Well, as shitey years go, 2020 is right up there as probably the shitiest year ever. The Huns, including Steven Gerrard, are ending the year the way they started it, moaning like fuck. This time, it’s about Michael O’Halloran of St Johnstone. They’ve got some fucking nerve, especially given the way they all defended El Guffalo over a forearm smash, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the good old days of wrestling on World of Sport, performed by the likes of Jackie Pallo, Kendo Nagasaki and Mick McManus. Taking a cue from those days, maybe they should let old women into football grounds once they’ve had their vaccine. They can run onto the pitch and batter El Gufffalo with their handbags. Still, unless Neo-Gers slip up between now and the end of May, they’re on course to win their very first title. Mind you, I doubt even that would stop the bastards moaning!
“Take that, ya durty Hun fucker!”
The biggest moan from The Peeppul this year, however, was back in May, when Celtic were ‘handed’ their ninth title. If I remember rightly, the agnivores weren’t too happy about it either. This season, though, is a different matter entirely. The Daily Record is already working out what would happen if the current season had to be finished early due to the new strain of Covid. As you might expect, Neo-Gers would come out on top, so this time I’m willing to bet that Kris Boyd, Barry Ferguson, the agnivores and the assorted soup-takers would be all for it! There would be no talk of refusing the title either!
Speaking of soup-takers, Neil McCannasoup has been spitting lentils about Edouard’s penalty. According to him, it was ‘disrespectful’. So, if somebody’s a good player, they’re not allowed to show off? I’ve said before that I wish Edouard would take a more direct route with his penalties, instead of fannying about. My worry is that he’s going to miss some time; I couldn’t care less about the goalie’s hurt feelings. What does McCannasoup expect? Should players say to an opposition player, “Look, pal, Ah know Ah’m a much better player thin you, but Ah don’t waant tae be disrespectful, so, here, jist take the baw aff mae!” Mind you, maybe the Celtic players have already been doing that this season; it would explain a lot!
As to the game itself, it’s obvious that there is still work to do at Celtic Park and Lennon’s position is still pretty tenuous. The defence is a nightmare and there’s no way the game should have ended up in a penalty shoot-out. And we can’t even blame Cheatin’ Beaton, who, I thought, had a good game, apart from doing nothing about his hun-in-law, Steven Naismith. Mind you, the SFA thought the thug merited no action either. Wednesday night’s game proves that, while there’s been a bit of improvement, work still needs to be done. And, although the defence needs fixed, two goals is a poor showing up front. Hopefully, things continue to pick up after Christmas.
The Huns are fucking sick, claiming that Celtic’s trebles, especially this one, are ‘tainted’. It’s amazing how their old club cheated its way to umpteen trophies, but it’s Celtic’s trophies that are tainted! And their new club is cheating as well, spending money that it doesn’t have in a desperate attempt to win this season’s league title. And you’ve got to laugh at them saying that Celtic’s current Nine-in-a-Row only happened because ‘Raynjurz’ were having…ahem!…financial difficulties. Celtic were in nearly the same position back in the 1990s, almost going bankrupt. And yet, they’re happy enough to claim the titles they won during those years. Both they and the agnivores still bang on about Auld Dignity being a ‘legend’. Worse, they’ve been trying to claim titles they won during WWII, when the rest of Scotland were off fighting the Nazis. They’ve got no fucking shame!
Meanwhile, the right-wing papers, like the Sun and the Express, are having a go at Nicola Sturgeon after a picture of her ’emerged’ showing her not wearing a mask for a few moments at a funeral. (Actually, they say it’s a ‘wake’, which shows a lack of knowledge. You don’t go to a wake after a funeral, for fuck’s sake!) Surprisingly, A Tory spokesperson had this to say,
“Weaponising Covid solely to score cheap political points is low.”
Oh, wait. That wasn’t to do with the First Minister; it was talking about wee Red Card Ross running the line at Ibrox, making himself unavailable for an emergency meeting about the new strain of Covid. The spokesperson also said that Ross shouldn’t be expected to carry his mobile phone at all times. Why not? Poor cunts on zero hours contracts have to. And this prick thinks he’s going to be First Minister? Christ, the country would be in the bin in no time while Ross concentrates on helping Neo-Gers!
He’s standing for Holyrood next year and it doesn’t look as if he’s giving up being an MP. He’s determined to have more fucking jobs than Miss Rabbit! Like all Tories, he’s nothing but a money-grubbing cunt!
“Ah’m sure Ah seen some cunt throwin’ a pound coin doon here!”
On the home front, Der Fuhrer fell the other day and aggravated an old war wound, leaving me responsible for Der Fuhrerhund. Luckily, he’s cut down from three walks a day to two since he’s getting on a bit. By God, the amount of shite the cunt produces on his morning walk is phenomenal. One bag is hardly enough to hold it all; it usually takes two or three. Der Fuhrer’s knee seems to be getting better, so I can get back to sleeping!
“Thank fuck! Ye don’t go ma normal route an’ ye don’t hiv mae oot long enough!”
As I write this, we’re already into the early hours of Christmas Day and, with only a couple of hours left until those with children have to get up, it seems that Santa has disappeared off the radar. He was last seen heading for the Western Isles. Rumours that Hector has bits of him stored in the freezer are, as yet, unsubstantiated.
I hope everybody has a great Christmas, even if you’re a Hun. Hopefully, wee Billy isn’t too disappointed with his Castore ‘Ragners’ top with the thread already unravelling! We’re heading up to Der Jungfuhrer’s at lunchtime to listen to Der Fuhrer moaning at me for falling asleep, even though nobody else gives a fuck. Apparently, I’ll be ‘spoiling Christmas’. Happy days!
“Awright, troops? Ah love Christmas, but it’s important thit ye get right intae the spirit-a hings. So a Merry Christmas tae evrybdy, unless yer a Feenyin, a poof, a darkie, a Jew, a Muslim ur any kinna foreigner. No’ thit Santa wid go near any-y theym; wae aw know thit ay’s a white, English Proddissint!”