Round 1 Blues v Tigers Match Day Rant Thread

[thylacine60]

Bloody oatheth he doth!

 

[Azzurro]

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said that "football is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a slice of bacon and placed on a pie floater".

Never was a truer word spoken, as I found out evening last while pacing the floor of my opulent mansion, awaiting news by post of the latest results of my beloved Carlton Football Club's outing against the hated Knitting and Other Womanly Pursuits Club of Richmond.

Hearken! As I tell you the story of that awe-some night.

News of the first quarter's play arrived, proffered to me in the soft, quivering, phalanges of my favourite page-boy.

On reading the news I was adrift. Long did I pause, and stare at my manly, Carlton-supporting hands. Heavy did those hands then beat at the panelling of my chambers. Judd of the Christ, doubled over and puffing like an altar boy at the service of his Vicar? Behinds numbering up to eight while goals numbering only two?

Would that I could take the nearest Whore-Beast of the Black and Yellow and throttle her to the very brink of death, before relaxing and beginning the satisfyingly ghastly torture once more.

But what did my thoughts count to the score of the matter? Surely the evenings play could not be afftected by my terrible rage? A man's reach be as long as his arms, not to the extent of his brain's unbridled hatred!

Any man foolish enough to utter such words within the wide radius of my exquisitely attuned aural canals should surely count himself lucky to escape with both of his lips attached to his face.

For I sukt in great breath and cursed the ladies of Richmond and all their progeny 'til the very timbers of my lodgings shook and rocked. Great oaths and summonings did issue forth, the maddest and terrible curses were sworn as I poured gallons of ale into my belly, the better to fuel my unholy indignation.

My chamber-maid burst into the room, eyes haunted by the merest thought that a wild, unholy beast had crossed from the anterior firmament to invade our world to attack her beloved master.

Lacking a vessel for my righteous rage I reached out and snapped her poorly-nourished body in twain. A nearby brandy balloon proved more than adequate in scooping up the entrails spilling from her sickly abdomen. Fussily, I must admit, for I had recovered my senses to recall the lessons of my Grand Shaklah, I picked out her liver from amongst the gore and began my work.

I will not bore you with the details of my incantations. Suffice I relate that the force of my magick was felt far and wide. Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth.

Such was the might of my wrath.

My task completed, I sat in front of the fire amongst silken cushions, twirling a goblet of maiden-blood in the light shed from the burning bones of the unfortunate young girl. I had paid seventeen bushels of dung for her but the price was well spent.

News arrived that the nineteen-and-one-half-point spread was covered and my wagers were safe.

Speechless. Actually speechless.

There are not enough adjectives to fully describe my appreciation.

My favourite part - "Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth."

 

[Donstuie]

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said that "football is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a slice of bacon and placed on a pie floater".

Never was a truer word spoken, as I found out evening last while pacing the floor of my opulent mansion, awaiting news by post of the latest results of my beloved Carlton Football Club's outing against the hated Knitting and Other Womanly Pursuits Club of Richmond.

Hearken! As I tell you the story of that awe-some night.

News of the first quarter's play arrived, proffered to me in the soft, quivering, phalanges of my favourite page-boy.

On reading the news I was adrift. Long did I pause, and stare at my manly, Carlton-supporting hands. Heavy did those hands then beat at the panelling of my chambers. Judd of the Christ, doubled over and puffing like an altar boy at the service of his Vicar? Behinds numbering up to eight while goals numbering only two?

Would that I could take the nearest Whore-Beast of the Black and Yellow and throttle her to the very brink of death, before relaxing and beginning the satisfyingly ghastly torture once more.

But what did my thoughts count to the score of the matter? Surely the evenings play could not be afftected by my terrible rage? A man's reach be as long as his arms, not to the extent of his brain's unbridled hatred!

Any man foolish enough to utter such words within the wide radius of my exquisitely attuned aural canals should surely count himself lucky to escape with both of his lips attached to his face.

For I sukt in great breath and cursed the ladies of Richmond and all their progeny 'til the very timbers of my lodgings shook and rocked. Great oaths and summonings did issue forth, the maddest and terrible curses were sworn as I poured gallons of ale into my belly, the better to fuel my unholy indignation.

My chamber-maid burst into the room, eyes haunted by the merest thought that a wild, unholy beast had crossed from the anterior firmament to invade our world to attack her beloved master.

