my life as a artist
all swell alls well
Saturday 4th April 2009 9:30 PM
Despite being offered a pensioner's meal at Wackers fish and chip restaurant last week I can't help feeling a certain youthful vigour creeping back into the old frame. Spring uncoils and there's a bit of bounce about. The willow-catkins that sway outside my window are especially pneumatic and they make me feel so gay, in an old-fashioned way, that I'm not going to apologise for the recent blog drought. Sorry.
On Wednesday night I went round to my Mums and watched England beat Ukraine 2-1, thanks to a winning goal from our inspirational and sometimes quite violent captain, John Terry. Although my Mum can't understand why a man who earns £150,000 a week insists on cutting his own hair with a knife and fork, she does recognise a crunching tackle when she sees one, and we were both in admiration of his poise and belligerence. When asked about up-coming fixtures and England's chances of qualification he said, 'We've got Khazakstan away and Andorra at home, which are two tough games.'
My Mum, who actually played a couple of games for Andorra in the late 70's, pointed out that by international standards this statement was not strictly true. Being a tiny village of 238 souls, cowering in the icy fastness of the high Pyrenees, Andorra is spectacularly ill-equipped to offer any meaningful resistance to most international teams. Such is the paucity of their resources that on one famous occasion in 1953, in a World Cup qualifier against Finland, two of the Andorran substitutes were Pyrenean mountain dogs. Their first success of any kind came in 1968 against a weakened Lichenstein team, when they managed to win a corner and two throw-ins. John Terry needs to know that when he plays against teams like Andorra or Lichenstein, he's not just wrestling with flesh and blood, but fighting principalities.
At half-time we were urged by Jamie Oliver to go to Sainsburys and buy hot-cross buns in celebration of Christ's victory over matter, but in light of the adverts use of smut and Jamie 'nice buns' Oliver's brazen lying, we decided to ignore him. The worst thing you can do to an egomaniac is ignore them, so in celebration of our 'victory over Jamie Oliver' we made the sign of the cross over some of my mum's walnut and beige biscuits. Luvverly jubberly!
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