Fucking Over

Well, we are out of the fucking playoffs and the Soccer World Fucking Cup.

We bowed out on a bit of a low, but dudes, I got the games MVP. Fucking sweet. And I converted my extra point. Fucking sweet as fuck.





But Ingerlund always go out in O/T to extra points. Sometimes it is just the fucking way.

To tell you guys the fucking truth I don’t really know what to write any more, so this will be my last entry.

It has been a sweet fucking ride but now the time is over. Perhaps I will pop back up in two years time for the Soccer European World Fucking Cup (SEWFC).

Till then duds, it’s been fucking sweet.


Oh and for my breakfast I had waffles with maple syrup.

My fucking favourite of all.

Fucking upset.

Sorry dudes, i am still too upset to post.

But read this, it is fucking sweet.

http://football.guardian.co.uk/worldcup2006/story/0,,1811275,00.html

Fucking Becks.

Sorry about yesterday dudes. I had some fucking problem with uploading the fucking pictures. Man that sucks. I had to miss training trying to sort out the problem, so if we lose on Saturday you can blame it on fucking blogspot.com. Fuckers.

Here is yesterday’s picture that I was unable to publish.

And here dudes, was today’s.



Now, I am not about to give you another fucking lecture on the importance of breakfasts (by now you should fucking know) but here is a sweet ass quote by one of my sweetest bitches, Adelle Davis.

‘’Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper’’

Adelle never missed a breakfast, her whole fucking life!

Oh yeah. Totally fucking rad!

Also Becks told me why he was sick in the last game. I also found this link on the CBBC news website.....

What a fucking cum-stain! Don’t worry though dudes, I will totally fucking sort him out with a full round of toast, maybe half a grapefruit, some yoghurt and even some Frosties.

Fucking Bring It On!

Ok, so we have now entered the fucking playoffs and after whopping Ecudors ass we now have Portugal. That game is going to be so fucking sweet.

One of Portugal’s wide receivers is maybe out with a dead leg. And another is out through suspension. Ingerlund have a great fucking chance of winning.

I thought here is where I could review the whole fucking squad as we are at mid-way through the fucking tournament.

Robinson: Great at picking up rebounds and punting down field. 7/10



Neville: Been out through fucking injury but great to have in the roster. Looks like he will be back for the Portugal game. Sweet. 6/10

Ferdinand: Fucking awesome World Cup so fucking far. His defence has been top notch and has made fuck loads of interceptions. 9/10

Terry: His zone defence play has been great. Needs to make sure he picks up the rebounds though. 7/10

A Cole: As a cornerback his work as been so-fucking-sweet. Maybe four turnovers though last game. 8/10



Beckham: His Hail Mary’s are sweet, he is also leading the team in passing-yards. 7/10

Frank Lampard the 2nd: Needs to step up his attacking game, but great at holding the line of scrimmage. 5/10

Gerrard: Pass rush play has been fucking sweet. He is 1 for 9. Sweet. 7/10



J Cole: Our best wide receiver. Makes great runs and always gets to the end zone. 8/10



Rooney: Great on power plays and fully fit again. Fucking expect to see great fucking things. He is back in the big-league now. 8/10

Cock-shandy Crouch: Always ready for a slam-dunk or Allyoop. 7/10

Downing: A young rookie. Great at getting to first base on the left field. 6/10

Lennon: Another rookie but making a difference. Great double play and again likes to head for the end zone. 7/10



Carragher: Good squad player, filled in when he had to. Defends the home plate well. 6/10

Campbell: Great job when he comes on.

Toast week continues. Here is what I had this morning. It was fucking awesome.

Fucking Idiot!

This guy (see the fucking link dudes!),
http://www.break.com/index/faintplayer.html fainted during an interview. And you fucking know why? Because he missed breakfast. Who the fuck would do that. Once again the importance of the first meal (and might I add the fucking sweetest meal of the day) is underlined.

