Very well alone…
I’m finding it hard to get motivated this week. Obviously, we gave the French the biggest kicking since Agincourt three Saturdays back, but since then, I’m feeling less than chipper. Bloody Pasta munchers turned up to play, and that flaming PE Teacher made the mistake of taking me off, thereby negating our DOMINATION.
It also occurs to me that this is the last time I can share some WORLD CLASS BANTER™ before the end of the 6 Nations. So, I’d best stiffen my upper lip, wipe away that single manly tear and regale you with some insights into the mind of THE HASK.
I’m frankly a bit sick of this nonsense.
Firstly, there was that garbage leaving me, the MIGHTY HASK, on the bench for Big Courtney, only to see him miss a tackle I’d have made in my sleep, thereby exposing that Northern wretch to the ridicule of the masses. Which reminds me, someone keeps stealing things in camp, and I’ve got my suspicions as to who is to blame. When I catch him, well, let’s put it this way, it will absolutely redefine DOMINATION. There won’t be enough of him left to send to the police, unless they’ll take him in a sponge bag.
The usual suspect.
Then there’s this flapping in the press about a Grand Slam decider, and you can bet that this is going to have an effect on the forthcoming team selection. I mean, if you look at it logically, as that fat Welsh disgrace to back row forwards is STILL DOMINATING his hospital bed (I helpfully pointed out that if he spent less time in Gregg’s and more time DOMINATING the weight room, then this wouldn’t have happened) then I have to be due to start again. I’m either going to be placed at 6 to show some mighty defence, or else I’ll be marshalling the troops from the back of the scrum. Although I suspect the PE Teacher will put Woody there.
Looking at the last match, I think we didn’t take them seriously. It’s understandable because, well, it’s only fucking Italy. A more gutless and craven nation (including the French) doesn’t exist than this lot.
Given that it was at Twickenham, it wasn’t unreasonable to expect us to lay the absolute smack down on them: to DOMINATE their pusillanimous team.
Form an orderly queue ladies
Still, despite their best efforts, and our uselessness (honestly, Jug Ears, can you try to not run into your own players? Over them is fine, but into them is not) they proved to be little more than a speed bump in the way of our ongoing juggernaut of DOMINATION. And you know what I do to speed bumps? Fucking flatten them. And now, as I stand here in my skimpiest pair of briefs, I turn my attention to the match that matters; the one fixture that DOMINATES all others: England v Wales with the fucking championship on the line.
I said some nice things in the press about Tom Croft’s return. Didn’t mean a damned word of it, mind, and I’m stunned that I was taken off so that the lanky streak of piss (disgrace to forwards) could get in Ginsters’ way and DOMINATE the touchline. I find this frankly inexplicable, as cometh the hour, cometh THE GUN SHOW- yet I still see that there are calls for him to start ahead of me. Absurd.
Not actually a twiglet. I took this as Crofty came out of the showers.
Returning to the matter at hand, as mentioned, it’s that miserable nation of sheep shagging choristers who love nothing more than to piss on an English grand slam (some group of tone-deaf imbeciles called the Steroesomethingorother even wrote a song about it) this week. I’m, therefore, beginning my psyche-up process today with a strong dose of self-flagellation. It’s difficult to resist, to be honest, as I can’t pass a mirror without being transfixed by the image of perfect masculinity in front of me. I’ve even been practising a few poses, and am going to come out there ready, prepped, oiled and slightly tumescent.
So, the press is giving us shit, and for some inexplicable reason we’re not favourites. Well, that’s clearly garbage. We are ENGLAND! So what if it’s the first time in 10 years? We were just graciously letting the Celts have a run at the prize for a while. I feel now is the time for us to reclaim our trophy and to reassert the natural order of things. The rightful DESTINY of every good and proper ENGLISHMAN cannot, will not and must FUCKING not be denied!
The typical Welshman
So, when we step out on the Millennium Stadium pitch to be confronted by an entire nation of genetic unfortunates singing some drivel about Carbs from above, I’m not going to be overwhelmed. I will bet, though, that they have the roof closed. For 2 reasons: Firstly, they naturally, and rightly, assume that God is embarrassed by them, and so need to hide; and secondly because their pasty and twisted visages can’t stand direct light.
