I had a bit of a scare this evening. As I approached my flat on the way back from work, I noticed that the front door was left open. A little puzzled by this, I entered the hallway only to be greeted by this…

Now, I know the photo doesn’t look too scary, but when you open a door and come face to face with a snarling black cat, stuffed or not, it does give you a quite shock.

I think the family downstairs are to blame for this. I’ll get my revenge. Medalling kids.

You may have noticed a few changes to Sparkster.net. This is because I have moved over to the blogging tool Blogger.com.

I have done this for a number of reasons, not least because when I used to update my site using Dreamweaver I was solely dependant upon my laptop. With Blogger.com, I can now blog from any computer with an internet connection.

All my previous blogs are still available and can be accessed via the navigation bar.

It’s been an action packed weekend and I haven’t blogged since Wednesday so I have a lot to cover. Before you ready any further, I would suggest putting on a pot of coffee and finding a comfortable chair. This is going to be a long one…

Friday
After work I walked into town for an evening out with work colleagues. Socialising with co-workers is not a regular occurrence of mine, but this was one event that would have been rather difficult to avoid.

We went to a Chinese restaurant with an “all you can eat” buffet. I don’t normally enjoy Chinese food, I prefer Indian or Italian, but this place was surprisingly good. The only problem I did experience was that so many dishes contained fish. I hate fish. I had to be very careful when selecting the food and twice had to leave plates full of fishy rice and noodles on vacant tables.

After eating all that was humanly possible within a two hour period, we went to a pub for a few drinks. Again, not what I expected. I imagined that everybody around me would be drinking themselves into a deeply pissed state and forcing me to stoop to their level by offering endless rounds of alcohol. Luckily this was not the case and we all enjoyed a few relaxed pints before going home.

Saturday
Curry. Beer. GoldenEye. Oh and just a little matter of a Leeds United win. An excellent day.

The new Leeds manager, Dennis Wise has received the official “Sparkster Thumbs Up” for beating Southend 2-0. I was beginning to forget what it was like to actually win a game! I made a mix for the game here, my first of the season.

Mr. Watkins and I then went into Bath for dinner. My regular eatery, Garfunkles was annoyingly full so we had the difficult task of deciding where to go instead. Mr. Watkins was insistent we go to Nandos, mainly because he likes playing matchmaker between me and a particular waitress (who probably doesn’t work Saturday’s anyway). This time my stubbornness prevailed and we went to my choice of restaurant, Eastern Eye.

Not since Mr. White’s birthday, when there was so much embarrassment from a group of lager louts had I been to Eastern Eye, the best Indian restaurant in Bath. Last nights visit reminded me of what a good curry actually tasted like.

After we had eaten we went back to mine (via Sainsbury’s to collect Simon) for our weekly GoldenEye session. After GoldenEye the debate of “What’s better, Fifa or Pro Evo?” came back. Simon and I decided to play both games. One match on each. I was Barcelona while Simon chose Arsenal. We started with Pro Evo. I lost 5-0. On Fifa I won 8-0. Therefore it was concluded that Fifa is the best football game of all time and I am the champion.

Sunday
Nothing much happened today.

That is all. Goodnight.

I went to Bristol this evening to watch the Borat movie. I was able to get hold of a pair of free tickets last week, so though I would check it out.

I have always been a fan of Sacha Baron Cohen’s character and I wasn’t disappointed by the film. The plot is very loose and follows Borat as he travels across America, making a film for his homeland Kazakhstan as well as perusing his new found love, Pamela Anderson.

The film is full of laughs from start to finish and mainly consists of interviews where Borat fools gullible Americans. These sketches are stuck together using scripted material featuring Cohen, his co-star Ken Davitian and a live bear.

There are many moments which are just so cringe worthy. Defecating into a plastic bag at a dinner party, singing the Kazakhstan national anthem (to the tune of the American anthem) at a rodeo and destroying the contents of an antiques shop will leave you either laughing or with your head in your hands in shock.

Overall, one of the funniest films I have seen this year and one I highly recommend, even if you have to pay for it.

