Sky News has been intermittently irritating me this morning with constant repetitions of footage from outer space showing some 'Russkies' proudly locking their spacecraft onto that great waste of space ('Very witty, Wilde!') and eye-wateringly expensive space lab that circles our planet for no particular reason that I have been able to fathom. They bring with them what they obviously believe to be a most valuable icon of our times - an Olympic torch! Apparently, they intend to go outside their spaceship and cavort around with it. At that point my most malicious and vindictive thoughts will be lasered directly at them through space because I hope, nay, I pray - they drop the bloody thing! Oh come on, where's your sense of humour? Can you imagine that 'priceless'(!) relic ever so slowly but inexorably cartwheeling away from the outstretched fingers of the Russian astronaut as he begins to make the sort of excuses that English slip-fielders make when they drop a dolly! Oh, my giddy aunt, I would pay good money to see that.
The other great sporting question of the day, or to be accurate, of next year, is whether or not we can rely on the residents of the barrios in Brazil to, er, 'kick off' on one when footie's World Cup starts next year. Apparently, they have been playing some 'practice matches' before the main event by rioting and shooting sundry policemen as a means of expressing their displeasure that ga-zillions are being spent on this ridiculous circus mounted to the greater glory (and wealth) of Herr Sepp Blatter, President of FIFA. I must say that our very own, home grown 'youfs and youfettes' let me down badly during the London Olympics when I fully expected at least three full riots to put the kybosh on the whole ridiculous, puffed-up nonsense that it has become.
So, meus amigos in Brazil, I am looking to you to keep a grumpy old man happy in England by staging some world class 'bovver'. In particular, and here I anticipate, I know, but if our English footie team is playing please keep your eyes open for any groups of fans obviously drunk (irrespective of the time of day) and with unhealthily white skins covered in tattoos and sporting bellies the like of which you will never have seen in your Brazilian slums. If you see them . . . well, what can I say? . . . do feel free, that's all!
