The Premier League (and Monkey Tennis)

The fixtures are out and normality will once again return to the world on the 13th of August. My blogging schedule goes to shit without the Prem, leaving me scratching around for ideas Partridgesquely:

So, what's been going on since the end of last season:

Giggsy, the epitomy of professionalism, has actually been a very naughty boy for a few years. I had been trying to follow the whole sordid story in The Sun, but as it has more twists and turns than an F1 track, I had to give up. Many of the Man U faithful have chanted Ryan's name in connection with a knighthood. His shenanigans shouldn't affect the outcome too much as mounting has always been one of the principal tasks of a knight.

Rooney's supposed to have had a hair transplant. Still not sure if that was only a piss take, or a PR stunt.

Sparky left Fulham with no apparent explanation given. I think the embarrassment of that Michael Jackson statue finally took its toll.

Ancelotti, as expected, was made to walk the plank. FA Cup and the league title in his first season, old mother Hubbard's cupboard in the second, "Thanks Carlo. Now, fuck off!"

The best one though, for me, is the McLeish soap opera. After seeing Birmingham relegated he decides that it would be a prudent move to take the vacant Villa post - Braveheart. The only difference being that it'll probably be the English hordes baring their arseholes this time.

Dogs

Some old biddy got on the bus this morning carrying a little bundle of white hair under her arm. On first inspection I thought it was an armpit problem, but then realised that it was a dog. The little bastard had the sort of expression on its mug which said, "Look at me, cunts! I've got two more legs than you have, and this stupid bitch still carries me around... even on the bus."

Occasionally, I observe some dog walkers from the apartment, and I think, "What the fuck is that all about?" There they are, poor bastards, struggling up the street with 2 or 3 animals apiece. Surely if you own a dog, then that's the only reason you have it - to walk it around. Let's face it, they're good for fuck all else.

Then, there are DOG CLOTHES! Come on, let's be realistic... it looks fucking ludicrous. We dress them up, carry them around, and pick up their shit - who owns who? The missus has been banging on recently about getting one, and my answer's always the same, "Go ahead, but unless it can clean up after itself, order a pizza, and nip out to get me a six-pack, then I don't want to know."

I will concede that they're not completely useless. The mother-in-law keeps 3 of them for security purposes, however, they're not allowed in the house, and they'll only eat whatever they fucking get. In other words, they're kept in line.

When I was a lot younger I was told of another, more disturbing reason for keeping a dog. I worked with a divorced woman who treated her little mutt like it was human. It had its own room, got the best of grub, you name it. A few of us were out for a bevy one night, and the topic of the canine-human relationship popped up. This woman argued her case very strongly and then nipped out to the bog. While she was away, a wily old colleague of mine, Harry, piped up and said, "You know why they call them lap dogs, don't you?"

King Leer Society - Commendations

I've witnessed some top leering over the last two weeks...

First mention goes to the man who cuts my hair, barber bloke. Whilst giving me a short back and sides, he broke off from his snipping to ogle the arris of a young lady who was passing his shop window. True professional, this boy. He instinctively knew to stop what he was doing, thus ensuring my safety, and also allowing us both the opportunity to take in the view.

Next, the two lads working in the internet cafe of a local shopping mall. I had popped in to get a couple of copies done when a tasty morsel, decked out in knee length boots and painted on jeans, appeared on my radar. The two youths, a little slow to begin with, soon locked in and performed an admirable synchronised backwards leer. Undoubted top talent for the future.

The final one was the most heart-warming. Seated opposite me on the bus was what appeared to be a father and son, the boy probably wouldn't have been much more than 18. As we pulled up at a stop, I observed a fine specimen with huge thrupenny bits, bounding down the pavement. The father (could've been an uncle, or a pedo, now that I think of it) nudged the boy and motioned towards the display of bounciness. An all too rare example of the young learning from the old.

Pan Pipes Conspiracy Theory

I was on the bus this morning when two punters got on and started playing the pan pipes. They opened with The Sound of Silence (Simon & Garfunkel), and finished with (they only played two bits of music) El Condor Pasa (that song by Simon & Garfunkel which begins, "I'd rather be a hammer than a nail," although I have only just found out that that's the actual title). This got me thinking.

I've been in South America for about 4 years, and I've heard the pan pipes played in lots of different countries/locations, but I've never heard anyone play anything except Simon & Garfunkel stuff. To be more specific - I don't remember hearing anything other than these two songs. Taking this into consideration, the question is:

Which came first - the pan pipes or Simon and Garfunkel (that's getting fucking tedious - S&G is easier)?

According to some bloke on the internet, the pan pipes were invented about 6,000 years ago, whereas S&G have only been about for 50 odd years. Chronologically, there's a bit of a discrepency. So what is the connection between the two?

For me, there can only be one possible answer... these songs were actually composed by the ancient Peruvians. Then the songs fell into disuse, only to be discovered on manuscripts by S&G when on a trip to South America. However, this doesn't explain why modern pan pipes buskers (PPBs) don't play other classic, ancient Peruvian numbers such as, Cecilia, Hazy Shade of Winter, or Mrs Robinson.

Come on, PPBs. Pull your fucking fingers out, and give us the full repertoire!