Please people eat well, eat breakfasts.

Also as it is toast week I give you this mornings breakfast and yesterdays.

They were both fucking sweet.

Strawberries on toast.Thats right, not fucking strawberry jelly but actual fucking strawberries. Heathier than jelly and twice and fucking nice. All washed down with a glass of strawberry milk.

Dippy soldiers and eggs. Not only fucking tasty but fucking fun to eat as well. Yum-fucking-meeee.

Fucking Umpires!

What the fucking fuck!

Everyone is fucking talking about it man. The umpire in last night’s totally wicked game between Australia and Croatia had a fucking shitty ass time.

Here is what happened and where it got fucked up.

First of all when Simunic got his firstly yellow card he did not go to the sin-bin. And thus Australia missed out on their power play!

Second Simunic did not leave the field when getting his second yellow that should have resulted in a red. Again Australia missed out on their power play.



Thirdly, and eventually, Simunic leaves the field after picking up his third yellow card and thus a fucking red.



Fucking crazy man! And do you know what else is fucking crazy. The fact that the umpire dude was Ingerlish! What the fuck, you guys…..I mean, we fucking invented the game for fucks sake.

I met up with Mark Viduka after the game for this exclusive interview:

Mark making a sweet head-pass during the interview.

Me: What the fuck?
Mark: Bonza, what the fuck man, I mean that was some crazy shit.
Me: I know, what the fuck.
Mark: Fucking crazy Owen, fucking crazy.

For my breakfast today I had toast. I have not had toast for fucking ages, so all this week I will be having toast. Therefore I declare this week toast week.

I had butter French fucking toast. It was fucking tasty as fuck.

Sweet FA!

Sweet FA, and this time it does not stand for Football Association but Fuck All.

Playing in the Soccer World Fucking Cup (the S.W.F.C) is a fucking honour. It is a fucking privilege. Not a fucking right. Players should not receive one fucking dime for playing.

Last week the Togo players settled for a deal with FIFA (Fédération Internationale de Soccer Association) that the money they receive will go straight to them rather than to their governing body to share out as they were shitting themselves that they would not see one dime. They threatened to not play in the last fucking game against France.

Now I do think that the T.S.A. (Togo Soccer Association) should be trusted to pay their roster but I don’t think that the Togo players should fucking demand the money.

They are going to get $187,000 for playing three games in the Soccer World Fucking Cup. $187,000 FOR THREE FUCKING GAMES! Totally fucking crazy man! $62,000 per game, that’s seven-hundred-fucking-dollars a minute. That is some crazy shit. All the Togo players think about is the money.

Look at the fucking evidence.

Fucking Sponsership

Look at the money bags. Greedy Fuckers.

This is a picture that my beautiful girlfriend took of me. It shows how fucking pissed I am with the whole situation. It also shows how fucking hot I am!

I am happy to play for free. Unfortunately I am not allowed to and have to pocket up to $500,000 if I will the Soccer World Fucking Cup. That fucking sucks.

Fuck Cock-shandy Crouch.

Well I have just got back to the hotel and I am fucking nakered dude.

Poor old Owen, and do you know what, it's fucking Cock-shandy Crouch’s fault!

Lets look at the fucking evidence.

1)Peter Crouch does a fucking robot dance.

2)Peter Crouch has scored in this Soccer World Fucking Cup.



3)Michael gets jealous at both the dance craze that is sweeping the fucking nation and Crouch’s goal.



4)Michael tries to emulate the dance with his own moves. He tries to throw some moves. Fucking Elvis style and look what fucking happens.



5)Crouch laughing. Fucker.



Un-be-fucking-belivable.

I hope that Michael is going to be ok. I will play in the next fucking game as well. Sweet.
Come on Ingerlund!

In preparation for the big game yesterday I had a special breakfast. It is so fucking important to get a sweet breakfast in before the game. I started off with a bowl of museli, lots of fucking energy in this bitch.



