Saurav Ganguly Joins Rahul Dravid For A Training Session

The goonda of the Indian cricket team, Saurav Goonguly trains with his successor, Rahul Dropit, prior to the Indo-Porkistan series. The song being played in the background is Snoop Dogg's "Drop Him He's On Pot".

Ex Pakistan Cricket Captain and Pace Bowler, Wasim Akram Kills Two Birds With One Stone

The other day, former Porkistani paceman, match-fixer and captain, Wasim Fulcrum, who is also the face of that famous brand of sub-continental bleaching cream, 'Fare and Chubbily' was heard making claims about the ICC being racially biased. Seen here is Fulcrum with former Indian match-fixer, the blue-blooded, well-connected Ajay Jadeja, who was one of the many cricketers who started bleaching their faeces, taking a cue (and free samples) from Wasim Bhai.

Andrew Symonds Goes Wacko For Schmackos!

Observer A) I've seen cricketers endorse everthing from car tyres to birth control pills - okay, maybe not the pill. But this - this is INHUMAN, literally. Seen above is the little boy of the Aussie cricket side, Michael Clarke, petting Andrew Symonds, Australia's best one day cricket player, who is playing a canine in the new Schmackos pet food advertisement. Notice Clarke's innocent-little-boy-glee at his doggie standing upright, even as Symonds is delighted to be fed Schmackos 'strapz'.

I ask you, is there no end to this advertising tomfoolery?

Observer B) Andrew Symonds is rewarded by his jubilant and youthful master, Michal Clarke, for another brilliant performance on the field with the tastiest dog snack in Australia - Schmackos!

Ajit Agarcar, Indian Cricketing Passenger Seeks A Lift Or A New Profession

Observer A) Lethal Indian paceman, Ajit Agarcar is trying to stop a car, so he can get a lift back home.

Observer B) After being unceremoniously (what do you want next? functions to commemorate the axing of a player from the cricket squad?) dumped by the Indian cricket selectors for the 435645th time in a month, Ajit Magarcar (That's croco-motive [ala` cyborgs], for the uninitiated) is undergoing vocational training as a traffic policeman. Because he's out of a job, he couldn't afford to pay for the new uniform. We thought bringing his plight to your notice might evoke the Mother Terrorsa in you.

Makhaya Ntini, Move Over

Gotta admit, South African rapist, and part-time bowler, Papaya Ntini bowled exceptionally well at the WACA today, which isn't far from my office. How sad is it that my boss didn't beg me to go watch the match instead of sitting in office and wasting my day away on bloody work.

Seen here is Australian cricket captain, Ricky Ponting, or Ponting, "The Daunting" as he's proving to be. Pace bowlers don't scare him, no sir.



But puny little cockroaches are another matter altogether, as we discovered from his see-through pants, and the, umm, little yellow spot down, uh, there. I'm having my dinner man, can you not talk about excreta or cow-dung for once. :-@

Also, I would like to state here that I, or my fellow cows are not related to Buffalo Wings, right? Cow Tse Tung's Sporting Wingettes are perfectly healthy alternatives to health-food, unlike buffalo wings.

Administering Cricket, S&M Style

Aussie cricket captain, Ricky Ponting wasn't amused when Ehsan Mani threatened to whip the South African and Australian teams if they dared misbehave on the field this Test series.

I fully support fining Graeme Smith for as much as setting foot on the field, when he should be away in a mental institution, having kinky gay sex with Andre Nel. C'mon, the straitjackets are more than just what you think they are.

PS: Don't miss out this month's X-Mas Hellfire do in Sydney, Mr. Mani. You would fit right in with your sexy attire and manner.

Disco Kumble Teaches The Sri Lankans A Thing Or Two About Dancing!

This picture was taken by our Staff Deporter, in an exclusive Delhi nightclub. Pictured, and narrated in order of importance is John Travolta's babe from Saturday Night Fever, high quality Yamaha amplifiers, and fancy disco lights, besides the fantastic dance floor. Oh, and we also have Indian cricketer and leg-spinning, medium-pace bowler, Anil Kumble, or (Anal Crumbly, as some like to call him) shaking his booty after taking 6 Sri Lankan wickets in the second Test at Feroz Shah Kotla, Delhi. If you're wondering what song he's dancing to, its called "Saala Zenana", a famous Bollywood disco tune from the 70s.