Still, as I keep saying to the press, even if we make a balls up of it, this is only another step along the PATH TO DOMINATION. We are preaching the WAY OF THE GUN SHOW, and I’m feeling that now is the time. I will be starting. I FUCKING WILL. I’m a big beautiful weapon of TOTAL FUCKING DESTRUCTION, and you don’t keep your big GUNS at the back when you’re preparing for war. This will be war, and you clearly want your best fucking warriors out there. Which means me, natch.
My pump is fucking primed, and I’m ready to rock out with my cock out and DOMINATE the misbegotten Welsh bastards.
I love the smell of DOMINATION in the evening, smells like….
GLORY!
Oh yes.
Ciao,
James.
Don’t want to offend any one with a caption trying to be funny.
Just bask in the reflected glory
Bask Mortals.
BASK!
The Gun Show: Inside the mind of James Haskell. 
This is fucking awful.
DCC – put that backpack down, grab a coffee and join in
It’s the calm before the storm. Everything that needs saying regarding the rugby has been said, (until new articles appear in the press tomorrow) and people have too much fear to come up with entertaining diversions
Might have to wait for the proper nightshift to arrive
@DCC
Or were you referring to your do this evening?
Soo just tipped up from the gym and start checking out my favorite “rugby” blog and what do I find. A picture of the Hask DOMINATING a very small set of underwear and reference to Ben Youngs naked… shudder
Still reference to Veronica Mars has cheered me up no end. Glad I’m not the only person to appreciate that show.
And can we stop all the ATL overdogging of England please mods. I’ve got the fear right and proper now. (Even though England losing both game and champ come the weekend is not the end of the world by any means)
Was a bit tetchy here earlier, I note.
Clutz, there will be no end to the overdogging of England ATL until we succeed with a Wales win by 7+.
I’m quite glad I have hardly any emotional attachment to the 6N sides. France a vague preference, based on sepia-tinted nostalgia. I just don’t get worked up with this hope and fear lark.
Shouldn’t you be packing your bags, dermott?
In other news (for those who care)
Claw, our ATL overdogging to the pump up the FEAR worked a treat. They were at each others’ throats.
Claw, I was having withdrawals from the lack of WLF to prod, so decided to prod Sag and the Cat instead. It helped pass the morning.
She has already packed the bag, Claw.
Yes, boa, you were an unwitting conspirator in my and sag’s plot.
Dermott continuing his John le Carré role nicely, I see.
I thought Veronica Mars was a young adult book, or series of?
Can we replace the pic of Hask in his budgie-smugglers with more pictures of Christian please? Not in his budgie-smugglers, I hasten to add.
Oh, and if Wolfie is lurking, I am not the great Mr Leaders himself, but my admiration for his work is great, so I do him honour through my avatar. And indeed I do have a copy of his book – great reading – although you need your wits about you!
i was just acting as Snoop’s wingman. He needed backup and I fancied an argument.
Mr Leaders, ffs. Mr Meades, you heretical autocorrect!
I assume Claws was tapping into his i phone at his black tie event, until the mrs jabbed him in the ribs. Right now he’s swilling malbec and looking around, deciding in what order he’d terminate with extreme prejudice.
I think Mr Leaders suits him quite well, Mr Meades. We need to distinguish you both, after all.
The Cat is at a black tie event?!
S’not right.
@avs
Ah iphones… you can take the exec out of the music industry but not the music industry out of the exec eh? DCC does seem to hold a great deal of hate for the people he works with doesn’t he.
We’re both very distinguished, I like to think Claw.
Mr Leaders sounds like a Dutch politician.
First name Piet?
I’ve never seen Magnetic North, Mr Meades. I would quite like to.
I’d just like to say, Veronica Mars? Haven’t a clue what you’re all talking about.
Makes a slight change from Rugby? Haven’t a clue what you’re all talking about.
You definitely should Claw. It’s a tough call, but I think it may be his best and most evocative piece.
I also had a minor Jiffy while watching it, when he did a piece to camera in front of the hotel I stayed in when I was in Helsinki. I regard that moment as pretty much the ultimate vindication of my life to date.
I like the tone of the evening conversation around here. The pace is a little less frenetic, the conversation a little more refined. None of the ghastly posturing and vulgar name calling that goes on in the daytime in the lead up to England playing Wales. And that’s just among the English supporters.
