Barmy Harmy Working On His Fitness

Man, I truly thought Steve Harmison had more to him than he's shown us on this tour. I mean, I've been his fitness trainer for months now. We've been lifting candy floss and flossing our teeth non-stop to prepare for this very Ashes series. And now, our collective dream is in shambles. Damn those Aussies. Let me show you a picture of my beloved Harmy diligently undergoing my acclaimed fitness program for cricketers...



He's NOT busting a cheerleader move. For God's sake, you ignoramuses and hippopotamuses. A song comes to mind..."Candy Perfume Girl" by the evergreen crackhoe, Madonna.



So, on the day that we hear of Shane Warne's definite and Glenn McGrath's tentative retirement plans, what does Steve Harmibum go and do? He announces he's "retiring" from ODIs. Correct me if I'm mistaken, but he's just 28, right? All my years of hard work and toil have gone down the drain. I was hoping Harmy would show some grit and determination, and master the art of ODI bowling. But well...

England, like India is a team that rewards mediocrity, because excellence is unknown, or requires way too much movement away from one's comfort zones. Look at Pakistan. Afridi "retires" from Tests, and he gets dropped from the ODI squad. Gotta earn your stripes son, gotta earn your stripes.

Why We Had To Send Back Irfan Pathan Instead of Sachin Tendulkar

Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys...(that's my attempt at sounding like a Virgin Blue stewardess), Irfan Pathan is being deported from South Africa for scoring a 100 and a 40 n.o. in a tour-turning game before the current Test Series. He doesn't have any godfathers sitting in Parliament House, New Delhi, so you see, there's no political outcry over his exclusion from the team.

I'll answer that one, THANK YOU!
'Coz you bat like Danny Morrison with a wrist injury.

Initially, Cow Tse Tung Sexurity CystStems (not related to Cow Tse Tung Sound System) was hired to handcuff and drag the terribly out of form Suckshit Tenderrer (no relation to cricket-lovin' Roger Federer) back to the dark alleys of Mumbai, where BDSM, sodomy and gilli-danda(1) rate amongst people's favorite and favored pastimes. But the Bored of Crickets (and other pesky pests) Control of India aka BCCI forewarned us of the political fallout (think SoreAss Googly), and the potential quagmire that would've/could've followed, and our preemptive, forward-thinking move saved many a city in India from imminent riots. So we just had to settle for the Muslim kid, Irfan PotPan being sent back home to clean the pots and the pans. We should be looking into opening tailender, VrrrrrEnder Sehwag's case once we clear our backlog, fear not. His lack of form has been very annoying. Axe the fatass already.

-------------------------------------

I am VERY angry at the stupid pansy faggot poof homo gay battyboy who was searching for "Andrew Symonds+GAY" and arrived at my wonderful blog, courtesy of Gaygle, the gay Google. Look, you sneaky little turd, Symonds might've fucked England in the rear, but he ain't gay. But you can wank to his pictures. He gives you his express permission through his Agent La Sexual Affaires` , i.e. myself. Which reminds me, Symonds scored his first Test century today. 154 n.o. at close of play. I'm SO proud of him. His average now stands at 26+, courtesy of the undefeated knock. You deserved it matey. Cool runnings.

Footnotes:
(1) Gilli Danda could also mean Adam Gilchrist's Prostitution Business. Gilly, or Gilli= Adam Gilchrist, superman wicketkeeper in Australian slang. Dhanda=Business (usually of the dodgy variety) in Hindi.

Great Cricketing Minds Stink Alike

Man, after the 2005 Ashes, everybody would go on and on about human beer-cask, Man-brew Glintoff's cricketing genius, and coach Dunkin' Donuts Stretcher's coaching wizardry. I was getting sick of it, until this Ashes series, when the glint off Glintoff's supposed cricketing brilliance wore off. And what made me even happier was Coach Dunkin's team requiring stretchers, after their comprehensive defeats. Very satisfying. Revenge, sweet, revenge.



Anyway, so there have been recent news reports about Coach Dunkin' Donuts and Captain Glint-off not seeing eye to eye on matters as diverse as selection...and ummm...selection. Cases in example are wicketkeeper, Chris Steed, Monty Dancer (not stripper), and whoever else they brought over from England (and they did bring a fair number of players over). This picture clearly proves that the Coach and the Captain have the same thing on their minds - so why all this crap about not thinking alike etc.?

