Wednesday, December 27, 2006

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...

Steve Harmison doing the classic Candy Floss routine. Please note, this is NOT, I repeat, NOT a cheerleader move.

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.

Sachin Tendulkar asks Greg Chappell why he's being handcuffed and shipped back to India

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.

(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.

Monday, December 25, 2006

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.

Coach Fletcher and Captain Flintoff's Mutual Respect

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.

Monday, December 11, 2006

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

Shoaib doing it with Darryn Lifson

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.

Sunday, December 03, 2006

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.

Sachin's Hot Dog and Roll Stand, Sponsored by Pepsico

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

Is This Ball Bigger Than My Erect Nipples?

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.

Shane Warne Fantasizes About Fondling That Unnamed Blonde's Boobs By Fondling His Own Moobs

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.