Big Mac Wins The Big Match

Hello Football Enthusiasts of the Electro Globe. I feel compelled for inebriated reasons to pass on another secret of my single success as a 21st Century Manchester Uniteeeed Tribute Football Team Soccer Manager in Andalucia, Spain.

I keep them on a semi liquid diet of MacDonalds Big Match Macs for two weeks before the game and then announce a complete withdrawal of the privilege should the team attempt to lose: Sound familiar? (See previous post).

All important Team Physical Fitness is obtained by sporadic nocturnal visits to the said; “Mac'Eh'De” eatery, followed by a breathless stagger around the outer walls of Ronald's Gym Club for urination and then on to the van, or within.

On Match Days we repeat the same procedure but then take the detour of a perilous sprint into LIDL (Lumpy Industrial Deutsch Lard) for a Supermarket Dash cardiac workout to obtain Economic Germananic Foodstuffs. Then all back to the Pre-Match Mobility Scooter Nirvana and BBQ'D Burnt Weener, that is if we manage not to crash the van into a crossing cow, again.


An Unnatural Alliance

Apologies to anybody who gives a shit about what I post, but I have not had much desire to use the internet in the last few months due probably to enjoying a more visceral and less virtual life. No disrespect to WWW intended.

This rather poor photograph details a strange incident a week or so ago when I found myself accidentally managing a Tribute to Manchester United Football Team in Spain, makes a welcome change from another Fink Ployd, Ned Zeplin or Arcade Monkeys.

I am sporting what I consider to be respectable atirment for the position. I can be seen swigging from a bottle of budget flavoured rum I retrived from the icup they are holding. My training of the team and tactical methods were brutal and basically involved group Cruz Campo Lager drinking before and during the match, but forboten alcohol post match. Thus the team Imbibed like Trojans, and of course we won. I loath football but always enjoy a good win.