another Monday another Trump meeting with a disgrace figure world leader. We’ve done Kim, yesterday it was Poot’n. Next week maybe Assad? Erdogan? Maybe Macron. But ‘its good to talk’. So we’re told. Though it depends indeed what is said. Trump’s one-on-one with Poot’n went, according to Donald, ‘very well. Very well indeed’. Because? We – Read More-
So what am I supposed to do now? There’s no more tennis, the World Cup is over (in case you missed that) and the new football season doesn’t start for almost 4 weeks!! The European Championships are 2 years away and the next World Cup not for 4… and a half, because they have to – Read More-
I’m opposed to movie sequels. Politically. Ok, there are exceptions, otherwise life would be dull and I thrive on hypocrisy. The ONLY acceptable sequels are Kill Bill 2, because it really wasn’t a sequel, Godfather 2, because it was such a magnificent movie and in a way all 4 parts were just a serialised version – Read More-
Ok, so now the football’s suddenly gone all non-English and non-interesting, the Wimbledon that I had horribly, cruelly, with such fickle callousness, disregarded, has once again come back into my life with a vengeance. With a rush. With just 5 hours of Nadal (who I love dearly) and Djokovich (who I don’t really) playing the – Read More-
Trump’s here. But not for long. He’s off to see Pooot’n in a day or two so is here just long enough to upset Theresa May, probably grab the Queen’s ass and tell a few nob jokes to some hoi-poloi. Oh, and do some ‘deals’. He loves a deal. But only if its a ‘good – Read More-
Its over. The dream. Its not coming home. They are instead. After they play Belgium in the most unmotivating match that can ever be played; the ‘losers final’. Or ‘3rd/4th place playoff’ to give its silly and overly descriptive formal title. Especially as no-one ever gives a shit who came either 3rd or 4th, even – Read More-
France are in the World Cup final. The country everyone hates, along with all the others, has made it. Beat Belgium’s ‘golden generation’ in quite a thrilling but not very exciting match. Which left all that ‘gold’ somewhat tarnished. Again. And tonight its our turn. Against them Croats. Our destiny. And every time I hear – Read More-
Ok, forget yoga and tai chi guaranteeing that you live forever with the body of a Greek God and the brain of Einstein. It don’t work. Not today, apparently. No matter how many ‘warrior’ poses you perform, how long you spend in ‘downward dog’, you’re gonna be a fat bastard but without the wherewithal to – Read More-
I suppose the question is: how much sport can you watch? Coupled with: and what are the priorities? Because I normally watch Wimbledon religiously. But this year my god has deserted me. Or perhaps been replaced by a bigger god, the World Cup, the MOAG. Mother Of All Gods. An interesting phrase that the more – Read More-
Its comin’ home, its comin’, football’s comin’ home… (rinse and repeat. And repeat and repeat and repeat until your phone simply has no further capacity for alternative takes on ‘its coming home’ and won’t free up the space to take 17 more photos of Lila!!) The team done good. Our boys was mangificent. At the – Read More-