Well that settles that. The AFL has settled the argument over whether the Mad Max trilogy can be seen as a series of period pieces. It can.
An on-field dispute over the awarding of a free kick during an Aussie Rules match turned into a massive brawl involving hundreds of people. What’s special about that? That’s every day, right? Police showed up and were scared shartless when they found the brawl involved spears and axes. Who stabbed who in the what now? How the hell do fans roll to games? Aren’t there spear or ax checks at the gates? There were an estimated 500 people in the area when the cops rolled up. Unsurprisingly, no one was arrested but the investigation continues. That’s some good police work, Lou.
The Fiver brings us the excellent news that Chelsea and England captain John Terry will be gracing the cover of this week’s Angler’s Mail. He discusses his love of fishing and laments that he won’t have much time to work on it before the World Cup next year. We haven’t read the article but we’re pretty sure he doesn’t discuss his dad’s love for angling in new disco customers. That’s coke for all you non-party people.
News of the World dropped a bomb on Sunday morning with a cover story about how a NOTW operative was able to buy coke from Terry’s dad, Ted at an Essex pub. Ted “muscled” his way into selling three grams of marching powder to the NOTW while telling the fake buyer that he shouldn’t mention the familial connection to his son, John. Ted made a little less than $60 for the deal even though he’s a kept man thanks to his boy’s riches. The whole transaction was caught on video. Sven-Goran Eriksson feels his pain.
Terry’s dad is a drug dealer and his mom’s a shoplifter. You can take the boy out of the East End but you can’t take the parents out of it. It was going to be interesting to see how this revelation would affect Terry’s play on Sunday against Manchester United. A figurative kick to the balls the night before and a literal blow to them during the match didn’t seem to affect him at all. Credit due considering the circumstances.
Wait a minute. The video of the douche brushing his teeth behind the dugout is starting to make sense. Maybe he caught up with Ted before the match and wanted to make sure the product really got up in there and numbed him up right. He could actually be onto a new delivery system. Why go finger when you can go toothbrush? Brilliant!
Brady Quinn, swollen balls, staph infections, Braylon Edwards, Eric Mangina. It’s easy to make a list of everything that’s wrong with the Browns. You want to kill some time? Make a list of the things the Browns do right. While you do that, we’ll add the cinematic shit show below to the list of Browns failures.
G4 came across this … I don’t even know what the hell this is. Masters of the Gridiron is a movie made by the 1985 Browns and Tiny Tim. It makes less sense than Billy Ocean’s Loverboy video.
Oh but wait. There’s more!
Get your head around that. I’m sure we’ll find a Part 3 where John Elway and the Broncos steal the ring from Mike Babb and Ernest Byner. Don’t let our sorry attempts at sarcasm fool you. Anything starring Mike Pagel is aight by us.
Argentina is on the verge of not making the 2010 World Cup finals in South Africa after being molested by Brazil and Paraguay in the South American qualifiers. Maradona is responding to this national crisis by taking off to Italy in order to lose five kilos. The Deuce respects doctor-patient privilege but Dr. Nick should probably explain how losing five kilos will improve Argentina’s chances of making the World Cup. He won’t gain in strategy what he loses in weight. “Hi everybody! It’s your window to strategery gain!”
Bolivia or Colombia seem like his kind of stress-relieving countries more than Italy. Then again he didn’t have a problem getting the marching powder in Naples when he lived there. Have fun watching the finals on the Pampas, Argentina. It’s not all bad. Carlos Tevez can get back in the studio next summer and bang out more hits like this.
Mr. Slinky is disturbing yet I can’t take my eyes off of him. We were trying to figure out Mr. Slinky’s true identity. My money’s on Tarence Kinsey. He might as well make himself useful since he’s not doing anything on the court. I secretly hope it’s Brad Daugherty.