Some Glib And Some Not So Glib Criminal Masterminds

Herschelle Gibbs is a marked man these days. First, the Indian police wants him. Now, he's showing up on Interpol Most Wanted lists with his evil twin and perennial Austin Powers nemesis, Dr. Evil.

Ex South African coach, Ray Jennings had this to say, when we asked him to comment on the situation: "Looks can be deceptive. Herschelle is more glib and daft than he looks. Give the poor kid a break."

Andrew Flintoff, Yer Such A Diva!

Observer A) Rather than get a good night's sleep before England's ODI game against Porkistan on Monday mourning, Andrew Flintoff will be UP on Sunday night, awaiting news from major media outlet, BB Singh on whether he is the Personality-free Sportsman of the Year.

A piece of advice for you mate - it doesn't pay to be a diva all the time.

Observer B) Opera singer Jon Christos reveals that Andrew Flintoff, who he will coach at singing, would give up cricket for his other passion....
"He said he would trade it all in to do what I do. He's very passionate about singing, so I said, 'Let's get together'. He's a big karaoke man and he loves crooning."

The Direction Indian Cricket Is Headed Towards...

There have been numerous articles on Indian cricket's demise, Australian coach Greg Chappell's Nazi tactics with the players, and of course, Chappell's middle finger gesture to the Calcutta crowd (which has been termed by Jagadish of Cricket 24x7 as Hooghligans - that was genuinely funny, ADMIT IT).

Well, a source sent us this poster, from BCCI's forthcoming media onslaught, which clearly defines where Indian cricket is headed, denies that Chappell is a Nazi, and explains exactly why Chappell's inflated middle finger was sticking out of a bus window. Yes, you guessed it right - it's a seasonal condition, genetic, I might add. And no, it was NOT elephantiasis, as previously speculated.

Are The Poms Mama's Boys?

Isn't Matthew Hoggard the perfect child? :-O

Oh, and my most gracious moos to Patrix, over at DesiPunkdit, for featuring this blog on the *sobs* index page *sobs* (I know, I know - blogs have mainly index pages :-@, but we got featured, so pay them a visit and say DANKE).

Bitch Report - Complaints About Unhelpful Indian Groundsmen

Insider sources, such as ants, grasshoppers, and locusts have told us that the groundsman over in Chennai refused to accede to the demands of the Indian skipper, Growl Rabid, to make the pitch more Indian-bowling-attack-friendly, by placing pace-enhancers and turn-accelerators (top secret ISRO research on cricket led to the development of these technologies) under it, and activating them only when the Sri Lankans were batting.

Rabid is then said to have requested the Indian government to import Shahid Afridi, a demand that was turned down, because India does not believe in importing humans, primarily because feeding the billion-and-one-th man will prove to be a hard task.

Indian secret service, RAW thought they could kidnap Afridi, but Pakistan's ISI has proved to be smarter than them, and that's not just a recent thing. Rabid then exercised his last option - consulting with key Indian gurus like the spirit of Osho Rajneesh's pet iguana. This particular holy ghost presented a solution, which led to Rabid making a formal request to the Indian government to confer on Afridi the greatest honor known to mankind - an honorary Indian citizenship, and a passport that is better than the best toilet paper you have ever used. Will it work? Only time will tell.

It All Started Over A Bottle of Pepsi...

Sharkfin Tendulkar vs. Growl Rabid. Kabbadi Style Fe Di Rudeboy. And I must tell you, if I ever catch you spelling "THE" as "DI", and you're not a Rasta, I will whack you with a fucking cricket bat.

Arrey Diwano, Mujhe Pehchano, "Hay Homie, R E C O G N I Z E"

Former Indian cricket captain, Saurav GanCoolie, Prince of Calcutta Railway Station Coolie Association. Reminds me of a Flaming Lips song, "Bad Days".

You’re sorta stuck where you are
But, in your dreams you can buy expensive cars,
Or live on mars
And have it your way

And you hate your boss at your job
Well in your dreams you can blow his head off
In your dreams
Show no mercy

Let's Do The Twist AGAIN!

Third-rate South African player, Andre Nel whips up some traditional Swahili black magic, to get rid of the Indian captain. His chant, "Inga Boonga etc etc" is sung to the tune of Chubby Checker's evergreen "Let's do the twist", and roughly translates into:
" Come on let`s twist the Indians again,
like we did the past 100 summers!
Yeaaah,let`s twist their necks again,
like we did the last 100 years!"