Then a bowl of fruit.

Fucking sweet as fuck.

Beautiful Fucking W.A.G.S.

First of all I should mention the T and T game. We fucking ruled dudes. Did you notice that Sven rested me for the important one against Sweden. Sweet as Fuck. But enough about T and T, lets talk T and A, Tits and ass.

W.A.G.S.

Ok, what the fuck is that I hear you ask? Well a WAGs stand for 'wives and girlfriends'.

There are some totally hot wives and girlfriends of the Ingerlund team. They are all so fucking sweet ass hot. Here are a few sweet examples;

Tweedy



Colleen



Vicky



But none of them compare to my woman. She is smart, stunning and I love her to fucking bits.

She is beautiful.

Fucking Patriotism.

Big fucking day today. Ingerlund have Trinidad and Tobago. Man I’m excited. Fucking excited. But I also want to talk about another issue. An issue that affects us all; fucking Patriotism.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love Ingerlund. I am from Canadia, I live in Germany, I own Japanese T.V’s, drive an Italian car, eat Mexican food. But I love Ingerlund so fucking much that I decided to offer my services to them over any other country.

The problem is this;

Car flags + heat = fucking deaths.

Fucking deadly.

In the heat of Ingerlund, a car flag means you can not wind down your window to get much needed fresh air. This has resulted in a huge number of deaths. The effing government have been reluctant to release any actual information but just by looking at the figures it paints a pretty clear fucking picture.

For example lets pick a country at complete random, maybe, Scotland lets say. Now as we all know they failed to qualify for the soccer world cup, their patriotism is at an all time fucking low, in fact it barley registers. Therefore they do not have car flags.

Last month in Scotland only 4,500 people (approx.) died.

Last month in Ingerlund 11,000 people (approx.) died.

Therefore an extra 6,500 people are killed in Ingerlund every fucking month. And the only factor possible is the use of car-fucking-flags.

A men died in this week just last week. The mother-fucking-police said it was a suicide (he appartently shot himself in the face). Fucking cover-up, look at the flag, the silent killer!

So I beg you, put them in your garden, in your bedroom, wear them if you fucking must, but please, don’t die loving Ingerlund.

Fucking DA bomb!

http://www.thefa.com/WorldCup2006/NewsAndFeatures/Postings
/2006/06/WorldCup_Hargreaves.htm

(copy and paste the above)

I was a bit pissed off by this article to say the least. They miss quoted me several times.

They said I said...

"I'm desperate for us to be successful," insisted England's number 16. "Whether that means I'm starting, coming off the bench, playing right-defender or whatever. The manager decides in what capacity I'm needed.

I actually said...

"I'm fucking desperate for us to be fucking successful," insisted England's number 16. "Whether that means I'm starting, coming off the fucking bench, playing right-defender or whatever the fuck. The manager effing decides in what capacity I'm needed.

Man it really fucks me off. I fucking hate being misquoted. They also said that I said...

"I've got 40 Champions League games under my belt, I've played against the best and performed in the biggest games. I take encouragement from that. I've got belief in my ability."

But I actually said...

"I've got a sweet fuck loads of Champions League games under my belt, I've played against the fucking best and performed in the biggest fucking games. I take encouragement from that, sweet fucking encouragement. I've got belief in my ability, sweet fucking belief."

Here is a sweet pic of Me and Wayne taking the piss out of Cock-shandy Crouch.

Fucking big head!

Ok. Here’s the deal.

I don’t give a fuck about money. I don’t give a shit about sponsorship. I don’t give a rat’s ass about image. I just wanna translate and play fucking soccer.

But when companies go and make money from my image, then that really gets my fucking goat!

I understand I’m in demand, I realise that every fucking kid in the country wants to be me, but just look at this. I mean, what the fuck!

But most of all what the fuck is going on with my head. I know I have a great self belief in both my translation skills and soccer skills, but are they trying to say I'm big-fucking-headed!

