Shermanez

I know I was sceptical at first but this is funny stuff :thup:

"for he's a jolly good racist"

shannon2007

I like dark and on the edge humour and tbh I dont even know the meaning of PC

Paragraph breaks are good, lot more easy to read now. This could be excellent

retired_justine

It’s the day after the farce at Gillingham and I’m taking the lads through some new tactics. I organise them into two teams, one team made up of everyone who likes cheese and the other team of players who do not. I tell them to play 1 touch football. “Anyone who takes more than one touch has to go to the supermarket dressed as Margaret Thatcher” I shout. We kick off and immediately Baker takes two touches, looks in my direction, picks the ball up and throws it into the goal. He celebrates and runs off into the dressing room to get all ‘Margaret Thatchered up’.
I got the impression that he wanted this punishment. Ten minutes later he emerges, in a smart looking business skirt and blazer. He’s wearing earrings and a necklace and carrying a red leather handbag. “right I’m off to the shops. Anyone want anything?” The lads just stared open mouthed at this ridiculous sight. I couldn’t believe this had backfired. This kid is a nut job.

Baker came back an hour later, he’s bought some milk, a shepherds pie (microwavable), some meat off the deli (well it’s lovely and fresh and the staff there are friendly), a six pack of Stella, a pineapple, some bisto, 25 scratchcards, a copy of FHM – that Abi Titmus gets ‘em out in it, another pineapple, eggs, some catfood, a yogurt, another pineapple and a pineapple. I’m in my office, and I tell him to come see me as I have some bad news for him. He’s still dressed as Maggie Thatcher but I let it go. It was kind of my idea after all.
“whats wrong boss?” he asks, looking like a cock. “The F.A have met and given you a 1 match ban and a 5 grand fine. You’ll miss the league game against Leeds at the weekend.” He looked saddened by this news. “that’s not fair” He whinged “they’ve got an Asian player, I could have done him.”
“BAKER, YOU MUPPET” I scream in his face “don’t you care about playing football? You’ve got ability but you’re ruining it with this racism nonsense. I understand that it’s a part of your personality but can’t you tone it down a bit?”
He shook his head “no, I can’t boss. I don’t agree with them. They come to our country, they steal all our lego, they can’t swim, they shoot chickens and they hate Countdown. I can’t stand for that. I just can’t.”
I’ve got a complete psycho on my hands here. “okay Baker, I’ll just have to stand by you then. But I can’t protect you from the media forever” He nodded his head.
“oh and by the way, I want you here for the Leeds game, you might be banned but you can still sit in the dugout so I know you’re not doing anything stupid” and with that he left the office.
I got on the phone to Alex Ferguson and asked if I could loan David Bellion. He’s got pace and could maybe squeeze into the role Baker plays. Ferguson wasn’t keen at first. He offered me Ruud Van Nistelrooy instead but I laughed in his face “what that clogger?? No thanks!” In the end he gave in and reluctantly accepted that he would have to keep the lanky, dirty, stupid-haircutted, horse-faced, crap, sneaky, cheating ****ing *****, and he gave me Bellion for 3 months. Excellent.

Bellion turned up the next day and I ran him through some of our gameplans for Leeds at the weekend, then we went in to the canteen for some baby food – it’s what footballers eat. Baker wandered in talking to his girlfriend Krishna on his mobile phone “yeh babe, just call the fire brigade. They’ll soon get you wedged out of that door frame. I’ve told you not to try and squeeze out of the back door.” Baker dropped his phone on the floor at the sight of Bellion “oh christ, not another one” and through a fork at him. Bellion charged at Baker and the pair began to have a ruck. It took a fair few players to pull them apart, although some of the black lads got a few sneaky digs in on Baker. I sent Baker home (again) and told him to come back for the Leeds game on Saturday.

Saturday came and I gathered the players in the dressing room for one of my legendary team talks. I named the side: Gerrard, Louis-Jean, Rogers, Tarka, Dawson, Bopp, Bellion, Evans, Reid, King, Johnson. And sent them out with the following inspiring words in their ears: “you know how when you microwave a pizza and it comes out really hot and burns your mouth? Yeah? Well that’s a bit crap isnt it. DON’T BE CRAP LIKE REALLY HOT MICROWAVEABLE PIZZA!!!!!!”
The lads roared at this and ran out onto the pitch.
I’m sat in the dugout keeping an eye on the game and on Baker, who I’ve got sat next to me. We played pretty well first half, Reid made some exciting runs down the left, Eugen Bopp was testing Scott Carson from well outside the box and Tarka and Dawson were looking sound and were dealing with Deane and Joachim very comfortably. We came in at half time 0-0 and I just told them to keep going as they were.

Back out for the second period we started even sharper. It didn’t take long for the breakthrough – Reid cut inside and fed Bellion, who beat two men and had a shot from 18 yards. Carson could only parry it away straight to King who smashed into the roof of the net. Bellion and King ran to the fans to celebrate. Suddenly there was a disturbance – someone in the away supporters has thrown a banana at Bellion, I look across the bench ‘sh*t Where’s Baker?’ He wasn’t there. Somehow he’d managed to get amongst the Leeds fans. I could see him clearly now – bare chested shouting abuse at King and Bellion. I was praying that nobody else would know it was him and Leeds would have to take the rap for badly behaved fans.
Another pitch invasion – I can’t believe this. The ref sent all the players back into the changing rooms again and allowed play to carry on when it had all calmed down.
Eventually the final whistle came and we were celebrating our 2cnd win of the season. Baker came striding into the dressing room, very pleased with himself, “good win lads!”, amazingly no one said anything about the banana incident. Maybe he had got away with it? But just incase he didn’t I paid a visit up to the CC tv room and erased all the tapes. Now I was covering for him. Has it gone too far? I wondered. I considered selling him. He’s too good though. Only one man can help me with this dilemma……………..

crazyvols@comca

<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Karen Trivett:
Splendid!!! <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

My goodness...can there actually be another female person here?

retired_justine

AFRICAN TEARS - PART FOUR

I drive home after the game feeling a little bit guilty for what I’ve done, but at the same time quite pleased with myself for getting out of trouble. The traffic is moving slowly on the motorway, although it’s partly down to the speed limit on my disability scooter being only 5 miles per hour.
After about 3 days I finally arrive home, and am a bit disapointed that I’ve wasted so much time – I should have gone on the coach. I even considered buying a proper car and getting rid of my disability scooter altogther, but then I came to my senses. That would be a ridiculous idea! Dan Stone and his disability scooter are inseperable!