Before the cinema, my friend Watkins and I went to McDonalds for a bite to eat. I hadn’t been to such a restaurant in almost two years and now I remember why. As we entered the building, I realised what my idea of hell actually was. It was a McDonald’s restaurant in Bristol.

We had to join a massive queue full of teenage chavs. They were all poorly dressed and had food and mud stains covering their tatty clothes. Some appeared to be with parents, but the mothers looked to be teenagers themselves, so it was hard to tell. They were all either extremely thin or massively obese and the use of the English language was simply foul – “yeah, but no but…” Give me Bath chavs over Bristol any day, at least they can dress themselves and manage to string a sentence together.

After the cinema, we went to The Wishing Well at Longwell Green for our proper meal. Having already eaten I wasn’t that hungry, but ordered a curry. It wasn’t the best I had ever eaten and I left most of it. Watkins frowned upon my efforts to finish the meal, but I think he should be grateful. The last curry I had which I didn’t like the look of, ended up on the floor.

Simon and I had a nice Sunday afternoon planned. At midday we would take a leisurely stroll into town, where we would go to the Slug and Lettuce wine bar, enjoy a light lunch and drink while watching the Man Utd/Liverpool match followed by the Reading/Arsenal game. Things didn’t go exactly to plan…

The weather was shit, the typical English type. Lots of fine rain, the type that soaks you through.

Crap weather

Upon arrival at The Slug and Lettuce, we discovered, to our annoyance that they did not have Sky Sports. The wall mounted plasma screens were just showing BBC News 24. We left and headed into the pouring rain, walking down Bath high street, passing recently erected Christmas decorations – it’s only fucking October!

Christmas! Bah humbug!

We went in and out of various food serving pubs, all of which were either packed full of Manchester United fans or old people and therefore not showing football. We even tried TGI Fridays, but ran off when the French waiter wasn’t looking as the menu was less than impressive (don’t worry, we hadn’t ordered anything).

In the end we ate at Garfunkles (just for a change). It was lunchtime and I only fancied a light meal. I ordered a club sandwich. The waitress brought out a massive platter filled with great slabs of bread, mountains of chips, all on a bed of salad, very nice, but a little more than I wanted.

Once our hunger had been addressed, we went back to one of the previous pubs. We had missed the ManU game, but were hopeful of finding somewhere to sit and watch Arsenal. St. Christopher’s Inn was able to suffice and we parked our wet selves on the sofas.

It was a nice pub and not packed with lager filled football hooligans cheering every time Arsenal won a corner. I always like to join in with chants and singing when it’s a Leeds match, but anyone else, I become rather perturbed. All in all, a very civilised place to go, although I did receive a rather puzzled look from a barman when ordering a coffee. Is it really a crime to have a hot drink (while cold and wet) in between pints? Apparently yes.

Tonight is the lowest moment in my time as a Leeds supporter. In 2004, I watched my beloved club relegated at the hands of Bolton Wanderers. In May, I travelled to The Millennium Stadium to watch Leeds get thrashed 3-0 by Watford. Today is a new low. Leeds lost 5-1 to Luton Town and sit deep within the Championship relegation zone.

After the game, the manager, who isn’t really a manager, just a caretaker, refused to do a press interview. Cunt.

The players are a shambles. They don’t give a shit. As long as they receive their excessive wages in their bank each week, they’re happy. Fuck the fans, fuck the club. Useless cunts.

The chairman, Ken Bates. What a cunt. He may have saved the club from liquidation back in 2005, but looking at the state of affairs this season, I would have taken my chances with the administrators. It now costs over 50% to watch us lose 4-0 to Stoke City than it cost to watch us beat Chelsea 2-0 a few years ago.

The ex-manager, Kevin Blackwell. The self-proclaimed God who should be walking on water. He should be drowned. He supposedly built a team from nothing. He’s left Leeds with a bunch of donkeys not fit for the knackers yard.

I’m not even going to start on the ex-Leeds United board which includes the infamous Peter Ridsdale. All I’ll say is that if karma exists, he’ll choke to death on one of his many pies he feeds into his heavily bloated body and go straight to hell.

