither should you. They put the frighteners on the All Blacks in the Autumn (even more than the English did) and it's O'Driscoll's final tournament. Bod is the man, the single best player in the professional era, in my opinion. If anyone can pull it off, he can.

Scotland? They're improving (funnily enough since Robinson's been gone. Can I get an "amen"?). They had a pretty good autumn series (a good win against Japan and two losses, but I'm talking about the playing rather than results) and they did come third last year - above France and Ireland.

Italy? To be honest, I'm not sure what's going on with them at the moment but I'll be interested to see some of the young players from the Top 14 in there. They can surprise you when you least expect it.

As for England, I never assume anything. There's quite a few newbloods in the squad and Lancaster has finally got rid of Ashton for the French fixture. Let's hope he's not knee-jerked back in there too quickly if things go wrong. The Vunipola brothers can be thrilling to watch (especially Billy), Farrell seems settled in at 10, and our back row is once again an embarrassment of riches even without Tom Croft. Let's hope they fire. We need to sort out our back line. We need some slippery little suckers who can cut defences up and not run into them and wonder why lying flat on their backs in the mud. Invention, boys, it's all about invention. More than anything, I hope Joe Lauchbury has a fabulous tournament. He's a Wasp and I'm a Wasp until I die.

Fact is, these days I know more about the French Top 14 than I do of the Premiership. It's difficult for me when France and England play because part of me has an investment with our cousins across the ditch (The Yatesies are Toulouse fans). Still, England need to find their form and their team. World Cup's next year and it's at home. Better hurry, Mr Lancaster.

Saturday 11 January 2014

A Musing upon the Shitdickery of Fat Shaming

Here's the thing - If you use the word "fat" as an insult to me, I'm going to assume that you're a cunt and it will be forever marked in my mind (and thusly the mind of the cosmos) that that is what you are. As an habitual and frequent cusser, I don't use the "C" word very often because I like to save it for the times when I need to inject some proper vitriol into my sentiment … but back to the point. Insulting anyone in such a way is a mass transit route to Ballbaggery Central, but FYI dickwad, you might want to take a good long look at yourself before you start focussing on my grandeur in a negative way. The irony of ironies is the types who like to use that sort of bear-baiting tactic never seem to be Mr or Mrs Oil Painting themselves. Who is?!

Being a skinny, I have been informed, is better than being a fatty. How so? Just because you can't see it on the surface, don't mean your shit's not fucked up inside. You might also want to look at the state of your skin/hair/teeth/manners/temperament/intellect etc before insinuating that I'm not quite up to scratch because of my fat arse/gut/thighs/chops et al.

If you think that me being fat is the worst thing you can insult me with, then you know very little about me or the world in general. Caught in your bubble of smug "I Alone Am Best"-ness, you seem to have not understood that underneath surfaces there lies a plethora of other stuff we should pay attention to when getting to know others. Stuff that's good, stuff that's bad. Indeed, beneath my ampleness there are a multitude of things you could use against me. But calling me out for being fat is easy, isn't it, you lazy twat. But ha! I have drawn you in to my cul-de-sac of In Your Face, because I couldn't give a shit about any of those other things either, I'm at peace with who I am, that's why I don't feel the need to do others down without cause - you should try it sometime, knucklehead. Going around judging people who don't need to be judged (judgement and condemnation are the cheapest currency of the blindly smug) makes you the Pit of Despair, not those you are judging. Good luck with your dickwaddery of negativity, Shallow Hal, because the overriding truth is AT LEAST I'M NOT YOU, with your tiny mind and rote passive-aggressive putdowns (people are very rarely direct when they're trying to tell you that you're fatness bothers them in some way - indeed usually they will deny it all together and dance around it, like the pinch-footed gnat-dicks they really are)

Remember, lovelies, someone looks you up and down and makes some sort of negative remark or insinuates some cheap shit because of your appearance, big small tall or short etc, all you have to do is look (sometimes you have to really look and listen, but mostly it's blaringly obvious) at the person delivering the shitdickery and you realise, with a big old sigh, that nobody is perfect, least of all the tiny mind that thinks your appearance defines you and that your girth is the worst crime of the century. Bit fucking rich, is normally my first reaction. I'd rather be me than some pigeon-toed brain freeze who has all the smarts of a crumbling brick. Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, shitkicker, your time is up.

Besides, I'm very good in bed. You should be so fucking lucky.

Thanks to the Prof for the clip x