With all the furore surrounding that fancy-dress party at an Orange Hall, the thing that struck me was how the fuck you explain to your children why they’re wearing those Stars of David.
CHILD: How’ve wae goat tae weer these stars, da?
DAD: Cozzit goes wi’ ma costume. Hitler gassed aw the Jews.
CHILD: What? D’ye mean ay killed thum?
DAD: Aye. But who gives a fuck. They wur jist Jews.
CHILD: Dae the Jews no’ stye in Israel?
CHILD: So how come you wave that big Israel flag it Raynjurz games wi’ Sellick if ye hate thum?
OTHER CHILD: Da, ur these no’ the same stars the Gallant Pioneers’ve goat oan thur strips in that big poster in yer bedroom?
DAD: Look, jist shut it the pair-y yez. Pit the fuckin’ coastumes oan ur Ah’ll knoack fuck oot yez. Awright?
And, while they’re wearing costumes depicting Nazis, taking the piss out of the Holocaust, the Pope being hung and child abuse they’ve got the nerve to complain about the way they’re being painted in the media. Apparently, vandalism to Orange Halls is never reported in the press. And what is this vandalism of which they speak? Are their premises being petrol-bombed? Razed to the ground? Attacked by machete-wielding maniacs from Castlemilk? No. Somebody wrote ‘IRA’ on the wall. Well, fuck me with a clothes pole, that’s terrible, so it is.
They’re also telling anybody that will listen, including the DR Hotline, that Leigh Griffiths is responsible for all the throwing of coins and Buckie bottles because he tied a scarf to a goalpost at the end of the match. While condemning the launching of various missiles, they say that the crowd was provoked. Who the fuck was throwing these things, Doctor Who? How the hell can something that happened at the end of the match provoke supporters into violent action during the match? Surely it was Griffiths himself that was responding to provocation.
I always wonder how these people manage to get the objects they throw into the ground in the first place. Fair enough, you can’t take their money off them as they might need their bus fare home, but a half-bottle of Buckfast? And what about batteries; what possible excuse could you give for taking them into the ground? “It’s in case sumdy’s torch runs oot!” is hardly going to cut it. Then again, maybe they troop in with batteries shoved up their arses, like Duracell bunnies.
The real reason, of course, why these clowns get away with things is stewards not doing their jobs properly. Throughout the match at Windsor Park, the stewards just walked about doing absolutely nothing. They stood and watched as the crowd ran down the stairs to throw things and did the same when that idiot, dressed for a fishing trip, ran onto the pitch to get at Leigh Griffiths. Somebody on Twitter showed one of the security men taking part in Orange parades; no wonder he didn’t feel like intervening. Of course, if any of the Celtic supporters had dared sing the Soldier Song, he and his colleagues would have been in there, all guns blazing. Literally.
Meanwhile, in a ‘Huns-across-the-water’ gesture, Ibrox will be open on the day of Celtic’s second leg against Linfield for The NI Peeppul to be taken on a tour round the stadium (hard hats provided). The question is, will the fleggers want to take a detour to Govan instead of sitting getting pished in the watering holes of Brigton? After all, the more they walk about the sorer all those Buckie bottles and batteries sitting in their colons will be. The clincher is, though, that Neo-Gers want to charge them a tenner a head for the privilege! Now, a tour round a dangerous demolition site, with that metal screw-tap playing havoc with your prostate, or another three or four pints. I imagine most will plump for the latter since they’ve got that painful walk along London Road to face. God help any other poor cunt if one of them farts!
Away from football and to a subject that’ll be of interest to Hector. I see some morons are looking to introduce wild lynx into the countryside in Northumberland. This is the brainchild of a group called the Lynx UK Trust, whom I’ve never heard of and would have assumed was the holding company for a firm producing deodorants. Why the hell would anybody want to introduce dangerous animals into Britain? I mean, the climate changes, the landscape changes and some creatures die out; that’s the natural order of things. Introducing another predator that hasn’t shown face here for hundreds of years is just asking for trouble. New predators have taken their place and the food chain will be disrupted, leading to other species dying out; unless, of course, they acquire a new, easy food source. Farmers will have to sit up all night with fires blazing, beating off all manner of teeth- and claw-laden brutes.
I’ve heard before about folk wanting to re-introduce wolves. No doubt they’ll be queuing up to re-introduce bears and wild boars. They won’t be happy until you daren’t go near the countryside without carrying an elephant gun at all times. And why stop there? Advances in DNA technology means they can soon saddle us with woolly mammoths and sabre-toothed tigers as well. In fact, I hear Gregory Campbell is already looking for members for a Dinosaur UK Trust.
Speaking of deodorant, which I was, I see Andy Halliday was too embarrassed to raise his arms and bare his armpits after forgetting his Right-Guard double protection. This has endeared him once again to the Huns; not because he dares to stink like The Peeppul but because he’s refused to do a proper huddle! Sad bastards.
Finally, staying with sad bastards, did you see all that nonsense with folk getting worked up because a woman is going to play Doctor Who? There are plenty of things to get riled about in the real world without being overly concerned about a fictional character. Who cares? The Daily Record reported the story with its customary incisiveness:
“Jodie (Whittaker) will replace Peter Capaldi as the Doctor following the Christmas special episode expected to air in December.”
That’s helpful. I was wondering when Christmas was going to fall this year. It’s nearly as bad as that story about the lion’s brother that takes pride (sorry!) of place on James Doleman’s Twitter page!
“Awright, troops? Christ, Ah jist aboot shat masel’ when ma maw wiz readin’ oot Anderson’s pish tae mae. Gonny geez a fuckin’ warnin’ before ye start throwin’ words like ‘deodorant’ aboot? An’ what’s aw the fuss aboot a few folk dressin’ up iz Nazis ‘n ‘at? It aw happened a long time ago. It’s time some folk stoapped livin’ in the fuckin’ past! No Surrender!”