While that reeks of swilling cheap plonk out of a bottle concealed in a paper bag, I like to imagine present company sitting in a comfy leather armchair by the fire, several classics within easy reach, savoring a fine cognac, or perhaps port and a cigar.
Piet Leaders, for sure.
Like that other great Dutch Piet, van der Valk.
Still awful. Booze is shit too.
Chinless wank just told me that England will win by 20.
Worse than my depiction of HASK.
I watched Magnetic North recently, having googled Jonathan Meades, curiosity aroused from these very pages. I agree. Excellent.
Also wathced Joe Building. Will do Jerry next.
While that reeks of swilling cheap plonk out of a bottle concealed in a paper bag, I like to imagine present company sitting in a comfy leather armchair by the fire, several classics within easy reach, savoring a fine cognac, or perhaps port and a cigar.
The dinghy is the evening venue.
Mr Meades, I must confess that I really have not seen enough of Mr Leaders. I would be very interested in learning more about him and his views; I quite like his style. He seems to take a very adult approach to educating his viewers. Some years ago I got quite enamoured with Simon Schama’s style too – his book, Landscape and Memory, is an excellent read, elucidating the effects of land and cultural resonance. Fascinating stuff. Mr Leaders strikes me as someone who does likewise, albeit through the prism of architectural endeavour.
Comissaris Piet. Real name Simon, boringly enough.
I enjoy both port and cigars on occasion, AVS. And why not, to quote Barry Norman.
I’ve just had a Franziskaner, and now i’m going for a roll up… does that count?
England by 20 eh? I thiknk you’ve just met EBT.
Deebee – belatedly Earlsfield near Wimbledon has enough Saffers living in it to be dubbed Earlsfontain. Apparently this is common knowledge in Port Elizabeth.
SmAshed. Room spinning. Rargh.etc.
Claw, he assumes a certain level of intelligence among his audience – quite a high level – but I like that. And he has a wonderful way with language, and a droll sense of humour.
Avs, more disciples to the cult of Meades always welcome. I think we’re making more inroads than the cult of Quade, in our own quiet way.
Said it before, but the dinghy reminds me greatly, and pleasingly, of Cheers. Everyone knows your name etc.
Claw, we are definitely going to talk van der Valk on Saturday. Have you read any of Freeling’s ‘Castang’ novels?
Evidently RoS has not been in the dinghy this evening.
Your mum is in my dinghy
You are Expro and I claim my five members of the Dutch women’s hockey team.
@Mr Meades; none, I’m afraid. Wasn’t Freeling a chef as well as novelist?
ROS – If you have work tomorrow, I salute your level of drunkeness. I would not be able to function the next day.
@meades,
Good choice, best looking womens team at the 2021 Olympics in my estimation, although I found the general standard of physical attractiveness of the various athletes slightly higher in the Paralympic Games in general.
Your mum is in my dinghy
and on that note, I take my leave…..
Sigh. There’s always some drunken oaf baying at the windows. Carruthers? Release the hounds.
that’s an unfortunate, Saville-esque typo, there….
Indeed he was. Wrote a book about his experiences in the kitchen. Called, er, The Kitchen.
Blimey. On that, I am off to my leaba. Have some reading to do and another busy day at the asylum tomorrow. Good night, one and all.
So, you’ll be back here then? Good night, Mr Claw.
I’m not chek levels of drunkenness primarily because I still hate you all..
@avs,
With regards to conversation during the day versus evening I’m always impressed/terrified by the amount of posting that happens during the day. Either people are fantastic multitaskers, or do no work during the day.
Seeing as so many of you shared your faces last week mine should come up soon.
Not The Kitchen, mind. The other thing. I presume The Kitchen to be an interesting read. Right. This time.
Good work RoS. The faux-intellectualism on show here was no good. I’ve had 7 Stella Cidres in your honour.
@Craigs good facial hair arrangement
My face it too ugly to be photographed, so you’ll all have to put up with the delectable Kristen Bell.
Killer, wtf man! Stella Cidre, and you a paid up northerner all! Sort it out.
Meades isn’t even on twitter, how can he compete with the Cult of Quade (close to 600000 followers on twitter).
I think about this also. Claws, for example, often seems to have several browsers open at once, commenting on different blogs, all the while keeping the wheels of industry and commerce turning, apparently, at least sufficiently well to collect a pay check.