Grunt Moans Bitter In Victoria

I've been really busy playing massive DJ mixes to myself and my goldfish. In the time I've been away, I find that other cricket blogs are now using the same image distortion techniques as myself to try and match my notoriety. Look mates, cricket blogs are meant to be dignified, with this one being the sole exception to the case. Cow Tse Tung very angry. But that's another story for another day.

Today, we see England's extraordinarily ordinary wicket-keeper, Grunt Moans, in his new role as beer-keeper for the Barmy Army. His luck has finally run out on him, as has Coach Dunkin' Stretcher. So, as he watches the English squad prepare for the 4th Ashes Test, Geraint, bitter in Victoria, holds a Victoria Bitter (possibly the worst tasting beer on Earth, excuse my patriotism). I'd distort and twist and make even more fun of Geraint Jones' name, but I don't really know how to pronounce it. Ignorance is bliss and a whole let less work w.r.t. compiling posts like this.

Pakistan Cricket's Never Ending Romance With Sex, Drugs, and Sushi Rolls

Mate, as me, and Elton John (and you'll see in a moment why Elton is so critical to this post) always say, back when we were young warthogs, did Imran Khan have the time of his life or what! Not only did he ummm, screw the Jew (Jewmima Goldsmith, distant relative of Shylock the money-lender), but he also managed to play good, hard cricket under the influence. We can't go into any details of what this "influence" refers to, but hey, you're as smart as I am, so go figure.

Then there was Wasim FuckRum. The man with the shortest run-up for a pace bowler. I always thought he had a lovely wife, and a great marriage, until I heard this on the radio a few weeks back, on the Hamish and Andy show (92.9 FM in Perth, or podcast-able online):

Hamish and Andy: So what celebrity have you pashed AFTER they were famous?Random female caller: I pashed Wasim Akram, the Porkistani cricketer, about 2 years back.

And take my word for it, Wasim's wifey don't have no Aussie accent, mate.

Anyway, so after all these sex scandals involving Pakistani cricketers, I wasn't very surprised when I saw this picture on Cricinfo.com:



Yes, that's the disgraced drug-implicated Porkistani fast bowler, Shoaib Chuck-thar, with physio, Darryn Lifson, in what they're saying is a physiotherapy session. NO, they're not trying to pump out drugs from Shoaib. And they are definitely not indulging in sodomy. That kinda shit is looked down upon in Porkistan, despite the million and one cases of gay rape that occur there. No sir, we do not condone such behaviour. Which is why we had to "ban" Shoaib from cricket for 2 years. The problem wasn't drug related - the problem was that he was becoming too addicted to carnal indulgences with Caucasian men. Just like Imran, except for his sexuality. I mean, at least Imran picked feminine White men like that transvestite, Jemima Goldsmith.

What I'm kinda disappointed about is that Shoaib isn't the manly, controling stud I thought he was - instead, as we can see from his facial expressions, he quite enjoys being the bitch. Damn bottom.

Sachin Tendulkar's Changing Role In The Indian Cricket Team

So, on a recent astral projection trip to India, the Australian cricket Grape Chappal, big fan of wine, and also currant Indian cricket coach was telling me about how much Sachin's role in the Indian cricket team has changed.



While the media and myself comfortably assumed this he was talking about Sachin's "role" in the team, little did we realize that he meant Sachin's been making rolls for the team. Since the guy doesn't score runs, and refuses to bowl, they figured they'd still retain him in the team as their official hot dog vendor [the guy owns a restaurant in Mumbai, yo], which in turn means that their Pepsi sponsorship wasn't lost because of non-performance on the field. Masters of marketing, I tell ya. The BCCI should be a management consultancy, specializing in turnarounds.

And Then There Was Steve Harmison and Some Disgraceful Ball Tamponing

I've been too busy watching Australia fucking whip England, so, apologies for this delayed Ashes coverage...

As if this whole Shane Warne moob incident wasn't scandalous enough, we then captured Steve Harmison trying that whole Ball Tamponing business by using his lactating breasts to squirt some of his erm, FLUIDS on to the cricket ball. This game is no longer a gentleman's game...all these boobs and lactation. I feel lactose intolerant. Darn that. Never thought I'd say this - go away Pamela Anderson wannabes. :-(

Shane Warne Fondling His Moobs...