I walk through my front door and immediately consult my mentor – Captain Birdseye. I remove the packet of Fishfingers from the freezer and hold it tenderly in my hands “hi captain, you’ve helped me out so many times in the past. This time I need your help more than ever…..” I explained the Baker situation at length and waited for Captain Birdseye’s response. None came. I shook the packet. “BIRDSEYE YOU C*NT, ANSWER ME. I DON’T KNOW WHY I ASK FOR YOUR HELP, YOU ALWAYS IGNORE ME”.
What could I do? Birdseye was being an arrogant ***** as always. He didn’t offer any help with my dilemma so I punished him the best way I could think of – I spat in his big beardy face. Take that you hairy peado!, I thought before taking out 3 fish fingers and eating them raw.

It looked like I was going to have to work it out on my own. It was Tuesday already and we had a game against Cheltenham Town in the Carling Cup the next day, so I got changed and walked to the training ground. The lads were playing 5-aside, so I watched for a bit before heading into the chairmans office to ask about the possibility of allowing me some money to make a bid for Man United’s Gabriel Heinze. “how much do you think they’ll sell him for Daniel?” came the chairmans question. “well” I reply stroking my chin “I’d like to make a bid of about 3 thousand pounds. He’s not really performing in the Premiership and a lot of right wingers are making him look a bit amateurish. He’s also quite naïve tactically, a bit stupid, ugly and dirty and he can’t head a ball. In fact, lets make a bid of 2 thousand.”
The nodded calmly. I continued “I think he’d fit into our set up though, he might not get straight into our first team and would probably have to turn out for the reserves for a while – maybe a season or two. In fact, I’m not going to bother. He’s shi*t, he’s stupid and he wouldn’t get into our under 15’s team. Don’t you ever mention that fuc*ing wan*er’s name to me again.” And with that I stormed out of the chairmans office and slammed the door.

I went back to the training ground to be confronted with the rumour that Marlon King, David Johnson, Andy Impey and Mathieu Louis-Jean were involved in a “roasting” scandal of a local girl named Jenny Sharpe. “christ, this is all I need” I said to Paul Evans, my midfielder who broke the news to me. “how do you know this?” I ask him and he leads me over to the training pitch and points “over there”. Jesus! They’re only bloody roasting the silly bitch in the middle of my training ground “OI! YOU FOUR. STOP DOING THAT GIRL RIGHT NOW” they looked up, realised they’d been caught right in it and ran away. For some reason Keiron Dyer was there with a camcorder. “fu*k off Dyer” I shouted, “go back to Newcastle, you dirtly little pervert.”
I gave Miss Sharpe a 5 pound note and told her not to tell the press otherwise I’d blow up her dvd player. She looked terrified and scarpered. I shake my head and head back home. I’ve had enough of proffesional footballers to last me a lifetime.

It’s the day of the carling cup tie in Cheltenham and we take the coach. Their ground is a horrible little craphole in the middle of some wanky little ghetto. I name my eleven – Gerrad, Louis-Jean, Rogers, Tarka, Dawson, Reid, Bellion, Evans, Bopp, Baker, King, and give a long, inspirational team talk about silent farts that smell really bad: “listen boys, there are some evil things in this world – like AIDS, famine, war and of course, really minging silent farts. I want you to listen to this and listen good. I don’t want you to come back in this room if you underperform. In other words – don’t you dare play like a bunch of really silent, really smelly farts!!!!!” and off they went.

In the first half we were appalling, and went 1- 0 down when Paul Gerrard went up for a corner and forgot to come back down. I took him off at half time and brought on Barry Roche.
They all got a roasting at the interval. It was good to see King, Louis-Jean, Johnson and Impey get a taste of their own medicine. Keiron Dyer popped out of the shower room door and filmed it. After that had finished, I told them all that I expected a thousand more percent in the second half and slapped each one of them round the head as they left the changing room, a move I learned from some grumpy old scottish git whose name I can’t remember.
We were a different proposition in the second half, and scored three great goals in the first 20 minutes – a stunning Baker free kick (which he celebrated by removing his shirt to reveal a ‘lets kick racism out of football’ t-shirt, except he’d rather wittily altered it with a felt tip pen to read ‘let’s kick racish INTO football’.
The second goal was a header from a corner from Micheal Dawson and the third was a long range David Bellion strike which took a deflection off Grant Mcann, who is the only Cheltenham Town player I know.
And then the game finished. No Pitch invasions, or any controversy whatsover. A bit boring really wasn’t it? So what? I don’t care.

shannon2007

Charlie

retired_justine

Charlie? What's this Charlie nonsense? I say, that was a puzzling comment. Aren't you enjoying the African Tears saga??

I've just prepared myself a souffle!

BarryLFC

is there charlie in the souffle?

shannon2007

Dont worry about it

retired_justine

No, everyone knows you make souffle with lard, marmite, cheddar and mince.