I Is Being Shaktimaaan. I Is Being Supercaptaaan.

Observer A) Every time I see this picture, I think of the classic Moloko album, "Do You Like My Tight Sweater?", for the sole reason because I feel Dravid's asking his desi female fans, "Do You Like My Tight...ummm...TIGHTS?".

Observer B) The secret of my success - wearing chaddhis on my pants, ala every Western superhero. Yesssss.

I have an urge to start a Bollywood-focused blog on the lines of Cow-Tse-Tung's Cricketing Vignettes :-( .

This Ain't No Wrestling Arena

Observer A) Andre Nel's been watching too much fake-wrestling.

Observer B) Seems like the South Africans take the "inflicting a crushing defeat on your opponents" phrase literally.

The Fatal Embrace

A shining example of Hindu-Muslim unity - the friendship between mentor Saurav Ganguly, and perennial rookie, Mohammed Kaif.

I Shot The Ponting...But I Did Not Shoot No Gilchristuty

Observer A) Ricky Ponting is shot by Stuart MacGill, after the latter was dropped from the Aussie Test squad for the 4618302th time. MacGill was heard saying, "I just wanted him to feel MY pain". Yeah, right. Psycho.
Observer B) "Steward" (he's been twelfth man for so long, c'mon!) McGill unleashes his inner demon, better known as Corporal P. Unishment on the Aussie Captain, Sticky Daunting.

Billa, Pass Me the Bong Yaar

As a rule, Indians are sucky surfers. But, Surfbhajan Singh, erstwhile "lethal" (really :-O) spinner tries to prove the critics and blue-eyed, blonde-haired, tanned Caucasian surfie wrong.

I'm-A-Goin'-Huntin'

"Fatty" TenDullCar's next meal?
Will somebody call PETA and tell them what's going on?!

Sharminda Chaminda?

Bum-In-Da-Lass (yeah, yeah, who'd be cruel enough to call their child THAT?) can't seem to come to terms with being hit all over the place by the resurgent Indian team.

Observer B)
Bum-in-Da-Lass: I might not be able to bowl, but I can still stare you bitches down, and fucking out.

A Fist of Joodi :-O ; Wing Chun in Cricket

Human pest, Ha Ba Yansin, disciple of the esteemed Wing Chun sifu, Yip Man, is seen dislodging Growl Rabid with the classic "one-inch-punch", after Rabid called him "Joodi Garland". Joodi Garland. Get it?

Back-dated post.

The Strange Case of 'Butterfingers' Pietersen

Observer A) Here is pretty white boy, Kevin Cheaterson who couldn't take competition from under-nourished, aspiring Black cricketers in South Africa, resulting in him moving to England. It is said that a patriotic South African bitch-doctor cast a spell on Cheaterson, causing him to drop more catches than he has held in Test cricket. Seen here is Cheaterson glaring at a footy ball, tossed at him by Coach Duncan Fletcher, wondering what the coach wants him to do with it. Catch, you fuckwit, CATCH IT.

Observer B) If you keep glaring at Caprice's boobies, your catching tally will remain at ZERO-ZILCH-NADA, Cave-in Cheaterson.

Big Baby Flintoff Sleeps in ICC PJs :-O

Well, what do we have here!
Graeme Smith's "big baby", Manbrew Glintoff, sleeps in his bebe-blue ICC pyjamas, holding a cricket bat to ward off witches, ghosts and Aussie predators. How cute :-)
As my Indian fraand would say, "muah Glintu".

Rock a bye Glintoff,
On the Knee of Darren Gough,

When the Wind Blows,
An Aussie wicket will fall...

Future Indian Captain, Fowl Aphid with Ousted Indian Captain, Soreass Gaandguly

Soreass G: Yo Aphid, lemme show you my injured tennis elbow.
Fowl Aphid: Mate, does it look like I give a flying fuck? I'm the captain now. Piss off, knucklehead.

OMG - Its That Space-Age Cricket Bat AGAIN!

Seen here is Aussie captain, Tricky Daunting, or as my little brother used to call him (back when he, my brother, not Daunting, was little), Pinky Pointing, sending a secret message to the Australian Cricket Operations Center, requesting for a replacement space age cricket bat-tlegun. Now, all is fair in love and war, right? So what the fuck were those dirty Poms cribbing about?