Lacking a vessel for my righteous rage I reached out and snapped her poorly-nourished body in twain. A nearby brandy balloon proved more than adequate in scooping up the entrails spilling from her sickly abdomen. Fussily, I must admit, for I had recovered my senses to recall the lessons of my Grand Shaklah, I picked out her liver from amongst the gore and began my work.

I will not bore you with the details of my incantations. Suffice I relate that the force of my magick was felt far and wide. Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth.

Such was the might of my wrath.

My task completed, I sat in front of the fire amongst silken cushions, twirling a goblet of maiden-blood in the light shed from the burning bones of the unfortunate young girl. I had paid seventeen bushels of dung for her but the price was well spent.

News arrived that the nineteen-and-one-half-point spread was covered and my wagers were safe.

Good Lord

 

[Blue and Silver]

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said that "football is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a slice of bacon and placed on a pie floater".

Never was a truer word spoken, as I found out evening last while pacing the floor of my opulent mansion, awaiting news by post of the latest results of my beloved Carlton Football Club's outing against the hated Knitting and Other Womanly Pursuits Club of Richmond.

Hearken! As I tell you the story of that awe-some night.

News of the first quarter's play arrived, proffered to me in the soft, quivering, phalanges of my favourite page-boy.

On reading the news I was adrift. Long did I pause, and stare at my manly, Carlton-supporting hands. Heavy did those hands then beat at the panelling of my chambers. Judd of the Christ, doubled over and puffing like an altar boy at the service of his Vicar? Behinds numbering up to eight while goals numbering only two?

Would that I could take the nearest Whore-Beast of the Black and Yellow and throttle her to the very brink of death, before relaxing and beginning the satisfyingly ghastly torture once more.

But what did my thoughts count to the score of the matter? Surely the evenings play could not be afftected by my terrible rage? A man's reach be as long as his arms, not to the extent of his brain's unbridled hatred!

Any man foolish enough to utter such words within the wide radius of my exquisitely attuned aural canals should surely count himself lucky to escape with both of his lips attached to his face.

For I sukt in great breath and cursed the ladies of Richmond and all their progeny 'til the very timbers of my lodgings shook and rocked. Great oaths and summonings did issue forth, the maddest and terrible curses were sworn as I poured gallons of ale into my belly, the better to fuel my unholy indignation.

My chamber-maid burst into the room, eyes haunted by the merest thought that a wild, unholy beast had crossed from the anterior firmament to invade our world to attack her beloved master.

Lacking a vessel for my righteous rage I reached out and snapped her poorly-nourished body in twain. A nearby brandy balloon proved more than adequate in scooping up the entrails spilling from her sickly abdomen. Fussily, I must admit, for I had recovered my senses to recall the lessons of my Grand Shaklah, I picked out her liver from amongst the gore and began my work.

I will not bore you with the details of my incantations. Suffice I relate that the force of my magick was felt far and wide. Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth.

Such was the might of my wrath.

My task completed, I sat in front of the fire amongst silken cushions, twirling a goblet of maiden-blood in the light shed from the burning bones of the unfortunate young girl. I had paid seventeen bushels of dung for her but the price was well spent.

News arrived that the nineteen-and-one-half-point spread was covered and my wagers were safe.

Deserves it's own thread just so we can all comment on how gut-busting amazing this is

 

[thylacine60]

I'm rating this up there with the coming of Barassi.

 

[Blue Bawls]

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said that "football is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a slice of bacon and placed on a pie floater".

Never was a truer word spoken, as I found out evening last while pacing the floor of my opulent mansion, awaiting news by post of the latest results of my beloved Carlton Football Club's outing against the hated Knitting and Other Womanly Pursuits Club of Richmond.

Hearken! As I tell you the story of that awe-some night.

News of the first quarter's play arrived, proffered to me in the soft, quivering, phalanges of my favourite page-boy.

On reading the news I was adrift. Long did I pause, and stare at my manly, Carlton-supporting hands. Heavy did those hands then beat at the panelling of my chambers. Judd of the Christ, doubled over and puffing like an altar boy at the service of his Vicar? Behinds numbering up to eight while goals numbering only two?

Would that I could take the nearest Whore-Beast of the Black and Yellow and throttle her to the very brink of death, before relaxing and beginning the satisfyingly ghastly torture once more.

But what did my thoughts count to the score of the matter? Surely the evenings play could not be afftected by my terrible rage? A man's reach be as long as his arms, not to the extent of his brain's unbridled hatred!

Any man foolish enough to utter such words within the wide radius of my exquisitely attuned aural canals should surely count himself lucky to escape with both of his lips attached to his face.