This morning for breaky I had a sweet bowl of Cornflakes with sugar on. I know what you are thinking! That's Frosties. Cornflakes and sugar is just fucking Frosties. And you are right man. Fucking crazy.

One Fucking Nil

Dude, we have totally started off in the sweetest fucking way. A 1-0 win against Paraguay.

Man that game rocked. I came on in the second half and straight away stamped my fucking dominance on the game. My translation skills were useful in not only talking to the ref (who had a basic grasp of American) but also to the Paraguayans who also had a limited grasp of both American and Canadian. Fucking sweet.

During the game I also made some sweet head passes and interceptions. Unfortunately I did not really get a chance to put some points on the board but maybe next fucking game.
We have Trinidad and Tobago coming up next. Bring it fucking on!

Oh yeah, and read this you effing doupters....

http://blogs.guardian.co.uk/worldcup06/2006/06/07/

hargreaves_is_a_victim_of_litt.html

(please copy the above and paste it dudes!)

That morning for my breakfast I had bananas. Man they tasted fucking good. They are great for energy and protein. Sol Campbell, Wayne Bridge and I all love Bananas so much.

Yum-fucking-mee.

Saving Fucking Money.

We all need to save for the fucking future. Especially me. Yeah I earn fuck loads as Ingerlands official team translator, and pocket a bit more playing soccer, but I still have to plan for retirement.

Im now going to share with you my Number 1 tip on saving money.

Mix cereals.

Yes, it really is as fucking easy as that. I know what your thinking, you are thinking that ‘this guy is a fucking cock-shandy’, but wait and listen.

Pick your favourite cereal. Coco-pops, Frosties, Golden Grahams etc. Then mix then with a cheap ass cereal, such as rice-krispies (supermarket own), weetabix (supermarket own) or cornflakes (supermarket own).

By mixing a cheap ass cereal with an expensive one you get the taste of the good shit while saving fuck loads of pennies.

Oh yeah!

Fucking happy as fuck.

And kids. Look what you can achieve just by eating regularly every morning. Look how fucking happy I am. And do you see who that is in the background. That’s right! Fucking Phil Fucking Nevillie. We often mix cereals together, and look where we both are, Ingerland regulars.

Oh yeah, and the World Cup starts today.

In Fucking Demand!

My services are all ready wanted by a host of premier-fucking-ship clubs, and I have yet to kick at ball at the world cup!

Read you story dudes…..

http://www.teamtalk.com/football/story/0,16368,2483_1265315,00.html

So what do you think I should fucking do? It is a fucking dilemma.

With the large amounts for foreigners in the Prem now, my services as a translator are much needed. As I have said before I can speak Canadian, German, Irish, and a little American. Along with Ingerlish of course.

This skill can be very useful to most Prem managers and of course don’t forget but I also can play football!

Me as a translator.

Bring it fucking on!

Six fucking nil. One fucking hatrick. Two fucking robot dances and one missed fucking penalty.

This game had it all man. Except a goal for the Jamaicans.

But in this blog entry I will not focus on any of that shit but instead tell you cocks about Frank Lampard the 2nd.

He is the fucking man, man.

Frank looking like the fucking man!

http://www.todayonline.com/articles/122044.asp

And do you know what else? I look fucking great in that photo. So suck on that you fuckers. And big thumbs up to my main man Frank Lampard the 2nd.


Here we are collecting awards.

I was there for moral support.

Friendlies Fuck Yeah!

Dudes!

Can you fucking believe that shit? Not only did I play in Ingerland’s 3-1 defeat of Hungary man, but also I totally rocked.

Sven told me afterwards, that considering I am the team’s official translator, I can’t half play a fucking good game of soccer.

I put my skills down to too things. My love for my country, Cana… I mean Ingerland and my total respect for my mom.

I’m now really looking forward to the Soccer World Fucking Cup. It should be totally fucking awesome!

