Smellmycheese's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘football

 …or is that methane? It’s hard to tell. Both are overpowering, overwhelming, and closely associated with the rectal arena. Nothing says ‘I love you’ like anal intrusion, after all.

Anyway, in case you’d somehow missed it, it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. And what better time than this, the weekend of love, to reflect on something that brings us all together - religion.

Jesus

Obviously it only brings together the people that happen to believe in the same God, otherwise it tends to cause a few problems. Little fall-outs throughout history, like wars and so on. But other than that, it’s most definitely a cause for good.

Of course, your God is the right one. Of course it is. How could it not be? There’s irrefutable proof for it, right? And the other ones are just stupid. I mean, not stupid, because that would be offensive. Just wrong. Although, not actually wrong, because that would be offensive too. But they must be wrong, else how can you be right? You’re not going to base your morals, values and way of life on something that’s ‘wrong’ are you? So they are definitely wrong. But not stupid. Just not as enlightened as you.

Another fantastic thing about religion is the way that you can pick and choose the bits that apply to you. People used to believe in the Garden of Eden and Noah’s Arc quite literally. But then science happened and we all realised that was slightly far-fetched. So it’s just an allegory now. The God stuff’s definitely still true though. What’s far-fetched about a ‘higher being’ that lives on some other dimension and sent down his son (who wasn’t really his son, he was sort of himself) to emerge from a virgin’s vagina, do some Derren Brown shit and teach us all about redemption? Nothing.

I like to think of religions as being like sport. There are rules in place, but you obviously don’t have to follow all of them. You just pick the ones that make the most sense to you. Football is still football even if you pick up the ball and run with it, isn’t it? You probably don’t even need a ball, or to run. You could just stand there and say you’re a footballer. What gives anyone else the right to judge you? If you say you are, you are. Just like Catholicism is still Catholicism if you don’t actually use contraception, hate gays or believe in the Holy Trinity. 

Hell, even if you’re not sure about the God bit, that’s okay too. As long as you get really offended if anyone questions your faith, then you’re off to heaven. If there is one.  And, when we say heaven, we’re not talking about people sitting on clouds with angels playing harps. That would obviously be ridiculous. No, we mean the sort of heaven that you can’t see and that isn’t really ‘there’ in a physical sense, but is definitely still there in a metaphysical sense.

I can’t wait.

It's 2010. Where are the flying cars?!

Happy New Year!

I haven’t blogged for some time because I’ve been having a blast in Oz. So, sorry about that, but don’t hate me because you ain’t me. Jealousy’s an ugly thing.

Anyway, what a year it’s been. Obama got elected, the recession officially ended, I bought a new coat and Jedward entered the collective consciousness like long lost twin brothers we wish our mother had aborted. 

In a few short hours we’ll all be having the time of our lives, counting down to the New Year and snogging some gorgeous stranger. Either that or we’ll be necking tequila in a desperate attempt to find someone remotely attractive enough to snog at midnight because we’re nearly 30 and single and if we have to make to do with a peck on the cheek from our best mate we might cut ourselves in a depressive post-party plea for help.

By ‘we’, I mean you, obviously.  

But don’t despair. If you’re too ugly/boring/smelly/short (delete as applicable) to get a snog this New Year, simply follow my fail-safe resolutions to make sure you’re a better person this time next year.

100% money-back guarantee. Send me your card details and I’ll do the rest.

Don’ts:

  • Stop using LOL, ROFL, LMAO, PMSL and so on. Just stop it. It’s not big and it’s not clever and unless used in a witty and ironic manner such as this, you sound like a twat.
  • Don’t be a racist. Racists are rubbish. “England used to be great.. yada, yada, blah blah”. You’re born where you’re born by pure chance, it doesn’t make you any better than anyone else. Get over it.
  • Stop watching football in pubs. It means there are certain days of the year where non-football fans, or ‘intelligent people’ as I like to call them, are unable to enter a public house for a refreshing beverage or two without the experience being completely ruined by some sweaty apes shouting and clapping at a box in the corner of the room showing flickering images. Idiots.
  • Stop updating your Facebook statuses with your views on football*. For example: “Bob thought so and so was fucking terrible, what was the ref thinking, they should never have bought him off Wolverhapmton.” Or something. You’re not a footballer, manager or ref, and you’re never going to be, so stop whingeing, no one wants to hear it. 
  • Do not wear trackie bottoms tucked into UGG boots beyond a 100 yard radius of your home. Yes, students, that means you. And you’re fooling no one with that ‘just got out of bed’  hair. We all know you spent an hour backcombing and hair-spraying it this morning. But hey, at least you all look exactly the same!

 *unless it’s to say how dull people’s obsession with it is. That’s fine.

 Do’s

  • Drink and do drugs more. The NHS won’t be able to take the strain of all us old people in 50 years time and there won’t be enough state pension to go round, so you may as well ruin yourself now and die young. It’s the only sensible conclusion.
  • Watch more reality TV. It’s good for the soul as it allows you to judge other people from the comfort of your own sofa. And you can eat crisps at the same time.
  • Blog more. Everyone wants to hear your views because you are a witty and entertaining person. By ‘you’, I mean me, obviously.

If you stick to these resolutions all year I guarantee you will be a better looking, more likeable and more sexually attractive person this time next year. 

No need to thank me, I know how grateful you must be.

See you in 2010 folks.

Imagine literally watching paint dry. Sitting there for, to pluck a figure out of the air, say 90 minutes, and just staring at it while someone shouted out regular updates about the progress of the paint and people occasionally clapped and cheered, at the paint.

You could have a beer or two to make it all a bit easier but, when it boils down to it, you’re still essentially just sat there watching paint dry.

How about if I said to you that this was extra special paint because it was super duper British paint and therefore you should really get into it. Pride for your country and all that.

I’d imagine you might reply with something along the lines of “the fact that it’s British paint makes no odds to me, I’m still watching paint dry. And quite frankly, this analogy’s gone on far too long. Get to the point sunshine.”

And here it is (the point, that is): to me, asking me to watch football or express any interest in it whatsoever, is the same as me asking you to sit and watch paint dry. And guess what? I couldn’t care less if it’s England playing. Just as paint drying is still paint drying, wherever the hell it happens to come from.

I’m not particularly patriotic at the best of times so the thought of loads of people shouting and clapping at a television screen, or even at real life men running around a pitch, just puts me off even more.

How exactly a group of fit fellas in shorts can inspire a sense of national pride in some fat knacker whose only form of exercise is lifting cans of Stella into his pie hole and scratching his balls, I do not know. You just happen to have been born in the same country. By chance. That’s all. It means nothing. If some other people that were born in the same country as you happen to be good at kicking an old pig’s bladder around, well what does that say about you? I’ll tell you shall I? Nothing.

I love sport, me.

I love sport, me.

That, my friends. Is why I do not give a tiny rat’s ass about football. And no, NOT EVEN IF IT’S ENGLAND.

I thank you, and good day.


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