We fucked the hun Lenny 3 Watty 1
And we all bounced along to the green brigade
And the huns got raped 
In Lennys arcade.
Great fucking song and I don’t see what all the fuss is about.

Anyyyyyyyways on to match reporting and the usual visitations to our friends around the world.

There was the usual dignified sabre rattling in the lead up to this one plus the involvement of Nil by mouth in relation to Scott Browns abuse of Diouf. The latter dying the streak on his heid blue to try and win over the fuckwits. Shame the streak doon his back like that of his team mates, like Cagney would say is yella I tell ya. 

The huns began as they meant to go on with Papac playing an inch perfect ball to a burger vendor in Janefield street and Jelavic looking dangerous. Fuck all to do with the football though, he just looks like the bad guy in one of the die hard movies.
Wattie tried to emulate Lenys tactics from the cup encounter and tried to have a player sent off early on. IT failed miserably and fair play to Brines who told Bartley, naw son youre on for the duration, youre gonnae feel the fear and experience the pain, and shoved a yellow up his arse for good measure.

IT took the hoops longer to get hold of the match than it had in the last mauling, and the one before that, but only by about ten minutes.

A five pass move began with big Dan playing an immaculate pass back to big Fraz, he in turn played the ball to Izzy who set off on a rampaging run. His locks would have been flowing in the afternoon breeze had it not been for the brylcream. He sent a Federer like pass up the line to KFC who sent the ball into the lurking Hooper. Hoops showed a total disdain for care in the community sent his fiorst touch past the tired looking Weir and by the time he had turned the clocks had gone forward. So had Hoops. One touch to set himself and another to fire the ball through McGregors legs. If said keeper had a set of balls he might have saved it, as it was he didn’t and it was 1-0.

The Huns as expected responded by getting a shy. They also had Miller warming up on the sidelines. No wait scrub that they sold him didn’t they. It was just some fucking warmer wi a skinhead and a high visibility jaiket.

Brown got the nipple clamps out for Diouf, Kayal got his Ipad out and got onto google earth to see where the fuck Davis was, and Ledders was tweeting away keeping Bonnie Tyler up to date on the score. Up front Samaras and Hoops were the two best things on display since Kelly Brooke got her tits out, and Commons was electric.

Once could almost sense the build up in the home support, growing to something that the Hooperdome had not seen in a long time. Since the Hunskelping mythos was introduced to Timdom it had yet to be witnessed en masse. 52, 014 Hunskelpers giving it laldy. It got cranked up a notch ten minutes after the first one went in.

Izzy dispossessed some hun cunt near the halfway line and played in Sami. Sami was immense and the huns were in a mess as his slide rule pass of Pythagorean quality found Izzy. Once again he set off on a run. The Hondu ran and ran past anything blue and white, except Weir who was still fucked from a sneezing fit and was the last line of defence. Well Papac was there as well but he is shite as well as being one ugly bastard. Izzys cross was a thing of sheer beauty and evaded the entire hun defence. Just when the huns were banking on the ball going out for another shy to them Hooper came sliding in like a Fenian on a flume, one flick of his adidas shoosht and it was 2-0.

St Peters square Vatican City

Thousands of the faithful are gathered for a blessing from Benny. His first since he had his grin surgically removed from two weeks ago. A robed figure appears on the famous old balcony and a hush descends on the crowd. He holds his hands up Broony style and speaks.

Hello my fellow Kaffliks. 
Helloooooooo they all shout.
Pope Benny is a no feeling to good. He has a the gout. (Roughly translated means he is watching the fitba.) I am a cardinal Boruc, and his holiness in his infinite wisdom has asked me to convey a message to you on his behalf on this holy day. He pauses.

Do do do do do do do do do.

Meanwhile back at sunny sellic park its nearing half time and the huns have no answer to the hupes domination. Watties only hope is to get another two mib behind the goals European style in order to stifle the hupes attack but it is a forlorn hope. The half time whistle sounds and Lennys arcade is rawkin.

The half time paradise windfall draw is won by a mr Mince who refuses to give his personal details and threatens just about any cunt in shouting distance with a baseball bat. Odd.

Dark Mingwalls living room.

Dark is on a rant. He is unhappy that his diet isnae working. He is on the Atkin diet. Atkin eat that atkin eat that as well atkin eat any fuckin thing. He is still a flabby bastard.

I telt ye Senga I telt ye. I could see this coming and that stupid cunt Smith couldnae.
Darks mystic wife senga merely nods. Aye I know Dark am a mystic ye don’t need to reiterate tae me.
YE don’t understand wummin this is a fuckin assault on our proddy heritage.

Its only a fuckin gemme a fitba ferfuxake Dark.

Like fuck it is. Jist listen tae the cunts, listen tae whit theyre singin.

Its Depeche mode dark ye have wan of their cds.

Thats before I became enlightened.

Before ye became insane ya fuckin madman Darks mystic wife Senga mutters under her breath.

Its fuckin subliminal messaging. Cannae get enough? Cannae get enough communion wafers. Its fuckin obvious whit theyre oan aboot. Cannae get enough Papal visits. YE know that cuntin popes been here mair times than her majesty has in recent years?

Is Her majesty no sendin a delegation tae ibrox next month tho Dark?


Go compare Izzaguerre 
tae that geriatric bastard David Weir
He’s fuckin tragic and Izzys magic
And you’ll thank your stars for Emilo Izzaguerre.