We have one more friendly against the ‘Reggae Boys’, Jamaica, so I’m pretty much just focusing on that.

Here is what I had for breakfast. And no, its not a McMuffin, its my own specialmuffin meal. I call it a FuckMuffin as when your eating all you can think is 'Fuck this is good!!!!'

Fuck this is good!

Fucking Wake Up!

For fucks sake Owen wake the fuck up!!!

Sorry guys and gals, with all the fucking commotion last night with my meal with Nancy I forgot to post what I had for breakfast.

So today is going to be a breakfast fucking bonanza!

First up man, is the totally awesome breakfast that I had this morning and yesterday. Both days I had perhaps my favourite fucking breakfast cereal of all old-mother-fucking-hubbered time,



FROSTIES.

They are fuckin' Grrrr-eat!

And in the words of Tony ‘the fucking’ Tiger, ‘’They are fuckin’ GGGGGGrrrrrrrrrr-eat!’’

I love them so much that I originally got a ‘corn’ tattoo on my arm. SWEET! But I felt that this does not represent my love for Frosties but rather all fucking cereals!

Corn, Sweet

So I went out and got this sweet puppy on my ass!

Grrr-fucking-eat!

Nancy and Me...

I had to take Nancy out for Sven the other night. As a favour to him.

We went to a restarurent called Jackrabbitt Slims.

Here is what happened.


Buddy
Hi I'm Buddy, what can I get'cha?
Owen
I'll have the Douglas Sirk steak.
Buddy
How d'ya want it, burnt to a crisp, or bloody as hell?
Owen
Bloody as hell. And to drink, a vanilla coke.
Buddy
How 'bout you, Peggy Sue?
Nancy
I'll have the Durwood Kirby burger -- bloody -- and a five-dollar shake.
Buddy
How d'ya want that shake, Martin and Lewis, or Amos and Andy?
Nancy
Martin and Lewis.
Owen
Did you just order a five-dollar shake?
Nancy
Sure did.
Owen
A shake? Milk and ice cream?
Nancy
Uh-huh.
Owen
It costs five dollars?
Buddy
Yep.
Owen
You don't put bourbon in it or anything?
Buddy
Nope.
Owen
Just checking.



Nancy
Don't you hate that?
Owen
What?
Nancy
Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Owen
I don't know.
Nancy
That's when you know you found somebody special. When you can just shit the fuck up for a minute, and comfortably share silence.
Owen
I don't think we're there yet. But don't feel bad, we just met each other.
Nancy
Well I'll tell you what, I'll go to the bathroom and powder my nose, while you sit here and think of something to say.
Owen
I'll do that.
Nancy
Did ya think of something to say?
Owen
Actually, there's something I've wanted to ask you about, but you seem like a nice person, and I didn't want to offend you.
Nancy
Oooohhhh, this doesn't sound like mindless, boring, getting-to-know- you chit-chat. This sounds like you actually have something to say
Owen
Only if you promise not to get offended.
Nancy
You can't promise something like that. I have no idea what you're gonna ask. You could ask me what you're gonna ask me, and my natural response could be to be offended. Then, through no fault of my own, I woulda broken my promise.
Owen
Then let's just forget it.
Nancy
That is an impossibility. Trying to forget anything as intriguing as this would be an exercise in futility.
Owen
Is that a fact?

Nancy nods her head: "Yes."

Nancy
Besides, it's more exciting when you don't have permission.
Owen
What do you think about what happened to Urika?


From then on the conversation sort of died, I mean I don’t know fucking why? All the guys in the restrooms, as you guys call them 'the changing rooms', are always going on about Urika, Sven and Nancy and I don’t have a clue what’s going on!

Fuck 'em.

Fucking Doupters!

http://www.teamtalk.com/football/story/0,16368,2483_1234431,00.html

That is all I have to say.

Fucking Sweet!

Oh yeah, and this is a photo of my fucking breakfast. Soooooooooooo fucking sweet.