I’m rapt to be the ‘Official All Black Grand Slam Tour Blogger in association with Warehouse Stationary’. Never in my wildest did I think my sporadic, barely literate farking around on the net would earn a six figure, one month gig. It’s a dream, etc etc.
However. This contract. We’ve got some show stoppers. Rats and mice, like the ‘turning up drunk’ and ‘punch Stu Wilson hard in the face’ clauses are missing. I’m surprised, but it doesn’t matter. I’d like to nut through the biggies now though, if we can.
First off, we’re not getting underway in the mornings ’til after 9.30. When I worked in London it was like 9.30. Later, if there’s tube problems. They’re always breaking down eh, you can’t control when you show up. And it’s not your fault.
Also, I’ll need Adidas socks, pants, shorts, shoes ( I like the old school ones, but I’ll take running shoes and sandals, too), caps, boxers, briefs, tees, sweatshirts, fleeces, coats, scarves, bags, beanies, wrist and headbands, and pens. ALL that shit’s necessary. You want good blogging, don’t you? I’ll Trade Me it after, though, the stuff I don’t keep ’til it’s priceless. It all needs to be signed by everyone, too.
This ‘minimum daily word count’ is coming straight out. Blogging’s not like Rugby. You can’t measure it. I might do a three word post when we play England. And that’ll be blogging gold. I might do three words for the whole TOUR, and that would be enough. ‘Minimum word count’. You guys might have ruined the whole thing already.
Let’s talk PR. We’ll need some night club shenanigans, fighting in Wales, spewing in Dublin, All Black Booze Shocker, Our Papparazzi Shame, Whoops Misses Mind My Jock Strap, that kind of thing. Pommy tabs lap that shit up. Great publicity. The handbag really helped Tana, everyone knows who he is now. Maybe we could do something to Clive Woodward, or his house, that’d go over great back home.
We’re close on that contract now. Good meeting guys. Just so you know, when we get there I’ll chuck a sickie for a couple of days, catch up with some old mates. Just pick me up from The Snakebite & Firken in Willesden Green. Bring a car big enough for nine people? Ta.
SRPA: Leaving your best players out for a New Zealand tour used to be just for the likes of England or Wales. After a 101-14 loss, Manu Samoa at last took their place at the big boys’ table. With a forward pack as competitive as Ian Smith versus a Milo and an early night, and a backline with more gaping holes than a Stu Wilson bender recollection, Manu Samoa showed they’ve finally joined the professional era.
With several of the first choice XV unable to tour due to earning shit-loads in Europe commitments, the Samoans fielded a 3rd XV tonight in a thrashing worse than a paralytic arts student taking on Ross Murant.
“To come here and lose by 87 points shows the Samoans are ready.” said NZRFU CEO Steve Tew. “I’d rate it alongside ’07’s 61-10 toweling of France. Maybe even the 55-3 Wales debacle in ’03. We’ll definitely work with them to schedule more hidings in the future.”
Jubilant Manu Samoa Coach Niko Palamo said “Those boys did themselves proud representing Samoa tonight. Whoever they were.” The loss impressed the English press with The Times’ Stephen Jones purring about the Samoans’ indomitable spirit and the sheer magnitude of glorious, glorious defeat. He also demanded the Samoan’s immediate inclusion in the Six Nations at the expense of Scotland.
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Subject: Re: Just got this web-cam and I can’t help stripping
Got your email. I don’t know how you got my address (did the Reunion boys send it?).
Now I don’t have trouble meeting women. I’ve had my fair share. All Black tours. Shield challenges. Liquor discounters. Rug clearance events. You name it.
These women are definitely single, right? For definite. Not married. Not separated. Not taking time out. Not just got into Levin for a Hen’s weekend. You can guarantee this in writing?
I’ve just read your email again. Fuck it, count me in.
From: “Future ” <firstname.lastname@example.org>
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To: “Future ” <email@example.com>
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You guys are good. After Trentham, you could say I’m looking to invest. I might be interested.
Let’s get a few things straight, right from the start. We don’t want any misunderstandings. I’ve been burned before.
First off, it’s only fair to warn you I drive a hard bargain. I’m not looking for a pissing contest. Well, maybe after a couple of scotches. Hahha hahah ahahaaaa.