Man, what a disgrace of a cricket match. England rendered Shane in the ass Warne ineffective, or so they'd like to believe, and their teddy-bear of a bowler, Matthew Hughard is the most successful of the bowlers.



But here, at Cow Tse Tung Centre for Sports Anal-i-Cys(t), we have found out the real reason as to why Shane couldn't perform to his optimum. The team had a blanket ban on sex, and Warne, as we very well know, can't function without, erm, functioning. His ball release depends on his erm, release. Damn this chick...behind every failing man is a, erm, WENCH (for want of a politer word). Damn Warney, stop playing with ze moobs.

Apple Muralitharan (no relation to Apple Martin)

Did you know that Mutthiah Muralitharan is so dedicated to the art of spin bowling that even his fruit-eating - apples deserve a particular mention here - involves cutters, doosras, flipperzzz (my pet dolphin, who's a celebrity in his own right), and chucking. Sample this...



Here's a Murali anecdote for all you little chucker-wannabes...
Back when I was a famous cricket player, my mother invited Murali over for dinner. So Murali takes a seat, and next thing I know, my mother's upset about his lousy table manners, so much that she starts singing,
"Son, Son, strong and able
Put your elbows off the table".
The guy doesn't get the hint, and starts humming some random Sri Lankan folk song. Like I want to listen to Ceylonese folk songs. Give us a break mate!
And what does Muralitharan go and do next when I ask him to shut the funk up? He complains about racist behaviour from his hosts, i.e. my family. The Sri Lankan board then hires and bribes a poor biomechanics professor from University of Western Australia's renowned sport science department who sends us a 1000 page quasi-thesis on why Murali's arms were on the table, and how he wasn't breaking any established norms, citing a birth defect as the reason for it all.

DARRELL HAIR LONG LIVE.
For telling it like it is.

Porky Pigs

Damn man, these Porkistani cricketers are worse than that dude John Kerry, who was dishing out free Heinz Big Red tomato sauce (he imported it from Australia, dumbasses) to people in 2004 A.D., in order to get their support for his bid for presidentship of the United States. The dude even splurted some Big Red on his military uniform and then asked me to doctor his Vietnam pictures so people would think the dogs of war, whatever that means, bit him and made him rabid enough to desert the world's greatest barmy army, the US (b)Army. HUA? HUA! (I'm still suffering from a Black Hawk Down Hangover.)

First, InstamomUl Hugs throws a tantrum because the dumbpire, Barrel of (pubic) Hair decides Instamom was responsible for his band of fast bowlers tamponing the ball. You might ask what Ball Tamponing is...well kids, its this practice of rubbing your balls and then the cricket ball with uh, used tampons from the biohazard wastebins. Disgusting, isn't it? I'm with Dumbpire Hair on this one - cricket doesn't need menstrual blood on Kookaburras. This world is sexualized enough. Leave cricket alone. Ban the likes of Mandira Baby from even watching cricket, uh, YO!

Anyway, seen here are Pakistani cricket coach, Bob Woolmer, the Walrus, and the now-you-see-me-now-you-don't Younis Khan. Last year it was Greg Chappal vs Soreass Gaandguly. This year, we have Scarier Khan Vs. YouPiss Khan.



And if you think I'm a faux-psychologist, bite me - coz, I've said this ages back - Younis Khan is unfit to captain an international cricket team. Q.E.D., Cow Tse Tung M.D. is greater than Singhmund Fried.

All You People Don't Believe, In Di Ah We Got De Bob Sled Team

Yeh kids, 'tis common knowledge Cow Tse Tung is a closeted, marijuana smoking Rastafarian. Why rasta? 'Coz cannabis ain't sinful dis way mon.

Now since I waste all my mooney on marijuana, I obviously can't watch live telecasts of cricket happening around the world, 365 days a year. But, I do manage to sneak into dem government libraries and check out the scores on sites like BBSingh and CricMofo. CricMofo, what a motherfuckin' cool cricket site man.



