When Obama came to the bookies

So the show is finally over and the mountains of rubbish can be cleared away. A cities population will go back to normal and 95% of the world can go back to completely ignoring anything slightly political again. For those who didn’t watch or take note of the Obama inauguration last week then ‘shame on you!’ is what I should say but im fairer then that. Will this become one of those ‘where were you when this happened’ moments like with JFK, the Moon landings, Kurt Cobains suicide or 9/11. The answer is probably yes and from my perch at Ladbrokes I watched intensely, hanging on every word that was printed on the screen by subtitles page 888.

For those of you that don’t know, I work in a bookies, and those that do know will be well aware that many times before I have said that the general IQ of a regular customer is below that of a retarded moth who has a glue sniffing addiction. I’m quite sure that their ability to write was taught purely by writing out betting slips and that any other form of English is completely alien to their wrist. So as I sat watching the events in America unfold, the line of customers wanting to comment about the new TV program grew longer and longer.

‘He’s no different to the others, there all the fucking same the presidents are’ - plainly bollocks.

‘is he black?’ - I kid you not.

‘why is there more black then white people in the crowd’ – retard.

and finally ‘what are the odds that he gets assassinated in the next 6 weeks? said two people, including a middle aged normal looking white women who I have never seen before? This lady actually took offence to my reply of raucous laughter followed by ‘are you fucking serious?!?’

‘why not, there’s no reason why you can’t bet on that!’ came her offended reply.

‘There is my mentally deficient friend and im not going to bother explaining it for you, cos every time you open your mouth, I lose a part of my soul to your drivel’

Then I stood up, my arms reached out whilst overseeing the mass of humanity who came from afar to sit before me, hanging on every word I said.

‘This man will lead us into a new age, him becoming president means that every parent of every colour and race can look upon their child and tell them that they can be whatever they want to be, safe in the knowledge that they can’.

But as Obama waved to a nation who roared with approval and delight, I turned to my followers, who sat there, farting and looking for their final 12p to bet with.

You don’t have to be a Blogger member to comment on this blog.

Cheerio

Selby

Abramovich always looks like he has no idea whats going on?

I will start by saying that this blog will not turn into a sports only blog which many of you might expect but it is where my attention is focused on this week. The modern day Premier League is awash with millionaires, billionaires and (bust) West Ham United. But does the amount of money a club has to spend relate to their league position? Top of the pile you have Manchester United and Chelsea, owned by billionaires with United able to print money at the drop of a new 3^rd kit. Chelsea, owned by Russian Roman Abramovich – is it me or does he always look like he has no idea what’s going on around him? - are joined by Stanley Kroenke & Alisgewr Usmanov and their Arsenal at the top of the Premier League year on year. This exclusive billionaires club seems to have the run of modern football, but when you include Lord Ashcroft (Watford), Joe Lewis (Tottenham), Trevor Hemmings (Preston), Simon Keswick (Cheltenham Town) and one time Mike Ashley (Newcastle), the theory doesn’t always work.

Certainly money can buy you glory, just a few years ago lifelong Blackburn supporter Sir Jack Walker bought his club in an old fashioned local boy done good story and won the Premier League in 95. You look at the house that Jack built and wonder if another breakaway group of multi millionaire owners can be formed? Steve Gibson (Middlesborough), John Madejski (Reading) and John Ryan (Doncaster Rovers) are all lifelong supporters of the clubs they own and relevant success has followed.

So as I write this blog, Sky Sports News report on Manchester City’s £100million bid for AC Milan’s Kaka, and I wonder if underneath Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al Nahyan’s Arabic dress you would find a MCFC tattoo or does he have ‘Blue Moon’ as his ringtone?

The point is money doesn’t guarantee glory, having passion for football and your club, still rides above the pound sign.... but a billionaire’s chequebook does help.

The sale of Jermaine Defoe to Portsmouth 12 months ago raised a few eyebrows in the knowledge that Pompy were getting a better then decent player for £8million with Spurs stating that they were getting rid of supposed dead wood by their new manager Juande Ramos. Fast forward 12 months and new Tottenham manager ‘Arry’ Redknapp has just paid over £15million to bring the same player back to Spurs.

Want a quick way to earn £7million quid? Just buy Defoe from Tottenham, play him up front every week, send him to the England squad with your best wishes, feed and water on a regular basis, sell back in 12 months and make an easy £7million. Are Spurs run by idiots?

You don’t have to be a Blogger member to comment on this blog.

Cheerio

Selby

'Say 'Mr Fawlty' to the camera now Manuel!'

‘You have too much spare time’ ‘Work more hours you lazy sod’ ‘I don’t want to listen to you when we meet let alone read your blog!’ If any of these applies to you then don’t worry because you’re in the majority. I have decided to write a ‘blog’, but not in the way that minor celebrities like to post on the internet what they had for breakfast or what their cat threw up today. My blog/notes is going to be a personal look at the world, whether it be news, entertainment, sport, or things to do with me. Comment if you like...

Right then, to start 2009 I suggest we look back at 2008 and one story in particular that grabbed the world’s attention; Ross and Brand make offensive remark on radio horror. The nation – or the Daily Mail offices – was gripped by the lewd remarks made. Lots of people listened – two people complained – and then a week later someone at the Daily Mail overhears a recording of the show and bang! the moral high ground has been taken. The crusade to rid the world of anything remotely rude – don’t fart in the park or we’ll shoot! – had begun. Tens of thousands complain, with the majority not knowing exactly what about, extracts from the conversation take up pages 3 – 12 without saying that they were never broadcast. Poor Andrew Sachs who thought the whole thing had been privately apologised and accepted and moved on from was faced with hundreds on photographers and reporters screaming ‘Say ‘Mr Fawlty’ to the camera Manuel!!!’ camped outside his London home. Interviews with old Grannies queuing up to see ‘I’ll sit and watch anything if it’s warm in there and I get a cup of tea’ were shown saying ‘Sack Him!’ ‘Sack both of them!’ Poor Mable behind her is nodding in agreement before asking who Russell Ross is when her teeth fall out into Dolly’s puddle of wee. Yet the Mail move on by saying that this is what’s wrong with modern Britain – knife and gun crime in tandem with Ross/Brand shame, I kid you not. Once the BBC – who were more startled then a rabbit in headlights – had drawn their sword on the pair, the crusade carried on by waiting for the duo’s next move to dismantle the Mails own land, Brand went to the USA to make another film – ran off spontaneously to make a pre arranged film – and Ross who hosted his annual Halloween party for his neighbours and their kids – Ross sticks two fingers up by hurriedly arranging £700billion party horror.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind Ross or Brand, there ill-advised phone call should never have been broadcast, but apologies were graciously accepted and an acceptable punishment in-house would have been better then the trial by meadia. Remember the person in the centre of this was his granddaughter, whose silence was only broken when The Sun waved some reddies under her nose and we discovered that she is actually a money grabbing local bike – no wonder Andrew Sachs wanted everything to be kept quiet. But the final comment has to be about the Daily Mail, who as someone once said are not so much a newspaper but ‘an idiot's guidebook issued in bite-size daily instalments’.

You dont have to be a Blogger member to add a comment.

Cheerio

Selby