So according the local newspaper in Leeds, t’Yorkshire Evening Post, former-chairman and former-honorary president, Ken Bates, tried to buy various assets of Leeds United before departing. Namely the club’s website, TV channel (LUTV), radio station (Yorkshire Radio) as well as the water works, electrical company and Old Kent Road. OK, those last three were a lie.
Bates apparently failed in his purchase, which will probably please a number of Leeds fans who protested against him during his reign. It looks like these utilities will be staying with Leeds United and their new owners for now…
These prices are also a load of bollocks too (don’t sue me)
I also hope we never see this card again…
Or this private jet playing piece…
Oh, and while we’re on the subject of Monopoly and Leeds United, please don’t mention hotels.
Schadenfreude
Noun
Pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune.
I received an email yesterday afternoon from Sky Bet. Not being a regular gambler, I would normally mark such correspondence as ‘spam’, deleting it from my inbox. However, in this instance I opened it. Inside was some waffle about a new online game I could play on my iPad. Blah blah blah. I read on. After lots of guff, I was informed I had a free £5 bet to use on this new game. Despite not knowing anything about it, I downloaded the application from the App Store and entered the promotional code for my free bet.
Having launched the application, I stared blankly at the game. It meant nothing to me. All I could see were some cartoons of jungle animals and strange symbols. The only button which looked like it did anything was one labelled ‘spin’. I pressed it. After a few flashes on screen and a roar of a lion, I was told I had won £41.25. Blimey. It felt like I had mugged an old aged pensioner. Considering Rupert Murdoch owns part of Sky, I suppose in a way I did.
Surely making over forty pounds is harder than that? I quickly deposited the money into my bank account. There was, however more of my free bet remaining. Again, I had no idea what to do, so I pressed ‘spin’ again. After another bizarre animal noise and onscreen animation, I was told I had won £14. This time I had taken candy from a baby – £14 worth of candy to be precise. Before the online police could catch me, I moved my latest winnings into my bank, before returning to the game for more money making enjoyment. This was getting fun. Alas, my free bets ran out. I had, however made £55 from Sky.
To celebrate me screwing over Rupert the Bear, I went to Bristol with Simon and John. Simon invited his friend along. He supports Tottenham Hotspur.
The first stop was Nandos where I had an adequate meal. Not shit. Not that nice either. Nandos is always good, but my chicken was a bit dry. Simon complained that I took too long eating it. I prefer to chew my food and not devour it whole, like a duck eating bread. The way Simon and John moaned about my speed of consumption, you would have thought I had taken a month to eat my chicken. While I ate my meal, and my friends moaned, the Spurs supporter sat quietly, presumably worrying about the future of Gareth Bale.
We left Nandos shortly after, although Simon and John would tell you that it was hours later, before driving to Showcase cinema. There is a Vue right next to Nandos, but that is overpriced and often overcrowded with smelly Bristolians.
It had already been decided we would go to see The Worlds End. I had no objections, so did what I was told and paid for my ticket. Simon had snuck a couple of bottles of Sheppy’s cider into the cinema. Considering they sell alcohol at the snack bar, I didn’t think there was anything morally wrong with this. It was just that we were getting a far superior drink for a greatly reduced price. Simon and I had two bottles between us, and had drank all but a few drops before the film even started. A stupid advert with David Beckham drinking espresso and wandering around in just his pants is enough to turn anyone to drink.
The film was OK. It had Simon Pegg and his fat mate in it. I forget the fat man’s name. I could look on IMDB for it, but meh. If you’re that interested, and you’re probably not, you can look for yourself… I just remembered… Nick Frost.
I thought the film was going to be primarily about a load of middle-aged men going on a pub crawl, with predictably hilarious results. It started off that way and yes, I found it rather funny. Then things got a bit weird and robots got involved, some sci-fi shit happened and I got bored.
My review of The Worlds End in just five words… “It was not Hot Fuzz.”
On Friday I blogged about the fucking brilliant news that Ken Bates had left Leeds United. This morning I read the hilarious news that he had been sacked. I was lying in bed at the time, reading it on my iPhone. So amused by the story, I nearly wet the bed. According to the report, he was relieved of his “honorary president duties” for ordering himself a private jet costing £500k. Apparently he may now to sue us. Bring it on, I say. Leeds United’s managing director, David Haigh is a trained lawyer. Of course, if the matter can’t be settled in court, there’s always The Jeremy Kyle Show.
It’s finally happened! After 8 and a half years of discontent, Ken Bates has left Leeds United. Bye bye, Mr Chairman. Bye bye, Mr President.
Bates is out!
What… you want to review it, Michael Clarke? OK…
Nope. Sorry. He’s still out.
BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT! BATES OUT!
Unless you’re a Leeds fan, you probably won’t appreciate the significance of this news, but it is very big and very important to all Leeds supporters.
Goodbye, Mr Bates. It’s been shit. I’ll remember you for relegating us, putting us into administration and this.
Private Eye summed up this week’s news perfectly – “Woman Has Baby”.
It’s not that I am against the monarchy. When William and Kate got married, I didn’t protest or moan on Twitter about them. (OK, I may have complained a little on Twitter. Maybe even on this blog) It’s just that I am not very interested. The day they wed, I watched Hot Fuzz.
I don’t like the hype that surrounds it all and how it is dragged out for so long – the lead up to the birth, the labour, even waiting a few days to name the sprog. I’m sure it was done just to piss me off.
Apparently even Sky Sports News interrupted their daytime broadcast to announce the birth. Although if as a result, it distracted everyone from the footage of Manchester United’s tour of Asia and the hordes of lifelong supporters from Indonesia, that is probably a good thing.
To make matters worse, everyone is now cashing in on the birth. I have hated the Argos “alien” adverts for as long as I can remember, but now they have a baby alien, coincidentally the same day as Kate gave birth to James William Bottomtooth, or whatever she named her child.
Dear Argos. Please stop showing the alien baby adverts. In fact, please stop showing the alien adverts completely. Send them back to where they came from. If I see one more alien advert on television, I will have no choice but to make Index my primary catalogue shop. What? Index was wound-up in 2005? Bollocks.
Oh well. By the time the baby becomes king, I’ll be dead.