Anyway, so after India's recent DLF Cup debacle in Malaysia, I hear the selecta (pump up de volume, Mr DJ) has decided that the Indian cricket team be retrained, reskilled, and sent off to the Winter Olympics as the first Indian bob sled team. Now, now, I know what you're thinking. Jamaica's been there, done that. Cool Runnings, fantastic Hollywood flick. They ain't copying no one, bro. Its the rasta fad. Look at me, nice former curry, currently wannabe-Jamaican. Similarly, our trendy cricketers wanna be cool too, literally, not figuratively speaking. And I, as a top notch bobsled coach, have always believed cricketers will make great bobsledgers. I mean, sledging is in our blood. We're used to giving the best downhill (ah, what irony!) performances known in sporting history, and we're known for our groupism (4 to a sled sounds great) and we love playing in new countries, where nobody's even heard of cricket. At least as bobsledders, they'll know we're real sportspersons.

All I can say is, sing that great Jamaican Indian soccer chant from World Cup 98, "Rise Up, In Di AHHHHHHHHHH". Or maybe not. I think I'm sledding into a state of sleep, so let me play my favorite lullaby, Bentley Rhythm Ace's Ride Your Sleigh - and NO, you may NOT FUNKIN' ride MOI SLAIYE`. I'm an athlete, this is expensive gear we're talkin' 'bout. NO< absolutely NOT!

Tigger, the Nigger Woods To Release New Old Track!

Y'know kids, back in the mid 90s was a rock band fronted by a nigger, just like me. Yeh, back in tha day, I was called Mixmaster Mike, just like the dude on the Beastie Boys' albums. So one day, not long after I gave up rescratching scratched singles, I was watching MTV, looking for inspiration. What do I see? A nigger, just like me, playing heavy fucking metal. Well, it was heavy metal to my sugarpop-tuned ears bro. So yeh, these dudes called Hootie and the Blowfish were playing a track called Only Wanna Be With You, with some fantastic golf commentary in the background. And this track was like rock 'n' roll bhangra, because it used lyrics by my favorite bhangra artiste mon, the venerable Bob Dhillon!



That song, was not only my inspiration to become a headbanger, bro. It also set another famous nigger, like myself, on the path to fame. Yes, Tigger Woods it was, and now, he's repaying his debt to his Teddy Bear, POOH, who was always by his side when little Tigger wasn't as famous, and was constantly wetting his bed by singing that crazyass choon, nigga.

So hear dis, people in da house. "Only Wanna Pee With Pooh" by Hootie and the Blowfish ft Tiger - I mean, TIGGER Woods!!

What?! The Pakis Wanna Blow Daryl Harper?

Man, tell you what - this cricket series between England and Pakistan has been really bitter. But Daryl Harper, he's a man who believes in equality, and doesn't judge Pakis by their color, beliefs, fundamentalism, or sexual perversions. Or maybe he does, because he thinks the Mullah wants to perform fellatio on him. Do I blame him for this stereotyping?

The Fearful Sajid Mahmood! (Abdul Razzaq, duck for cover!)

Need I say more?

Inzamam Ul Daq

I do realize this is possibly one of the worst pieces of photo-editing in history, but that's what this blog is all about - promoting stupid, crappy posters that most people wouldn't even use as toilet paper, because they don't want ink on their asses.

Yes, dis shizzz izz wakkk, nigga! The new Inzamam-ul-Duck toy. Dayyum. What's next? Inzamam-ul-Faq, the overweight cricket sex doll with a big Kashmir willow bat?



Thank God Darrell Hair isn't Chinese, or we'd be having roast Daq for dinner tonight, eh?

Dr. Bhajji Lykes Dem Dykes

Pictured here is Indian cricketer and offspinner, Harbhajan Singh, using his superior Krypton-'lite' visionary faculties to test this stereotypical carpet-muncher for breast cancer.

Hey Ho Nuts, Meet Dunkin' Donuts

Copyright infringement. ??
No sir.



Right. So this is English cricket coach Duncan Fletcher. We've brought you many fake tales about him, and here's another one to add to your collection...

After the English cricket team's dismal performance in India, the coach not only received death threats from some Anglo Indian septuagenarians, but was also unceremoniously dismissed by the ECB. Left with no alternative, or job, his mortgage spiraling out of control, little Duncan was left with no choice but to take to the streets - playing street-ball. I mean, it was almost like destiny had come full circle - Dunkin Fetcher was finally who he was named to be - a top notch hoopster.

Duncan's A Special Chai-ld

Seen here are English bowler I Am FlunkItt and coach Jhankaar Stretcher, trying out a new magic potion - CHAI TEA - to revive the sagging spirits of England's One Day cricket team.

