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Things I learned this weekend.

1- Guinness is fantastic. 2- Seven hours of football on the television when you are watching it in the pub is a recipe for disaster. 3- Doner kebabs do taste marginally better on the way down than they do on the way up. 4- The effect of drink on your pal when he is chatting to an old boiler and disappears up the road with her has to be seen to be believed. 5- Remember when putting on bets that games to end in draws it is an idea to put a bet on the Irish as well as England, Scotland and Wales.


I should at this point give an in depth analysis of Saturdays games. But bearing in mind I had to wait until the Sunday papers dropped through the letterbox to be able to recollect the Wales result I am sadly unable to do so.

I was fascinated to read Beckham saying he received death threats during the game. Oddly enough the guy next to me in the pub did remark that if he missed that penalty he would "f***ing kill the skirt wearing poof" Harsh but nonetheless fair.

The Scots as always gave my draw bet a run for its money. I was helped greatly by watching it in the company of a Scotch bloke. 

Even at 3-1 up he was entirely confident that the Scotchers could easily snatch a draw from an apparently easy win. It was only when the fourth official held up the " minutes added on time" board did he relax a little.

The Welsh on the other hand allowed me to relax into my alcohol fuelled dreamstate by showing, from the very off that they were going to take an utter bleaching. To be fair, by that time I was watching the game not only with the benefit of Dolby sound but Doublevision by Guinness Inc. So I may have imagined that the Welsh were that bad.

Just to sign off can I have irrefutable evidence of the Non-existence of God.

 
 

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Can someone explain how when you are hungover, I mean seriously hungover, where does the incredible desire to make sweet lurve to your laydee come from?

I had a head that had the cast of Stomp playing in it. I was unable to keep down a glass of water, and the walk to the toilet took on the difficulty of crossing the Andes with both legs in a plaster cast. 

I just reckon that if there is a God there is no way a merciful God would combine those symptoms with a vicious dose of the horn.

With that gentlemen I will bid you au revoir and I will keep a close eye on the forum to see if anyone locates a bet that will help, in some way, to offset the cost of Saturdays shambles

Bon Chance

Jim Burke

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