New Year, New Decade, New Jacko?
Posted by Jacko | Filed under ManChat
Hey guys. Haven’t been on here for a while as I’ve been away visiting family over Christmas, and since then I’ve been putting the final touches to the second volume of The Great Right Hope series, A Fistful of Rubbers, which is now with Zetta Brown, the editor for LL-Publications. Finally, it’s done with, and now I have time for some more blogging and let me start by saying Happy New Year.
Yes, folks, a new year and a new year decade. In April, I will say goodbye to my twenties, too, and say hello to my…erm…thirties, yes, that’s the one.
Shit.
I don’t want to really talk about that. Nope, I don’t want to talk about the future, it only brings old age, boredom, kids playing on your lawn and a life-changing increases in the price of ham, and possibly global warming and shit.
So, let’s look backwards, and let’s take a look at the decade we said goodbye to, the noughties. What happened in the noughties? We (England) lost at a lot of sporting events; terrorism reached sickening heights; Usain Bolt ran really, really fast; and the first ever film about bumming cowboys was released. I ain’t really much cop at history, and I can’t be bothered with researching owt, either, as that isn’t my style. To be honest, I can’t be arsed to talk about the past, as that’s in the past, and the future is the only thing that matters, right?
What I will say, is that on a particular supernatural day in the noughties I experienced, for the first and only time, what can only be classed as divination. Unfortunately, my foretelling wasn’t the kind that would ever bag me a lot of money, or any, for that matter. It would not put me in a position where I could make a difference to the world. My vision came to me when two girls danced and sang (technically questionable) their way on to my television screen. Those Transylvanian girls were cheeky little things, indeed, and they were indeed, The Cheeky Girls.
The cheeky girls hit our screens in 2002 when they auditioned for Popstars The Rivals, and from that came the song, The Cheeky Song (Touch My Bum), and even though in 2004, it was voted the worst pop record of all time in a Channel 4, it still got to number two in the UK charts. Number, f***ing two, can you believe that? This country. This f**ing country. To summarise, they’re mum writes their songs; in 2006 they filed for bankruptcy; and in 2007 they had tit jobs.
I was convinced my 2002 prediction would come true, and everything was building up to its ultimate fulfilment. Even up to the end of December 2009, I was convinced that I couldn’t be wrong. I told the world, my friends and loved ones, as a 22 year-old kid, that it was a guaranteed dead cert that one of the cheeky girls would become a porn star by the end of the decade.
And they didn’t!
So the title of this post was “A New Year, A New Decade, A New Jacko?” So is there going to be a new Jacko? Well, probably not; not unless I win the lottery, or someone gives me a multi-million quid book deal, but one thing I will say, is that I predict, that by the end of this decade, by midnight, December 31st 2019, one of the Cheeky Girls will be in porno, somewhere on the internet.
Mark my words.
Tags: A Fistful of Rubbers, divination, England, getting old, global warming and shit, Happy New Year, LL-Publications, mark jackman, Nostradamus, Popstars, porn, sport, The Cheeky Girls, The Great Right Hope, the price of ham, The Rivals, thirties, twenties, UK Charts, Usain Bolt, Zetta Brown
Competition Time! Ladies and Gentlemen, LET’S PLAY DDDDAAAARRTTTSSSSSS
Posted by Jacko | Filed under Albion Arras, Competition Time, ManChat, The Great British Pub
I am very conscious of the fact that my last two posts have had elongated words in the title, but come on guys, this is darts, or DAAARRTTTTS we are talking about, here.
In last week’s post, I told you all that I will be saving the British pub, and I am a man of my word. I told you about a local dart’s team, and how The Great Right Hope is planning to sponsor them, all true, I shit you not.
Look, it’s all here: http://mark-jackman.com/blog/2009/04/29/iiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-one/
Therefore, www.mark-jackman.com and www.ll-publications proudly present….
THE ALBION ARRAS
From left to right: Doylie, Matt, Jimmy, Al, Keith (Landlord), Big Ron and Graham. Player bios coming to the website soon.
The official launch party of the Arras was a bit late, but what a crackerjack it still turned out to be. The Arras played the Tap and Mallet, and, in dramatic fashion, the winner of this clash of titans was decided by the last leg, the beer leg, where the whole team plays down from 1001, winner-takes-all, shit-or-bust. The standard of darts was electrifying, which meant it all came down to Madhouse: both teams aiming at double-one, the epitome of accuracy. Between them, both teams managed to miss approximately thirty darts at the desired double until Ian Doyle of the Albion Arras, unleashed hell with a dart that actually went where he was aiming it. The Albion, Loughborough, England, erupted.
It was a fantastic evening. The Albion sells some wonderful beer, and the fans, as well as both teams, took advantage. The atmosphere… words cannot describe the intensity. Well, they probably could, but I don’t know many words. The emotions a man can experience after a night of ale, darts, uncomfortably hot chilli, pool, karaoke and all male company… wow. A picture speaks a thousand words.
Pubs will make you fell, breathe and live:
Passion
Euphoria
Irrational Anger
Constipation
Partial Nudity
Acceptable Manlove
Double-One Finishes
OK, so “acceptable manlove” isn’t an emotion, and nor are a few others, and double-one finishes are just a result of shit darts, but you get the point. One night of darts and a few sociable ales can take you on an emotional rollercoaster through a modern-day gladiatorial arena. I am not advocating binge-drinking here. True, one of the Albion Arras had downed six pints before the start of the match, but that was just to settle his nerves, so was technically a medical necessity
Support your local pub. You don’t have to drink, although it helps - still yet to find an activity that isn’t as fun without beer. That’s a good topic of conversation, actually. Can anyone think of anything that is more enjoyable to do sober (except shaving a ball sack, especially your own)?
Brainwave!
I have been planning to run a competition for a while, now.
CHALLENGE: Apart from shaving pubic areas, can anyone think of something that is more fun to do sober?
PRIZE: The funniest answer will win themselves a genuine set of GREAT RIGHT HOPE DART FLIGHTS! It doesn’t get much better than that! Note: I said funniest answer. Emergency surgery on your faithful dog is not funny, but best done sober. I just upset myself. A death of a dog is the only justification for male tears.
You have until Thursday the 14th, 6pm UK time to enter! Just pop your answer on the bottom of this post.
Back to the blog. So yeah, you don’t have to drink to enjoy darts, pool, etc. They are great social games, unless playing in a rough-arsed pub where every item used to play barsports also doubles up as an exceptionally versatile, violent weapon.
You are going to hear a lot more from me about how much fun pubs are and about the positive aspects of drinking. Together, we can save the British Pub. Calling out to the USA! How are pubs doing over there?
There will be a page devoted to the Albion Arras, on my website. I’ll let you know when it is up and running, so you can meet the team. Ladies, don’t you worry; there WILL be full frontal nudity. Anyone in the Loughborough area, the Albion Arras are at home to the Dew Drop next Thursday. Would be great to see you all there.
H’oway the Arras!
Tags: 180, Albion Arras, ale, CAMRA, Competition, dart slags, darts, dog death tragedy, England, Loughborough, mark jackman, Save the Pub, Steven Segal's Stinkbridge, The Great Right Hope