Now, I have more than one complaint here.
- First off, CHAI=TEA=CHAI (chai=tea in HINDI), so WHAT IN THE HOLY FUCK IS CHAI TEA? Its like saying, ummm "Hi, Hello", or, "Water Pani".
- Cricinfo has a new "caption this picture" contest. What fucking copycats. Okay, I get some really neat pics off these guys, but I don't steal their ideas. On another note, it might not be that bad - on a site like that, they can't afford to be as rude and outrageous as we can.
I forgot what the last one was, but I do have the Duncan's Special Chai story...
A long time ago, when I was a young warthog, I used to watch BoreDarshan, India's state-owned, state-sponsored, propaganda machine, and television channel, where this one really annoying ad jingle was that of...you guessed it...Duncan's Special Chai. I think they wanted to say "Duncan's A Special Chai-ld"...

Who Wants To Be An Austrillionaire?

Hey kids, when I first moved to Australia from India, I hated it. Over time, I've begun hating India, so much that when Australia plays India, I don the green and yellow paint, and boo the Indian cricketers till I'm kicked out of the ground for misbehaviour.



Anyway, my hard work has borne its fruit. India not only has an Aussie cricket coach in Greg Chappell, but Indian players are becoming more and more like us Aussies! The only problem is, they think jumping like a kangaroo will make them a true cricketaroo. Won't it?

Snuff Movies and Cricket - Not Another Shane Warne Sex Scandal!

I was once told, the only people who can afford snuff are the same ones who can buy their way out of jail. Not much of a quote, eh?

Seen here are Aussie leg-spinner, Shane Warne, with possibly the world's lousiest spin doctor, South African cricket captain, and massive wanker, Graeme Smith.



We know of Mr. Warne's propensity to get entangled in complex webs of sex and deceit, but little did we know what these guys were talking about when their press conferences frequently referenced "choking". Michael Hutchence/"autoerotic" asphyxiation revisited.

For Mridulaji.

What's With Khans and Shirts, Huh?

Seriously mate, what's this shit with Khans and shirts? First we have Shoe Rack, who likes wearing women's tops - then there's shirtless Salman, who has a very valid excuse in his lawyer gobbling all his money to settle the zillion cases and lawsuits against him - but what about Pakistani cricketer, Younis Khan?

I understand cricketers these days party hard. Like 3 odd years back, when India was in Australia, I saw Zaheer and gang banging our friend, the ABCD Draupadi. Maybe not banging, but I'm sure they got around to it. She was that kind of girl - yes, she'd even sleep with a useless, crappy satirist-wannabe like me.



Anyway, notice this guy's shirt. He's an international cricketer, at a pre-series trophy display ceremony or something. Dravid's in his team colors, but Younis seems all set for a night out in the nightclubs (seriously, I'm sure Porkistan has a few) of Karachi, or wherever this picture was taken.

So you see kids, Pakistan lost the ODI series even before it started.

Michael Yawn, English Cricket Captain

There is talk of English cricket captain, Michael Vaughan and his band of merry umm cricketers being better prepared than ever to conquer the final frontier - ennui. Coach Duncan Fletcher has come up with the perfect solution - spending your day on simulation games and porn sites.

LardLa (Bring Me The 'Beloved' Animal Fat)

Is South African cricket captain, Graeme Smith turning into a Granny Smith Apple (rotund, and green)? Former South African captain and Australian vassal, Kepler Wessels thinks so.

Listen to Shaun Pollock, Graeme, and stop drinking lard. Bring him some Gatorade, vassal Wessel(s).

Liz Kemp, I've Got The Hemp

Man, the good thing about Brett Lee is that he didn't marry his "partner", Liz Kemp, which means that fat, ugly, horny cows like me are free to fantasize about her. Now, I do wish they'd publish more pictures of her in the media, but that wouldn't let her remain as special as she is right now. Right boys?

Anyway, lets go back to my past, when I was a sprightly young calf, growing up in the Third World, strolling on roads, fighting for my space with stupid Maruti Suzuki matchboxes people said were cars. One day, my owner brought home a television - it was educational, because the only channel we received was BoreDarshan, on which my favorite show was Krishi Darshan. Suddenly, in the 90s, came Sitar TV, not sponsored, or endorsed by Pandit Ravi Skunker, or his Medusa-like doll of a daughter, Matyrushka. Yeah, so that's when I first saw the likes of Pamela Bandarson and Jenny Nathkhatti on BabeWatch and MTV (MoociliciousTransVestites) respectively, which led me to the most important decision of my young life - if I was ever going to lose my virginity, it would be to a blonde bombshell. And she had to be Caucasian, like my forefathers. No fake blondes like Amisha Phatel for me - I like the real thing.
Ru-Paul. I miss you.
Ceteris Paribus.