Gandguly Threatens Her-Fan Fat-Anne

Shiiiiit. Seems like Soreass Gaandguly is really pissed off with Pathan here. Our stump microphone picked this up for you:
SG: Yo, you fucking Mullah. You wanna be dropped like Mohammed Kaif, your terrorshit bro?
IP: That's uncalled for, Gaandguly Daddoo (as in Praying Mantis, not Grandpaw).
SG: Well Fat-Anne, if you don't stop stealing the limelight from me, I'm gonna dob on you. And Uncle Mugmoan Dolmio's gonna give you the boot, OKAY?
IP: *sobs*
Don't cry Fat-Anne. You're India's only hope.

Soreass Gaandguly Experiences the Dreaded "Wanker's Wrist".

Taking a cue from The Prodigy single, "Funky Shit", the Indian team was heard chanting,
"OH MY GOD IT'S THE WANKER'S WRIST!!".

Growl Rabid is seen soothing Gaandguly, whilst Coach Chappal is blasting him over not using his own wrist enough to wank himself, hence causing it to weaken considerably. Bloody Nagma.

Eco-friendly Recycler, Brenda Say-Dag

Observer A) I had a vision this morning. A vision of Morarji Desai. And I asked him, "Morarji, why did you banish Coca Cola from India". To which he replied, "Because I wanted to inculcate the spirit of recycling your own body waste and drinking a carbonated version of it, to avoid our dependence on American MNCs, which would help reverse the trade balance in our favor". Fair enough, Pisserji. No wonder you never won the Nobel Prize for Economics.

Anyway, so up above, we have this player (I mean, advertisement actor) from the Indian cricket team, who has banished energy drinks (but not empty energy drink bottles, since he believes in recycling First World plastic) from his diet, to become the Prime Minister of the Indian cricket team. Yes, it is your beloved dehati, over-rated pinch-hitter, Mr. Virender Sehwag, who is telling Coach Chappall, "firangi saaley, botal bhar ke aata hoon".

Observer B) Crappy Indian and World XI batsman, Virender Sehwag tries some Victoria Bitter in a Gatorade bottle, hoping to escape being discplined (for drinking), and to revive his perenially sagging form. Veeru was overheard saying "Australia kya bakwaas desh hai yaar - ek bhi daaru ka theka nahin hai yahan". Bottleshop, Veeru, bottleshop.

Does Dodger Madeira Have Too Much Money?

A hiatus from cricket...
Observer A) Supposedly charismatic ATP world #1 male tennis player, Dodger Madeira has gone to the extent of getting boob implants to be ahead of the pack in terms of popularity. Also visible through that pretty shirt are Dodger's multiple nipples. Freak of nature.

Observer B) Roger Federer complains of sagging, aching boobies after being defeated by the other booby wonder, Anna Kournikova. (Wow, she won a match?)

If you're wondering, Observer A and B are both me - maybe I should change the tagging to "Observation" - but then the blog wouldn't sound professional and collaborative enough. Teamwork is of the essence in world sport - and who'd know it better than me?!

Donkey Rides Ntini

Observer A) After making an ass out of the whole world (especially the South African judiciary), in his little-publicised ostrich-rape case, South African bowler Makhaya Ntini is seen with his long-lost brother, Donk.E Ntini. Mr. Donk. E doesn't seem too pleased with the fact that he's being photographed with a convicted rapist. Neither would you be. Would you?

I think I need to cover other sports, because cricket is getting on my nerves. We need some girls around this part of the webbed world. :-( Yes, lets make fun of the Lesbian PGA.

Observer B) Serial rapist, Papaya Ntini is captured indulging in ritual bestiality and sodomy. Houston, we have a problem.

Saurav Gandguly - Viagra Tiagra - err, Tiger, (Royal Bengal)

Observer A) Saurav Gandguly punches the living daylights out of his pint-sized twinkie. On a related note, am I glad I'm not Saurav's penis or what!

