Bless Rooney’s little foot!

THE English have the most charming of all national pastimes. Honestly, can you imagine anything better than swaggering to the pub, swigging beer, swearing at the screen, then getting your nose busted by anyone willing to throw a punch?

Getting your nose busted is an integral part of the fun. Till Wayne Rooney accidentally stepped on Ricardo Carvalho’s balls the other day (“Terribly sorry, old chap, but I do wish you wouldn’t leave them lying around”), everyone sprouted one. A busted nose, I mean, not balls, though I suspect some people have those too. Lads unfortunate enough not to have a found a willing partner to do the busting just stuck a band-aid on their noses. 

This was because it was disgraceful to walk around with an unbust nose. It was as bad as not displaying the English flag from some part of your person or property. Since the English flag is very much like the Red Cross one, and since everybody displayed it everywhere, it looked like the Red Cross had taken over England. Thank goodness the Queen’s got her country back now.

As I was saying, the English have a unique way of amusing themselves. I find this way quite amusing. But some people don’t. They call it ‘hooliganism’. Twits. This is not hooliganism, but an extremely creative form of recreation, which, due to its sophistication, is only appreciated by the highly intelligent. It is the only one I know that provides muscular, cardiovascular, larynxical and renal workout to the participant.

Wish the World Cup came around more often.

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