Bohemian XI

Scouse legend.

I'll never let you forget how I dragged the worst ever team in Korea to a hat trick of league wins on the bounce plus a pair of cups as player manager of DMZ. Then there was me and Scouse as ye like spending that autumn keeping the nurses at the Royal Hospital busy with a steady influx of battered and broken students. Then I bounced back from a career threatening medial knee ligament injury to get the big move to Spain where I was supposed to end my career but instead introduced the thigh high slidey and off the ball fod to the young stars of the Sevillan futsall league. And now Im back.

Tonight.

To make my debut on Bohemian soil.

I'll peg my splaig about 5 minutes before kick off to deliver my team talk and to tell the lads in the jarg clobber and stainey trabs that they are dropped.

Then I'll lead the troops out.

I'll probably play up front for the first 10 minutes to give us a comfortable 6 or 7 goal lead. Then I'll drop back, sweep up and send tha fod in on any sap who tries to go past me. There may even be an opportunity to try the famous Scouse as ye like shoulder barge out of play complete with the sincere 'oof!' soundtrack.

Its fairly warm out there this evening so I'll be sure to refuel liberaly on the Gambrinus post match as I try to shush the lads down as they continually chat on about how boss the triple hat trick I slotted was.

The vegan boots are raring to go and the 2 stripe blag Gerrard shirt is gonna get a top work out.

Bohemian nights

Another dose of C21 adlib real life pooetry for yez all to suck off, swallow and thank me for.

Last night some Czicha gave me the call to head accross town to some lil' old theatre. This was indeed a bit of a historical theatre as it was the first theatre to open in the town following the velvet revolution.

I slid over there pronto. Had a toke with a few moody looking locals on the threshold before barging my way in for the tune-age.

The band were a buzz. They were Frogs. And despite the fact that I heard the slimey singer tell someone that 'grass is the future of humanity' in the bar later on, I was having der staves.

They were a 5 piece; stand up bass, clarinet, violin, guitar and drums. They knocked out a load of floaty space jazz shit, in the vein of early Hawkwind or the few good bits from 'Shamal' by Gong, and interspersed this with trad folk from the Balkans. Youz know that fast-slow-fast-faster-slow jumpy shiz.

It was good enough for me for a Tuesday night out.

Then I jogged home with one of Europes finest all round female athletes.

Read all about it

Another a.m.

Waking to a front page spread and see inside for 8 more pages of photos and scandal starring L'hipster U. all over the gossip sheets of Bohemia.

Scouse tales of plastic boobs and slapperazi pursuits. Nightclub brawls and flaming beamers. Midnight 'ave offs and heroics.

Youz know me.

Write it yezselves.

Colonials

When I hear a white SouthAfreecan accent I reach for my stash of car tyres, petrol and a lighter.

So bad news for all fresh air lovers that a couple of 'em have rocked into the midst of my cabaret.

Well they can wait in the wings all they like 'cos my set aint breaking for an interval. And before they start blacking up and taking the piss they ought to know that Im banging the chorus line.

Yes.

All of it.

Suck on Satans raddish

I was just watching a docu on the heavy metal band called Iron Maiden. Yeah they are still hauling their sad, saggy arses around the world.

Warlocks, I aint seen a worse looking band since F+. Get me?

Spinal Tap was dead funny like but these beauts brought it all back to me. Bad, long dry hair. The 'massive trabs/shit jeans/black T shirt' combo. No shit white witches, they even have 3 guitarists.

No fuckin' need.

I think its the bassist, the one with the podgy-face n perma-smile; talk about a simpleton, I'd love to grab him by the wig and fling him head long into his stack of Marshalls.

And then there's the singer. Bruce Dickheadinson. Spell casters, that posh whopper is a walking joke. A living steriotype. Tell youz what. If I was in a band, being dead boss doing loads of Momo Sissoko, fucking like a rabbit and bringing down governments there's no way I'd be having the singer warbling like this tit does.

Close yer eyes and it could be some fat Moma from Milano.

I was close to calling out for a pizza.

So anyway, hes arsing around on the stage in a fucking ooohhhh scary mask, deafening heads with his inane shrieking, then no shit on dis...you next see him in the cockpit of the Iron Maiden jumbo jet and he's dressed in full captains uniform.

Squadron Leader Arse Wipe.

Heavy Metal has always been jarg. Its very possibly played and enjoyed by more bellend geeks n nerds than the so called DJ scene.

And if you wanna throw on some studded wrist bands, massive black boots, get a tattoo of a snake on yer arm and come over to try and scare me with yer ferocious acne problem then heres me address....

Bofuckinhemia.

See ye der. Just don't bring yer big fat girlfriend.

The hump

Rock Against Everything tickets now on sale. 50 sheets a pop or 3 for 10 score.

Some Czicha took me to some booooozah last night to try the new beer from Prazdroj (Urquell). Its called Master. I think they're gonna start exporting it so get yer mitts on a crate or two. Dem suds are the lick. Its a strong one doh, so if yer a shandy drinking southern poofter ye'd best steer clear. Dis is no session gargle.

The boooooozah was called 'Camel'. Who remembers dat shit joint in PNU of the same name?

Lets get dis straight.

If I wanna sit in a comfy chair at a round table, surrounded by badly dressed fat bellends whilst being ear tortured with soft rock and U2 then I'd go to Canada.

I've never been to Canada and have no intention of ever doing so.

Lets get dat straight.

Remember when I was in Sevilla. Some beaut from Canada arrived and started going on to me and my Spic amigos about how great him and his country were.

Youz know the coup.

The cunt must have wished he'd packed an ice hockey helmet into his maple leaf badged rucksack.

Anyway its Friday. Who wants a go?

Bo ho me

No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones.

Je hezky den v cechy. Sviti slunce, je modre nebe, je horko. (Ders no accents n curly bits on dis keyboard).

Get me?

On this.

The more I look for Bohemia the harder it is to find. The only way you can translate Bohemia into Czech is with the word Cechy (curly bit over the front c) and that just means Czech Republic. But the Czech Rep consists of 5 regions. N,S and W Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia.

The common usage of the word 'Bohemia' originates from Paris. When a mass of people (who were knackers of some sort) travelled from E. Europe to France where they spent their time partying, playing music and staying up late. Because they were allowed, by the King of Bohemia, to pass through the region of Bohemia on their way, they were thus refered to as Bohemians by the Frogs who were shocked at their carefree lifestyle.

Its funny talking to some of my students about the notion of a Bohemia of artists, drop outs n piss hounds. They readily admit that they had never met a Bohemian of this nature.

Till I rocked into town.