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.

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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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!"