For I sukt in great breath and cursed the ladies of Richmond and all their progeny 'til the very timbers of my lodgings shook and rocked. Great oaths and summonings did issue forth, the maddest and terrible curses were sworn as I poured gallons of ale into my belly, the better to fuel my unholy indignation.

My chamber-maid burst into the room, eyes haunted by the merest thought that a wild, unholy beast had crossed from the anterior firmament to invade our world to attack her beloved master.

Lacking a vessel for my righteous rage I reached out and snapped her poorly-nourished body in twain. A nearby brandy balloon proved more than adequate in scooping up the entrails spilling from her sickly abdomen. Fussily, I must admit, for I had recovered my senses to recall the lessons of my Grand Shaklah, I picked out her liver from amongst the gore and began my work.

I will not bore you with the details of my incantations. Suffice I relate that the force of my magick was felt far and wide. Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth.

Such was the might of my wrath.

My task completed, I sat in front of the fire amongst silken cushions, twirling a goblet of maiden-blood in the light shed from the burning bones of the unfortunate young girl. I had paid seventeen bushels of dung for her but the price was well spent.

News arrived that the nineteen-and-one-half-point spread was covered and my wagers were safe.

A wondrous string of pearls, Ghost. Almost choked on my bacon pie floater.

 

[thylacine60]

Surely the first candidate ever for limited term sticky by a single post?

 

[Team Mo']

Is this just another post whoring thread? Typical!

 

[Stamos]

I believe it was Winston Churchill who said that "football is a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in a slice of bacon and placed on a pie floater".

Never was a truer word spoken, as I found out evening last while pacing the floor of my opulent mansion, awaiting news by post of the latest results of my beloved Carlton Football Club's outing against the hated Knitting and Other Womanly Pursuits Club of Richmond.

Hearken! As I tell you the story of that awe-some night.

News of the first quarter's play arrived, proffered to me in the soft, quivering, phalanges of my favourite page-boy.

On reading the news I was adrift. Long did I pause, and stare at my manly, Carlton-supporting hands. Heavy did those hands then beat at the panelling of my chambers. Judd of the Christ, doubled over and puffing like an altar boy at the service of his Vicar? Behinds numbering up to eight while goals numbering only two?

Would that I could take the nearest Whore-Beast of the Black and Yellow and throttle her to the very brink of death, before relaxing and beginning the satisfyingly ghastly torture once more.

But what did my thoughts count to the score of the matter? Surely the evenings play could not be afftected by my terrible rage? A man's reach be as long as his arms, not to the extent of his brain's unbridled hatred!

Any man foolish enough to utter such words within the wide radius of my exquisitely attuned aural canals should surely count himself lucky to escape with both of his lips attached to his face.

For I sukt in great breath and cursed the ladies of Richmond and all their progeny 'til the very timbers of my lodgings shook and rocked. Great oaths and summonings did issue forth, the maddest and terrible curses were sworn as I poured gallons of ale into my belly, the better to fuel my unholy indignation.

My chamber-maid burst into the room, eyes haunted by the merest thought that a wild, unholy beast had crossed from the anterior firmament to invade our world to attack her beloved master.

Lacking a vessel for my righteous rage I reached out and snapped her poorly-nourished body in twain. A nearby brandy balloon proved more than adequate in scooping up the entrails spilling from her sickly abdomen. Fussily, I must admit, for I had recovered my senses to recall the lessons of my Grand Shaklah, I picked out her liver from amongst the gore and began my work.

I will not bore you with the details of my incantations. Suffice I relate that the force of my magick was felt far and wide. Ewes agisted in neighbouring properties miscarried grotesque, seven-legged offspring. In the local tavern, Collingwood supporters grew teeth.

Such was the might of my wrath.

My task completed, I sat in front of the fire amongst silken cushions, twirling a goblet of maiden-blood in the light shed from the burning bones of the unfortunate young girl. I had paid seventeen bushels of dung for her but the price was well spent.

News arrived that the nineteen-and-one-half-point spread was covered and my wagers were safe.

Should be posted on the main board

 

[drusswaylander]

I'm rating this up there with the coming of Barassi.

I guess I need to get out more, but I found it slightly disturbing

 

[blues4flag]

Found this posted on EBIAC's site. Vote for people and give him a couple hundreds (sorry EBIAC's but his trumps yours).

 

[blues4flag]

I guess I need to get out more, but I found it slightly disturbing

Just a touch but it made it all the more awesome.