Phew! Hello lovelies, it’s been a busy day. In all my years of watching, I’ve never seen a day where so much hype was followed by so little. So, I went digging like Alan Titchmarsh in Charlie Dimmock’s backyard, and here’s what I found.
I’ll start where we all love to be; AU. So many things to say here, that it seems pointless saying them because you’ll have forgotten them by the time I’ve finished. Let’s start with how bloody irritating the AU campaigns have been so far. The amount of anti-feeling towards one candidate’s aggression staggered me to the point where I thought about coming out of my hide to deck the shouty wanker. I soon realised, however, that taking on a man of his stature was probably an unwise move.
He is not the only one; plenty of the candidates are so aggressive they make Mike Tyson look like a field of daisies in Belgium. Tip lads and ladies; you’re supposed to make people like you, not think you’re a twat.
Which brings me nicely onto the… curious promotional short from Supersam. In which he calls himself a twat. And paints himself as shit at sport. And calls a fat guy fat. As our good friend and colleague Gordon would say, “it might be a spade, but for fuck’s sake in politics, don’t call it a spade. It’s a hyper eponomic earth movement solution.” At least it was short; take note, marathon man.
Before we move away from AU, it seems awfully traditional to mention those three dreaded letters: IMG. ”I want to make sure IMG rugby is sorted.” ”I want to bring IMG rugby back.” ”I will make sure there’s IMG contact rugby again.” You fucking idiots. To be fair, at least those that mentioned it know what it is…
And onto the wider picture, via a series of bullets because I’m sure, by now, you just want the blunder and not the anal-ysis I’m a little rusty with.
Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. From a distance. I’m the one with the grubby trousers and the over active eyes.