If Leeds do not sort this mess out they will be down. Relegated to Coca Cola League One where they will play the likes of Brentford, Carlise, Cheltenham, Leyton Orient, Port Vale and Yeovil fuckin’ Town. If this happens I may kill myself. I am already considering how.

Fuck you Leeds players
Fuck you Ken Bates
Fuck you John Carver
Fuck you Kevin Blackwell
Fuck you Peter Ridsdale
You’re all cunts

… here we come

While browsing my computer’s hard drive on a lazy Friday afternoon at work, I found an application containing audio of a bumble bee (a bit like this one ).

I had great fun randomly playing it whenever anybody would walk into the office, causing them to look into the air for flying insects.

To add extra realism, I got a colleague involved and we played the buzzing sound on multiple workstations, making the whole room sound like a live beehive.

Once that particular novelty had worn off, the joke of “There’s a bug inside my computer” cause even further amusement.

As you can probably tell, work wise, my Friday afternoon wasn’t that busy. Or should that be buzzy? I’ll get my coat.

Many celebrities have strange fashion accessories. Paris Hilton has a miniature dog in her handbag. Elton John has David Furnish in his bedroom and now it seems that Madonna has a child.

I’ve heard all these stories lately of how Madge flew into a poor Malawian village in her private jet and ordered all the local children to congregate in one place so she could take one home with her. This all seems a little strange to me. The last time a young black boy was purchased this way was during the slave trade hundreds of years ago and more recently when Theo Walcott left Southampton for Arsenal.

Madonna has promised the new child a fantastic lifestyle. That I am not disputing, I am sure that with her wealth she will be able to offer the child so much more than it would receive in the orphanage.

The thing I have a problem with, is what about all the orphans she didn’t pick? Is it simply a case of “Fuck them, I’ve got my baby” Throughout it’s childhood, the baby will no doubt cost Madonna millions of pounds on toys, clothes, lavish birthday parties, bodyguards and nannies. Surely this money could be put to better use funding a larger orphanage and improved care for all the disadvantaged children in Malawian and not just the one lucky enough to catch Madonna’s eye? The whole thing stinks of a publicity stunt and a selfish good deed.

Contrary to various reports in the media, I can confirm that Leeds United did not play a game this evening. Any news stories you may read, like this one, are all lies.

My friend Simon informs me that Arsenal did not play either, despite this article appearing on the BBC website.

Vicious rumour starting journalists…

This afternoon Simon insisted that I join him and his allies from last night for a game of football in Victoria Park. Having not played in a while and feeling rather tired, I wasn’t overly keen, yet didn’t dare disobey Simon’s orders and face his wrath.

The game of football was originally arranged at the party where a group of other “sportsmen” gave Simon the impression of being extremely enthusiastic about a kick around this afternoon. This enthusiasm was no doubt brought on by excess alcohol, something that leads to a hangover the following morning. Therefore, unsurprisingly, the previously “wannabe Ronaldinho’s” didn’t “wanna come-out-io”.

Most of the kick around was a rather mediocre affair. Lack of players and lack of passion from those who did manage to drag themselves to the park was about the gist of things. *

The football got better later on when Simon used his magical powers of persuasion (or mental intimidation) to lure two unsuspecting foreign lads and a father and son to join in. I played my David Healy role – wander around the goal and wings, waiting for a good delivery. This did provide a few goals, one of which impressed Simon greatly.

I can’t have been that good however, as I was soon relegated to goalie. I did manage to pull off some saves but also let in a fair few. Still, one thing I can say about my game, I may have been bad, but I wasn’t as shit as the Leeds players yesterday in their 4-0 raping at the hands of Stoke City.

After football we all left exhausted and drove to Garfunkles where we ate like kings. Chocolate milkshake and BBQ Chicken were among my orders and very nice they were too, especially as I was starving from being made to work like a dog all afternoon.

Now Mr. Goater (coach), where’s my £50,000 weekly pay cheque?

* Maybe a tad unfair on my team mates. Lack of passion from myself, yes, but I didn’t originally want to go, so I am excused.