Yeah, yeah, I know this is not a very happy picture, and depicts a sick mind, but hey, I can't afford a shrink, or hospital treatment for that matter. So please don't tell Brett Lee I want to root his girlfriend (Liz Kemp, Lets Smoke Hemp). Ending up as a Whopper© at Burger Fink is my second worst nightmare, the worst being Matty GrayHen eating the Whopper me.

PS: Bollywood scriptwriters - pay attention! Demented Indian clerk, crazy about cricket, and cricketers' wives/girlfriends :-O Can you sense my excitement? We're talking a potential Bollywood blockbuster!

PPS/PS2: Has Shane Warne finally become Sane Warne? See this picture - what a lovely little girl(Brooke Warne), what a good daddy. Simone Warne, BOO.

Rasta Mon Howard, PM, sledges West Indies Cricket Captain Blunderball

What's this world coming to? Hatred here, hatred there, hatred hatred everywhere. Seen here is something just released from the national archives, formerly hidden from pub[l]ic view because of national security reasons.



Australian Prime Minister, John Howard seems to be giving Shivnarine Chanderpaul a taste of his own medicine. We had to edit out the expletive-laced line where Howard threatened to get Amanda Vanstone to drag Chanderpaul to Woomera, or even worse, get DIMIA to deport the poor fellow.

The Sheep Can Wait, Says Crazy Billy

Seems like Rianna Ponting, Australian cricket captain, Ricky Ponting's law graduate blonde-bombshell wife whipped up a 7 course meal for anti-Aussie "elite" umpire, New Zealander, Billy Bowden. But our friend Ricky seems to forget that only he's got a day off from the cricket - not Bowden!

Something's wrong with these Kiwis - when a hot chick [who cares if she's married] invites me to go grazing with her, I put a stop to my world, just for her. Just for her. Billi, you're a pussy [for our English readers, Billi=Pussycat in Hindi].

Happy Australia Day mateys.
This Australia Day, lets roast umpires instead of traditional meats, because honestly, they're becoming pains in the asses. Where's a serial killer when you need one?

Android Le Gruff

Yes people, we need a breather from cricket.

During the course of my medicationsmeditations [!@&^#$(*@# Freudian slips], I had a vision, a JPEG manifestation of which was done by some anonymous soul, may his tribe increase, a`la Abou Ben Adam.



If their child will grow up into anything like this, I think Steffi Graf and Andre Agassi are better off keeping it hidden, much like Michael Jackson does with his little angels.

Pansy Crony, Shaun (not of the dead) Bullock In Guerilla-style Abduction :-O

Background musique: "Take Me Away" by 4 Strings.
Ouch.

You gotta hand it to these guys - they make American spy satellites aka "eye in the sky" seem like retro machines with Stevie Wonder vision. Yes people, I'm talking about the underground cookery and spygames channel, Al Jeera [The Cumin]. They share the strangest images with PotPol [not related to Pol Pot of Cambodia], an up-and-coming rival to Interpol. "Rookie", yeah, that's what we sporty people call it, right?

Seen here is former South African cricket captain, and supposed all-rounder[huh, what, him?], Shaun Pollock being kidnapped by the ghost of disgraced match-fixer, and captain-par-excellence, Hansie Cronje's ghost. An unidentified South African player, said to be Hansie's long-lost cousin, Nicky Boje, is trying to save Shaun from Hansie's fate.

First, match-fixing, then racist abuse, then, the icons behaving badly [the only people we like behaving badly are hot chicks, OKAY], and now, guerilla style kidnappings! Yessir, cricket is the truest representation of demoncracy.

The blurred carrier number is the cause of sloppy photo-editing, and not some hidden agenda. I swear upon whoever you value most. Hence, we are unable to verify who funded the chopper hire. You can flip a coin and decide. ICC vs Matchfixers [criminal betting syndicates].

Hold on a sec.

They're one and the same.

