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I Was There

Great moments in sport No. 87: Steven Seagal at the Boat Race

My first experience of what you English call the 'Boat Race' was way back in 1978 when I was in England for the annual Neck Snapping Derby. The previous year I was beaten by Ling Eeeeeee-Lo, my ageing Kwand-eeeeek-oh Master from way back. Ling was old school, and was accompanying me on this trip. Boy, was I looking forward to cracking a few windpipes with the old guy.

I arrived three days before the competition began, so it gave Ling and me the opportunity to take in some of the sights including the changing of the Guard at Birmingham Palace, which I'm lead to believe is an ancient ritual which dates back over 24 years.

On the day of the race we found our spot by the river and assumed the lotus position. Ling had spotted an ice cream van and expressed a desire for a 99 ice cream cone. After having fulfilled my mission, I got back to discover that Ling had been moved on to another spot by a group of guys who were wearing their jumpers around their necks and sipping 'Pimms'. I handed The Master his cone and asked what happened. "They said there was a big group of them and asked if they could have the spot, and I said fine," he replied. He looked okay, but where I come from people show a little more respect to their elders than these assholes.

So I walked over to the biggest guy in the group. "You enjoy disrespecting old men, throwing your weight around?" He reached into his picnic hamper and offered me a scotch egg, to which I replied: "Oh so you’re a tough guy now, huh?" Before he had a chance to move, I'd grabbed his arm, snapped it in two and punched him in the nose with my palm, pushing the bone into his brain.

As the Cambridge boat sank, handing victory to a deserving Oxford crew, the rest of the gang scattered. In a flash, I pulled out my nine mil' and finished the job, apart from this fat guy I felt sorry for, so I let him off with a dislocated pelvis. That's what you get for messing about on my part of the river.

As told to Matt Owen

 

Idiot Stockbrokers Continue To Ruin Your Life

STOCKBROKERS are preparing for a third day of running around and waving their hands in the air, shouting 'nooooooooooooooooooo!!!'.

In London, the FTSE 100 ate all its clothes and crashed its Aston Martin into the Bank of England before running around the Monument shouting 'nooooooooooooo!!!'.

In Frankfurt the Dax opened its bowels into the waste paper basket and then smeared “I hate shares” in excrement on the walls before running out into the street shouting 'neeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiin!!!'.

The CAC in Paris had its worst day since it threw up on its new suit after a bad snail, while in New York the Dow Jones took an assault rifle to work and posted a video on YouTube.

Evan Davies, the BBC's economics editor, said: “The world’s stock markets are like a finely tuned barrel of eels.

“As they plunge, sea levels rise, leading to a fall in the price of dogs. Even if cat prices remain stable a recession then occurs. No one knows why.”

Davies added: “People often ask me why they have to lose their job and their home because a man in an expensive shirt made some terrible decisions. I tell them no-one knows.”

Alastair Darling, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, woke up in his own shit.

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