Second, don’t judge a book by its cover. Only the very wealthy can afford to dress this way. That? That’s just a bit of egg. See? It’s gone.
Third. No lawyers. Fuck ’em with their ‘breaches’ and their ‘gross incompetence’ and ‘exceeded breath alcohol limits’. I don’t like clever dicks. It’s handshakes or I walk.
It’s up to you to get the ball in the line-out now. Make sure the boardroom cabinet’s got the good stuff.
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You must be more pissed than me right now!
Seriously, let me know what you want.
1700 Guests arrive at Hotel / Greeted in foyer / Welcome nibbles, champagne, beer, wine served
1702 Was that Stu Wilson pan handling outside?
1723 Fuck this, is there any scotch?
1724 Doug Howlett cut off from further alcohol
1755 Guests ushered to ballroom by nervous staff. That floor has only just been resurfaced, do you realise?
1800 Pre speech ‘energisers’ with Darren Shand
1804 First bread roll thrown
1805 Speech: “Reminiscing – bonded brothers bleeding on the battlefield” with Anton Oliver
1807 First fork thrown
2030 Speech: “I was wrong, very wrong, where I went wrong, Oh how I loathe the very ground I walk on everyday” – self flagellation and spiritual cleansing session with top referee Wayne Barnes
2200 Jordan Luck takes the stage
2218 Aaron Mauger’s wife injured while loitering in Jordan Luck’s path to the lavatory
2245 Is that stores? Get me another case of Johnny Walker, NOW! What? Get down to LiquorLand in a cab, then! For the love of god..
2305 You’re me best mate. You fucker.
0012 Searching for a cab, racked with sobs
SRNZPA: IRB top brass moved moved swiftly to stamp down on the early RWC backline flair and skill, fast-tracking new laws that ban flair altogether. “Rugby Union is scrums, dropgoals, stern reprimands from the ref and dirty songs on the bus ride home” said IRB chairman Dr Syd Millar. “This backline jiggery-pokery belongs in the 70’s. It’s as unacceptable in this day and age as wearing sideboards down to your jaw, or being Welsh.”
Extra emergency law 6.09, paragraph 3, which comes into effect immediately, reads: ‘Ball emerging from scrum, line out or ruck must be A. kicked out or B. proceed in an orderly manner from fly half to inside centre, outside centre, then possibly a winger, in that order. The full back must not get involved under any circumstance.’
“Referees will be on the lookout for side steps, wipers kicks, or forwards carrying the ball further than 5 metres” said RWC head referee Paddy O’Brain. “For example, Jerry Collins’ chip ahead against Italy would have earned him ten in the bin, not five points.”
William O’Shanter of the Morning Empire welcomed the IRB’s bold move. “You didn’t see England 2003 fart-arseing about with cut out passes, double arounds or dummy runners, did you? The Twickenham faithful simply won’t stand for bloody colonials running around our chaps. They must enter the fray and let the claret flow. Or something.”
New Zealand Rugby analyst Stu Wilson was quick to wade into the the debate, saying “Well fark. Ireland. The Irish. Big drinkers. Big, big drinkers. Don’t tell me about Dublin pubs. I know, mate. Shiiiiiiiiit. ’78 grand slam tour. Say no more. What was the question again?”
SRNZPA: A recent trough in New Zealand offices’ productivity levels is being attributed to the All Blacks’ recent form and their chances in the upcoming Rugby World Cup according to a recent survey. Pollster Fred Britten said “Our survey shows the average New Zealander in an office environment thinks about Rugby every 6 seconds. That’s second only to food. Work comes waaaaaay down the list right after ‘I wonder what happened to that funny looking guy in high school. You know, that guy.'”.
“I just can’t be arsed. Doing any actual work holds about as much appeal as driving to Bluff with Stu Wilson” said Hamilton accounts receivable clerk John ‘Wiggo’ Wigg. “Seriously, how can they expect me to process historic invoices when there’s no settled pairing in the centres? That’s grounds for a PG right there.”
‘Talking about the weekend’s game’ ‘Worrying’ and ‘Fucking around on the Internet’ all polled higher than ‘Work’ in office workers’ daily activities. In extreme cases, workers are taking annual leave for personal reconditioning programmes, consisting of ‘breaking in’ new Plasma TVs and burying fears deep, deep down underneath oceans of cheap draught beer.