Dig Your Own Hole [© Chemical Brothers]

Observer A) Former Indian cricket captain, Saurav Ganguly digs his own grave. What I wanted to ask is - isn't this what he's been upto for the past 4 months anyway? The public demands to know when he will finally be put to rest.

Also, notice his squeaky clean tracksuit - its a new sports fabric, specially developed by the scientists at Porkistan's nuclear facility, wherever that might be . THIS (clean tracksuit) is NOT, as is rumored, because Ganguly does next to nothing in the cricket field. Please give credit to Pakistani UNclear/Nuclean scientists where it is due.

Because they steal most of their technology anyway, they have all the time in the world to work on things like mud-resistant tracksuits, which also come in handy when you're invited to a conference with the now-underground Dr. Abdul Qadir Khan.

Observer B) Soreass Goonguly decides to dig up the cricket pitch after yet another miserable display of batting. But then again, Goonguly being Goonguly, we didn't expect any different. Temper, temper!

Just a word of advice, Soreass - there's no ghost in the machine.

Turncoat Team India (Cricket) Supporters

Okay, so India had an awful first two days in the first cricket Test against Pakistan, with the Porkies declaring at 679/7. Amongst the centurions were YouPiss Khan, MoHammered YouStuff, SuckShit AfroDi and CameraMan Akmal. Yes, even the bloody cameraman scored a century. So obviously, the Indian bowlers were bowling like ME!

But this coating of tricolours with green paint- this is uncalled for. How dare die-hard Indian fans turn against the very cricket team they were born to support, and paint their flags green. I'm green - with disgust, of the vomiting kind. What pisses me off even more is that they've used bloody high quality distemper produced by Asian Faints. And look at that boy in the extreme left - he's got even more green paint. What is this? Alien Nation?

And what's next I ask? Are you guys gonna convert to Islam like Mohammed Yousuf aka Yousuf Youhanna?? Huh? That boy with the hedgehog-head sure looks like a likely candidate.

Of Dawood, ISI, Crime, and Cricket , featuring CarThief Phatel and Soreass Goonguly

Pakistan is home to Dawood Ibrahim. As is customary for any and every major celebrity visiting the great pig farm, Porkistan, Dawood hosted a bacon and ham buffet for his infidel visitors, Parthiv Patel and Sourav Ganguly, only to prove he's not a religious zealot. I applaud Da_Wood - he's the coolest desi nigger around.



Cosa-Nostra-Damn-Us, the mafiosi soothsayer wrote this quatrain...

What the Dickens
The Plot Thickens
Car Thief and the Bong Goon
Will Lunch With Da Hood In The Noon.

Coach Greg Chappell To Morph Into A Sacred Football!

Crazed Bengali soccer fans have urged the Board of Control for Cricket In India to hire ISRO and udder scientists to assist in creating a soccer ball made from Graaaag Chapel, holy shit.



Yes, they want to skin him alive, and then create a true Communist foosball. Please Greg, come back to Australia. You don't want to be another Graham Staines, Padma Shri notwithstanding.

I really like people like this - they save me the 5 odd minutes I waste on image manipulation and adding silly taglines to sillier pictures.

Raj Singh Dungarpur To Run For US Presidency In 2008 as Democratic Candidate

It has come to Cow Tse Tung Sporting Vignettes Inc's notice that the Democratic party of the US will be outsourcing the presidential candidate's job to India in the 2008 elections, keeping in line with global cost-cutting measures, and finding cheaper alternatives for positions that don't make much of a difference to our world anyway. They have earmarked Mr. Raj Singh Dungarpur (it is NOT "DANGAR" {animal} much as I might insist it is) of the Board of Control for Cricket in India [BCCI] as a possible candidate, keeping in mind his exceptional administrative and political experience, and his ability to go retract his own statements with so much ease, that people often wonder if "The Dangar" has a conscience at all.

After Aishwarya's role as an extra in some nondescript Hollywood flick, here's a real reason for the global Indian diaspora to cheer for! Yes! Hip Hip Hoozah!

What Makes Anil Kumble Such A Great Catcher?

Over the past few years, one of life's greatest pleasures has been watching the markedly improved efforts of the Indian cricket team on the fielding front. Seen here is superstar legspinner, Anal Krumbly, trying to scare the ball away instead of letting the ball have the - uh - upper hand, y'know.