Why Animal Lovers Should Support Cricket...

Disclaimer: This is a pubic service massage.
Here is Kevin.
Kevin Pietersen.
He is a rare cocksucker cockatoo from remote South Africa who was brought over to England because of his uncanny ability as a battyboybatsman. A birdie batsman, you might ask? Yes, as long as you're not a duck, you're in luck.




Watch cricket. Save endangered species like Kevin, the cocksucker "Cockatoo" Pietersen.

Mohammed Yousuf And The Cross Of Changes

The batsman formerly known as Yousuf Youhana might not realize it, but converting to Islam and walking around looking like an Osama Bin Laden clone isn't the key to his recent batting success. No sir, no bowler's intimidated by your Osama look, bar the Aussie pace quartet, who, in recent times, find even #10 dummies a handful to contend with.

Anyway, if you look carefully at this picture, you will see that Mohammed Yousuf might have given the Christianity the boot, but Jebus Christ always watches over him. I think Jebus might have an obsessive personality. Like me. Now, I'm off to chart a strategy on how I'm going to convert Jebus into a cow-worshipping Hinjew.

Who Wants Kookaburra When You Can Have A Crystal Ball?

Pictured above are Anil Kumble, who works really hard on his bowling, and his hence a consistent performer, and Sachin Tendulkar, who's too busy doing other stuff, and hence only manages a decent performance every 10 matches or thereabouts. Seen here is Tendulkar consulting a crystal ball to gauge his chances at the 2007 Cricket World Cup in the West Indies. Before you pass judgment on him, remember - Tendulkar wasn't very well educated, since he was too busy scoring ducks in international cricket. Scoring ducks, you heard me right. Some like the sheep (Fleming, Oram?), but some just love the ducks. Peking duck, Peeping Tom....ah, brings back some old memories.

But yeah, as I was braying, this guy's so dumb that he still can't tell "the" golden goose from a not-so-golden duck.

Zero G Bopara, and Paul Nixon, the Great Anchor

As you can tell, Cow Tse Tung isn't the happiest chappy around, after Australia's dismal losses to the Pommies and the Kiwi. No more Pom jokes. I'll even spare the sheepfuckers. And definitely no Aussie players on this blog for a while. Yes. Aussie cricket boycott.



Right, first, we see the supposedly athletically challenged Monty Panesar, on cloud nine. Paul Nixon tries to emulate the new Flying Sikh (with all due respect to the real Flying Sikh, Milkha Singh) but fails miserably. 'White men can't jump', they say. Also, this might be because of the "heavy water" within Nixon. As you can see, he is clearly a Chernobyl survivor. His teeth say it all in the above picture. He's like a beacon behind the stumps, guiding the bowlers using his neon glow.



But this guy Nixon, he might be a shit batsman and a radioactive freak, yet is a great motivator. He's utilizing the Indian connection to the maximum, as next on, another player of Indian origin, Ravi Bopara is caught defying gravity, and Nixon seems to be the driving force behind him. The roles have reversed. The Indians are seeking spiritual guidance from the West, and gurus like Nixon are helping us curries levitate. ARGH. I don't find any humor in cricket since Australia lost. Sobs. Goodbye pretty world.

Of Duntroon and Sandhurst and a Certain General Monty

Pictured above is British cricket star, and spinner par excellence, Monty Panesar, dropping a 100 at the orders of his coach after his umpteenth misfield to background music by The Midfield General, after which a decision was taken by the CTT Bored of Directors to rename him as "The Misfield General". Very apt.