The second half.

With the absolute fucking doing they had received in the first half it was expected that the huns would mount an all out assault on the hupes rearguard at the start of the second half and so they brought on Kenny Mil…… sorry I keep forgetting they selt the cunt. They brought on Kyle Lafferty when really if they were gonnae assault anything then they shoulda brought on Edu’s missus.

Diouf did get a sniff and tried to lob big fraz but big fraz is a big lad and telt diouf no to be so fuckin stupid and juggled the ball to prove the point. Jelavic then had a chance with a heider but she knocked him back for bein an ugly bastard. Even Glesgas wee hairys arenae easily impressed.

Samaras at the other end was running fucking riot and on this form is practically unplayable. A bit like yon Prodan the cunts had yonks ago. They couldnae play him either. I know different context an all that. Anyways big Sami tore his way through the entire hun defence like they were all Weirs and sent in a cross that McGregor palmed into the path of Broony. His header loked netbound until it hit aff papacs big ugly fucking heid. A heid that would gie Caldwells a run for its money. The huns were just shitting it big time by this stage.

Then on the 70th minute mark, Hooper fed the ball to Commons. Commons cut inside and hit a ball, a ball that was made from recycled stretch Armstrong figures and made a total cunt of the halfwit between the sticks. To make it 3-0 and to start a party at CP that has seldom been bettered. The thunder was back and back with a fucking bang.

The place was absolutely fucking rawking and it was an excercise in damage limitation for the huns. Out thought, outplayed and out something else, I cannae remember the word, but either way it was a joy to watch. A mass pardon the pun huddle, an impromptu lets all do the Broony that rivalled Queens radio gaga at live aid all got too much for the huns and they began to leave in their droves. 

The Hupes however were intent on rubbing it in and almost made it four when Ki hit a bender, no the thing ye see outside Bennets on a Friday night but one like what Commons had did earlier and the clownshoe managed to palm it away. In between this Nae smith went aff wi a hammy, Diouf went aff coz he was shite and wi Lafferty on it was just a fucking hoot and a game the hupes were sorry to see finnish.

All in all a good days work and another nail in the Lenny cannae win big games coffin. Its hard to see where the huns are gonnae get something fae although even Mons great side had one or two slip ups against an inferior side. I would expect them to sneak one of the cup games but thats insignificant. The real deal is the title and I’ll settle for that.

Glasgow Royal infirmary

Dr Kildare came in and threw his stethoscope on the chair, very roughly.
Whits wrang doactor said Nurse Ratchet are ye awright?
Naw the Sellics went and pumped them 3 fuckin 0.
Ah thought ye were a tim and wid be happy said Marcus Welby md.
Look said dr Kildare. Its a fuckin Sunday, the worst thing that normally happens is some cunt gets a communion wafer lodged in their throat or some fanny takes a heidy aff their trampoline. Noo Im gonnae be inundated wi wimmin wi broken bones and cuts. FUCK. Right Im away tae the burns unit.
Has there been a fire? Enquired nurse ratchet.
Naw the Tommy Burns unit. Its a wee chapel. Im gonnae get some peace n quiet afore the mayhem starts.


Fraz. Must be thinking when the fuck he is gonnae have to make a save from these cunts. His biggest problem is boredom.

Izzy. The plaudits just keep coming. Him and Commons are an unstoppable force.

Dan. Superb game and was never troubled once. Even when Miller………. ah fuck see ma memory.

Chas. Mulgrew into his role and looks as accomplished a defender as Santana was at the Alamo.
Wilson. Solid defensive display but a bit erratic with his distribution. Cannae complain tho on a day with a clean sheet.

Broony. Once again fitting right into the captains role. To think some cunts thought he had a slight leaning towards those monkey bastards.

Ledders. Once again nothing flash but as effective as fuck. Love to see him scoring.

Kayal For once the term Hunskelper seems inadequate. A fucking mean machine.

Commons. An outrageous bit of business by the board. Reid and Lawell must have pictures of the Derby chairman with his cock up a chicken.

Samaras. Give the cunt another contract. The huns secret weapon against us is the mib. They don’t have an answer to the big Greek.

Hooper. Larsson reincarnated. The Scunthorpian talisman is well on his way to legendary status.

Stokes. Wound up the rapist so he gets pass marks for that alone.

Forrest. Good to see the wee man back fiot again.

Ki a great sub to bring off the bench. 

Lafferty superb performance in nullifying the huns attack. 

My mate and I were told the following story in a pub one night and I have no reason to disbelieve the guy who related it to us. He said he used to play for Airdrie, (cant recall the name) and this is his tale.

I used to fancy myself as a bit of hard bastard on the pitch. We were playing Celtic at Broomfield and I decided to make my mark and put Johnstone over the hoardings early on. McNEil comes over and says “Leave the wee man alone.” Naturally I was having none of it and went through the wee man again. Again Mcneil comes over and says, “touch him once more and Berties gonnae sort you out.” I did touch him again and was informed by McNeil that Bertie was going to break my leg. Ive never really known fear in my life, especially on a football pitch. But I did when I heard Bertie Auld coming up behind me when I was on the ball and say to me, “here it’s coming.” Bertie Auld broke my leg and didnt even get booked for it.

Walter. Here its coming. Rollin thunder.

Hail Hail.