Archive for January 2012
Normally the Barmy Army trumpet rings out it works as a call to arms, the signal for a thousand stupefied contract workers to form a disorderly conga and sing ribald songs about Mitchell Johnson. In Dubai it sounds like a lonely last post. Where is everyone? Perhaps the insurmountable clash of cultures is to blame. Beer snakes and t-shirts bearing unhilarious ‘all Australian people are convicts’ slogans are actually forbidden according to sharia law. Getting lashed is stitched into the constitution of the Barmy Army. But not with an actual lash.
The ICC are hoping that the attendance will double when the series returns to Dubai for the final game. I’m going.
As for the team, maybe they are pining for the boozy encouragement from the sidelines. Or maybe they didn’t prepare properly. A lot has been spoken about the issues that the English batsmen had picking the length of the spinners. Thanks to an e-mail from a nice woman who appears to be doing PR for dhows, I’ve found the reason why:
I am descending into a dangerous obsession with the way in which people stagger onto this site. Of course the more I discuss the squalid succession of search engine terms that have been typed in to arrive at this destination, such pearls as “sex Hazel Irvine snooker” and “Sue Barker discusses Serena Williams tits”, the more likely it is that these kind of internet bottom-feeders will find themselves here.
Today we had a visitor with the following query, “what is the worst hurdler set to Coldplay?” Well that certainly is a question that needs to be asked. I’m not a expert in the field of athletes performing to alternative rock music but if I was pushed for answer I would probably plump for Tony Jarrett. He seems like the type of hurdler who would struggle to run to the tunes of Coldplay.
Anyway, all this is just leading up to a plug for my latest piece for the Huffington Post. They don’t really accept articles about Hazel Irvine’s breasts so I’ve written about fat people instead. Here it is.