I love football a lot and by that I mean I watch it a lot. I don't play it because of my pussy ass bad ankle. That and because I'm shit at it. I don't like to do things I'm shit at. This is why I haven't had sex in 9 years. I did, however play a lot of football at school. Every break time and lunchtime for 12 years I played football. In that whole time I think I touched the ball twice.
Last night I had a memory of the first time I played football at school. I was six years old and we were playing with a stone. I'm not joking. There were about twenty of us kicking a mid sized rock and I don't mean just kicking it about. We had an organised eleven a side game. If the rock went over a fence into someone's garden one of us would have to go over there... 'Can we have our stone back please?' This was Newcastle in 1986. Times were hard. If you want to do some research watch Billy Elliot. I think Newcastle had just the one football that year and I'm guessing Gazza had it that day.
Even though I love football I have found the way it's dominated the news in the last couple of days embarrassing and I'm someone who frequently watches Sky Sports News for eleven hour stretches. Many a time I've seen the same Mick McCarthy interview fifteen times in a day. But such blanket coverage feels very wrong on the proper news channels. Yesterday they cut away from Heather Mills at the Leveson inquiry to go to an FA press conference. I was momentarily angry. How could they cut away from real news for football nonsense? Then I remembered that what I was regarding as 'real news' was Heather Mills.
It seems obvious that the 'real news' going on right now is in Syria. But here's the thing - every time Syria comes on the news I turn over. That's right guys, I'm telling it like it is. You come here for the truth, don't start complaining if you don't like it. The situation in Syria seems so utterly helpless I've decided to ignore it.
Right, this blog post isn't going well. I've backed myself into a corner where I'm talking about ignoring Syria. How did I get here? This was not the plan. I blame the illuminati. They're always fucking up my shit. The other day the god damn illuminati made me leave my phone charger at home. God damn illuminati!
I'm a little out of practice with this blog. I spent last week filming a sit com pilot near Huddersfield. I wanted the pilot and the my performance to be as good as possible but for much of the time my main focus was staying warm. Actually we shot pretty much all our scenes outside in minus 'Christ, it's cold' temperatures so 'staying warm' wasn't an option. We never were warm. The ultimate aim was to 'approach warm'. I was creeping up on warm from behind but I never caught it.
What do you think the chances are of this blog post getting a movie deal? The plot seems to veer all over the place. There are no protagonists to root for. There's just this narrator character who seems to not know where the fuck he's going. Perhaps it something to do with the fact the narrator has only had a yoghurt for breakfast and isn't fully awake yet. Perhaps the narrator will now make himself some peanut butter on toast that he'll regret within minutes.
