Who Needs Comedies When We Have Cricket?

Hey kids, turn off your toons.Hey adults, turn off your sitcoms, skits, and whathaveyous.
Cricket is 360 degree entertainment now.

On Thursday, Missus Cow Tse Tung, who's not really a cow, but can be one when she's in a not-so-good mood took me to Youtube and showed me the real reason (and it definitely was bronchitis) why Brett Lee missed the first ODI game of the Commonwealth Bank (DIE CBA DIE) series against that pitiful excuse for a cricket team, England. Yessir, the bitter truth was exposed to me, right before our season-opening one-dayer. Twat Lee was away, in quest of Liz Kemp, Mark Deux, in tandem with matchmaker, and screechy BollyWoof bitch, Ass-uh Boo-Sleigh (post-Christmas carol time). It was possibly the worst romantic number I have ever heard in my life, and I think even Medusa would turn down Adonis were he to serenade her with a song like this.



Yo Brett, if you sing shitty songs like this, I'm not too shocked you end up with bronchitis. Even pests and bacteria and bugs find tracks like that highly annoying. First, you have INXS, who come up with a classy Indo-Aussie vid...and then Twat Lee And Asha Bhosle wreck it all.

Then, on Friday, I came back from work, hoping to see England put up a decent fight against the Aussies, but what do I get to see? Reports of Mcgrath breaking Pietersen's ribs. The stupid fuck was giving McGrath the charge AGAIN, and this time, he got what he's deserved for over a month now. If you thought that was enough, no sir. You had to watch England's innings. Flintoff, first over, gives wides I can't even keep a count of. The keeper, Paul Nixon - no relation to my idol and fellow slimeball, Richard Nixon - freaking dives AFTER the ball has passed him. No worries matey. You can still redeem yourself yet.

What do I see next? A magic fumble. The keeper is looking at say 5 ft height, when the ball strikes him a bit above his pads. Ouch.

OKAY! Still no worries...what could go worse?

Next on, as I await that great redemption, what does Nixon go and do? He dives in front of first slip, trying to take the ball, but instead ensures Australia get a 4 off yet another Flintoff wide.

Seems like Panesar didn't want to be left out of the fun. He's my favorite cricketer these days, and that's mainly coz he's such a simpleton. I love his no-frills, no ego, competitive attitude. What I can't get is his fielding. First up, he nearly trips Sajid Mahmood as they head back to their positions after saving a boundary, and then, instead of going for a catch, like a true Indian, he waits for the ball to bounce, lest he injure his dainty hands. You're an international cricketer - try and convert those half-chances. Catching the ball won't hurt that much. ARGH! I take back my ARGH, actually - it reminded me of people I played cricket with as a kid, and how me, being Jonty Rhodes incarnate, or thereabouts, going, "the ball's not gonna eat ya, pussy. Get your paws to EAT ze BALL". No double entendre, please.

Nuff' said. I turned the TV off after a hearty, healthy laugh, and went back to listen to my favorite new song...Asha Bhosle featuring Brett Lee in "You Are The One For Me". Disgusting.

I dare you to watch it right here, right now, and disagree with my assessment...and don't stone me for putting this up - curries are actually buying enough copies of the single to make it a chartbuster back in my former motherland.

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.?

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."

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...

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.