It’s been an interesting 24 hours in the life of THE BIG BRAND. I’m settling into life down here rather well, as you can tell from the picture, and Dylan says that I fit right in, and would scare the bejebus out of any opposition if I preformed my war dance dressed like this with my tongue out. Nevertheless, First of all, I get interviewed by many UK outlets, including the Mail.
They asked me a few questions, no doubt hoping for a glimpse into the real GUN SHOW, but I think I mostly fenced them off and didn’t make myself into too much of a fool. I did say that I’d like to DOMINATE in other sports that the whole of England watches, like golf, which in hindsight isn’t a sport, but other than that I did quite well.
I’m always happy to reveal secrets of the domestic life at Casa del HASQUE, and it was nice to be able to talk about my cooking. I’m a big fan of Jamie Oliver, and I love his whole 30 minute meal thing, as it gives me more time in the gym, but I’m not one to hang around and I DOMINATE the kitchen to such an extent that what it takes a mere mortal 30 minutes to do, I can spank out in 20.
I particularly liked the question about which actor could possibly play THE GUN SHOW. I really struggled with this, because actors are just (like footballers) pathetic girly men who play act for a living, and none of them have the required musculature to represent THE BIG FUCKING BRAND properly. In the end, I was going to say Dolph Lundgren because I’m all converted to Sweden after watching a few of their films. Not that Seventh Seal shit (playing fucking chess with death for fuck’s sake), but some of the other ones on my hard drive which mostly consists of blonde lesbians with big boobs wrestling in baby oil. The last one I saw, actually, may well represent the zenith of cinema as an art form, but I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for Shaving Ryan’s Privates. Nevertheless, the BIG BRAND represents England, so there’s no other person than the man that plays iconic Scot-Swiss Spy James Bond for the job, Daniel Craig. What an action man, but he needs to do some time in the gym if he wants to get some proper guns for the job.
On the squad selection, it was no surprise to see that the grand Monobrow himself picked me to DOMINATE at number 8. Sadly, the Scots usual player is injured as I was looking forward to DOMINATING him utterly given that he not only wears a skirt for formal events, but also has a girlie name. Seriously, he needs a nickname or something, as Kelly is just not going to tell the opposition that he’s coming to DOMINATE. Maybe he needs to be called Claymore or something. I’ll have a think about it, and use some of my WORLD CLASS BANTER TM to come up with something appropriate.
The only strange thing is that Jonno has picked Easter on the bench. Woody, usually a very quiet person, was absolutely livid. He didn’t say much, just got up and walked out of the meeting. Funnily enough, Easter didn’t say much either, but that’s not a shock seeing as he wasn’t there. I wouldn’t put it past Woody to arrange an unfortunate accident for the butterball, but he’ll have to find him first. I was going to try to cheer Woody up with some WORLD CLASS BANTERTM, but I’d used it all up lightening Dave Aldred’s mood. All I said to him was “Cheer up mate, at least you’ll make history as the first rugby coach to be banned for fiddling with your balls” (I hadn’t even got to my really funny material yet about how the ban will give him enough time to work out what the fuck is wrong with Jonny’s kicking) when he told me to exit promptly and perform an anatomically impossible act on myself.
Well really, how rude!
Still, it’ll be a good game on the weekend, and I’m standing at half mast even thinking about it. Now should I watch Porn with the Wind or White Girls Can’t Hump?