At a later interview, Gandguly had this to say to us:
SG: Before this game, Nagma asked me to step down as her lover, because I had not been performing in bed for a while. To get back at me, Coach Greg Chappall poisoned my Patiala peg with Viagra he stole from a Ugandan woman in remote Siberia. But, I had the last word, as my hard-on proved to the the wide world of sport (eat your heart out, Richie Bhenchod). I even have physio Gloster's report on my ability to have erections. Uncle MugMoan Dolmio (who leads a secret life as a bottle of pasta sauce when he's not pretending to run the world of cricket) will attest to this, since I serviced him myself this moaning - uh morning.

Doesn't Indian cricket just make you feel so warm and fuzzy?

Observer B) This picture of Stirrup Jhaantgilly doing the "Tribal Dance" (see lyrics below) affirms media reports of tribalism in the Indian camp.
"Feel the force, this is your chance
To get control and do the tribal dance
People started dancing a long time ago
The bass was fast, but then again it was slow
Soul, house, hip-hop and blues
It doesn't really matter which music you choose
Start up a dance this is your chance
To come with me and do the tribal dance!"

Michael Vaughan Gets Shot At With Donkey-Piss Canons by Crazed and Disillusioned Indo-Aussie Fans

Observer A) After ManBrew GlintOff's shocking revelation that psychopathic Indian fans tried killing him with plastic (get a LIFE GlintOff - the only pellets you get in India are made out of COWDUNG) pellets whilst he was patrolling one of the boundaries (why would you ever do that? No Indian batsman hits a ball beyond the inner circle, mate), here's what Google found for us - Cycle Con (or whatever his surname rhymes with) is getting shot at with donkey-piss canons by crazed Australian born Indian fans, who want revenge for the twin Indian and Australian defeats the Pommie poofs subjected their teams to.
Observer B) Unable to control his excitement, spastic English captain, Michael Vaughan manages to hurt himself with the Ashes trophy. Ouch.

You're Such A Shane In The Ass

Shane Warne grills some of the excess flab from his stomach and buttocks, and pours authentic Aussie beer over those chunks of pure human fat to say goodbye to his former meaty self. I love that Haitian touch, and the focus on healthy eating. Go Warney!

SharkFin TenderCurd, Bat Yourself Out of THIS Soup!

Observer A) My local Chinese restaurateur, in an effort to please an irate and impatient customer like me, brought me a free serving of SharkFin TenderCurd soup. Sans the damaged elbow, of course.
Observer B) SuckChin Candlenerd IS participating in the Souper Series!

Hashish Nehra Sticks it Out For The Trainer

Now, I know I've overdone the gay jokes, but that's as far as my creativity goes. In the photograph above, Hashish Nehra, famous Indian cricketer and druggieboy, with mysterious "aches in the buttock" is seen ummm "training" under the able guidance of some firangi dude.

The Vicious Side Of Copyright Law. Ouch.

Muralitharan threatens Murali Karthik with a copyright case and a broken head- there can only be one spinner called Murali in world cricket.
MM: Abhey, Kookaburra ball khopdi par maaroon kya chappantikli?

Cricket and Gay Rights

Victories strengthen relationships between players. Here are my favorite English bowlers, Ashley Giles and Simon Jones.
SJ : "You're the bestest husband in the world, Ashley".
AG : "I love you too Simon - uh Simone".
SJ : "I'm not Mrs. Warne, Ashley!"
AG : "No darling, you're prettier."
SJ : "And you're a better spinner than Shane, sweety".
*Sigh*. Love is blind.

Fierce Gandguly Bitch: Herbie Dancing Proves She Still Has the Doosra in her Repertoire

OMG! Its Herbie Dancing's dreaded DOOSRA. Muralitharan, saaley kallu, rasta naap.

Saurav Gandguly, Very Vussy Southie Laxman, and Herbie Dancing

Look mommie, its Gandguly and his merry band of overachieving, fitter than the fittest, cricketing legend wannabes.

Mohammed Azharuddin Gets Back To The Basics

Azhar returns to the back alleys of Cyberabad, and terrorizes young kids with his own take on batting effectively - for bookies.

Excerpt from a related interview:
CTT: Why were you guiding the ball on to your stumps?
A Jharoo Deen: I want to make sure that when I return to the team, I can get out without looking too suspicious.
CTT: And why would you want to get out?
A Jharoo Deen: Are you dumb or what? The Indian team doesn't win any tournaments - the only way for us is to excel at what we do, to maintain our form. And that's about LOSING MATCHES. I need to make sure I can feed Sangeeta imported caviar tomorrow, okay? Don't try to teach me how to run my finances.