Showing posts with label Ashes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ashes. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

JULIAN ASSANGE WANTS TO SCREAM "I'M FREE"

A man who struggles to understand when 'No' means 'No'.
Let's look at the facts;


Visits police station in stockinged feet, even in winter

Knowingly breaks his curfew to watch Titti T Rash.


Doesn't know who Ricky Ponting is.


Illegally films inside Beccles Police Station, outside of curfew.


Sanctions his autobiography, then denies its validity.


Actually isn't 'that bloke from Wikipedia' at all.


Prefers Waveney Valley in a tag, than Sweden without.


Cannot maintain a sensible haircut.


Didn't follow the Ashes, but happily redacted cables about boring stuff.

Thinks extradition should be requested by defence, rather than prosecution.


Has been told 'No' twice now, and still appeals, wasting valuable court time, and losing credibility in doing so.

Looks suspiciously like John Inman.




If you didn't do it Julian, go face the music.
The Swedes are lovely.

Justice will prevail, you know that.........

Tuesday, 28 December 2010

Cry God for Geoffrey
The Ashes and Saints Jonathan Trott & Agnew
A victory Dear England was most in need
in times of near poverty & snow
we exhale, we prevail,
we drink we fart we curmudgeon
and the BBC never quite far behind SKY (but valued nonetheless) posits the question;
Why celebrate the provenance of a bush-fired set of bails when the Series is not yet won?

"Sydney - It's a great place for TV & Radio people"

Friday, 26 November 2010

Day Two (of possibly five)

The Ashes Hat-Trick hangover goes beyond four cups of tea Woman’s Hour Tweet Email Tweet again And four chilly trips for a wee. The decision is to retire early Declare. And seek warmth within The duvet The wife The cat & the kitten The alarm set & ready for 5-30am. By the end of Question Time You know you’ve done fail. The cider The fire The wicket The piss in the snow The sound of Aggers chuckling at Movember, McCririck Geoffrey's lack of patience and Mr.Cricket. At midnight I hear the click And whirr Of the Economy 7 And I know I’m now in it for the night.