My Poor Head
What’s up, Sunday. My head hurts very much this today after watching England’s marvellous victory over France in the Rugby World Cup.
It’s quite simple really:
Beer + Wine
——————— = Hangover
World Cup
I lived in France for several years when I was a kid and a highlight in my sporting calendar was England against Les Bleus in the Five Nations. It’s kind of like a derby match, which made last night extra special, topped off by me sending a text to my dad who was watching the match with his wife in Bordeaux.
He went to Bordeaux with his wife, that is. I should explain that just in case you think he has a wife in Bordeaux who he meets up with to watch rugby matches.
The Bordelais love rugby and wine, so it must have been a good experience to watch us tonk them on French soil. Admittedly we didn’t win by much - by no means a gulf of tonking, but it was enough.
Kenny Rogers must be pleased. Still no word from Dolly Parton.
Speaking of derby matches, Everton play Liverpool next week. It is a match I hate because of the pride at stake. Unless we win. More about that later. If we win.
OK, I thought I better post something, even though my head is very fuzzy. Not much else to say.
Um - this is good. I wonder if there are any more girl singers with south London accents (Lilly Allen, Adele, Kate Nash) who are being advised to just sing straight because we’ve all had enough. But serious, this time, watch that video. I really like the melody - it’s very original and a nice song for a Sunday hangover.
Right. That’ll do it. I know it’s late and not much, but it’s better than nothing, and I can continue to be a one-hit wonder on a daily basis.
If you’d like to know more about hangovers, you can turn on our television channel at This Is This TV and not have your say about the issues in this post because it’s a one way medium.
October 14th, 2007 at 5:05 pm
I watched it in The Faltering Fullback - a self-proclaimed rugby pub. I should probably mention that it was only the second game of rugby I’ve ever watched in my life, the first being when we beat Australia in the final of whichever World Cup that was. So I have a 100% record so far and I’m very proud of it.
There were this couple of jokers who thought it’d be funny to get dressed up and squeeze into probably the busiest pub in North London wearing striped black and white sweaters, berets and strings of garlic around their necks. They had even brought baguettes, which they wielded aloft every time the French scored. Or tried. Or whatever.
Highlight of the game for me was when England turned it around towards the end and the pub erupted in a spontaneous chorus of “you can stick yer fucking baguette up your arse”.
However, the chant was started by a bunch of northerners, so it took me a while to figure out that we weren’t lambasting some absent rugby star by the name of Baggot.
C’est la vie.
October 14th, 2007 at 6:20 pm
Hey Jim - thanks. I bet there were two similar blokes in a pub in Paris dressed as WWII bomber pilots or something. Maybe pinstripe suits and bowler hats.
Vive l’indifference.