All right, mates? You had a heck of a week, eh? I can sympathise - because I have had an even WORSE week than that! Your mate Craig has had one ruddy HECK of a flippin' week! What? Oh, yeah! Don't get me started. Absolute heck of a week, me! If you don't believe me, just take a look at me diary:
SUNDAY: Spent today at the Bellamy family home at Splott in good old Wales! Everyone was up early, getting the meat ready. Me Uncle Aled, me Auntie Mavis, me cousin Ivor, me other cousin Bryon, me other cousin Shirley and, of course, me Mam and me Dad, me big brother Paul, me kid brother Matty and ‘she who must be obeyed,’ the missus – we were all bustling about, like, sorting out the spuds, the pudding and the gravy granules and such-like. I supervised the actual cooking of the meat, of course, and it turned out, if I do say so myself, absolutely superb. In the afternoon I played indoor bowls, first against me Dad and then against me Uncle Aled. Some of the decisions were, to be frank, absolutely outrageous, but I bit me tongue and put up with it all – even when Aled kept on whistling and shouting, ‘Offside!’ (He thinks he’s a ‘card,’ does Uncle Aled. He isn’t. He’s actually a bit of a berk, but his heart’s in the right place.) At teatime I cooked one of me specials: ‘Craig’s Salmon Surprise’. It’s roast meat shaped to look like a salmon. Trust me, it’s flippin’ historic. Everyone had second helpings and then rubbed their tummies and had a good old natter. Me Mam put on a Tom Jones CD and the missus and me had a proper dance around the living room. ‘You’ve got luvly little legs,’ said me Mam, and, I have to admit, she’s quite right. I was a great little mover, me, like a Welsh Fred Astaire, until I caught me flippin’ knee on a flamin’ chair and had to hop off for emergency treatment. Absolute flamin’ agony I was in for a while. I think it was probably me Uncle Aled who was to blame - he's always been careless when it comes to furniture. Watched a bit of telly later on – me Mam wanted Heartbeat, so that’s what she got, of course. Not my cup of tea, to be absolutely honest, but it’s only right that me Mam watches what me Mam wants to watch. I mean, flippin’ heck, she’s me Mam! I sat there with a cold compress on me knee, and the missus got me a glass of Bailey’s, so I was soon quite drowsy. Went to bed feeling quite mellow, for me.
MONDAY: Suited and booted. Looking top flippin’ class. The dog’s doo-dahs. Why? Flippin’ court again in Cardiff, that’s why. You have to look the part, even though you might be in a right old mood. And I definitely was in a right old mood: ‘Day Three in the Big Brother House, and Craig is feeling down…’ So flamin’ tense it wasn’t true. What happened? Nowhere near as much as I’d hoped, thanks to the incompetence of me sole agent and manager Drystan, who failed to flippin’ well turn up with that mobile phone I’d sent him to find (there’s supposed to be a picture on there that shows me being flippin’ flamin’ happy-slapped by that flamin’ flippin’ blonde-haired banshee). After what seemed like a flippin’ AGE, during which time his flamin’ name was called out all over the place and the Judge glowered at me like it was MY flippin’ fault, the news came back that Drystan had started to feel a bit funny and had ‘had a turn’ while exiting a dual carriageway just outside Cardiff and was now ‘recuperating’ at a nearby Little Chef. I was flippin’ FURIOUS! I’m sitting here facing flippin’ incarceration and me sole agent and manager is eating TOAST in a Little Chef!!! ‘Mr Bellamy,’ said the Judge, ‘do you have any other…â€characters†to call?’ Flippin’ sarky old twit! ‘Yes, m’lud, ma’am, sir,’ I said, all defiant, like. ‘I would like to call…Dai Daffyd!!!’ This was me flippin’ trump card, this was. Dai Daffyd is pretty much the Jack Bauer of Splott! A right flippin’ spy and all round investigator, this lad. He dealt with a little dispute I'd had four years ago with Robbie Savage over some 'missing' meat, and was very, very impressive. So this time I’d asked him to do his spying stuff and come up with some cracking evidence, just like on that 24 programme. Ba-boom, Ba-boom, Ba-boom: Bauer enters, bleeding like billy-ho, clutching a flippin microchip! Actually, as it happened, Dai came in with a picture he’d just had developed at his local Snappy Snaps, but it flippin’ well did the trick: it showed your mate Craig having his face rearranged by that mad lass whose boobs blew up some time later. I could see the Judge was stunned. ‘How extraordinary,’ he gasped. ‘It is at eye level. Was this taken by some kind of midget?’ Everyone went off looking quite shaken.
TUESDAY: Back in flippin’ court. Me barrister, John Charles (good names, eh?) Rees asked me about ‘what had occurred’. I could not flippin’ believe me flamin’ ears! I whispered to him, ‘Have you gone flippin’ doo-lally??? I TOLD you what happened. I told you when I flippin’ HIRED you! What sort of flippin’ memory have you got, man??’ Then the Judge got involved: ‘Mr Bellamy! Please stop whispering! And stop tip-toeing on that crate – you will fall over the front of the witness box and do yourself a mischief! Now please stand up straight and answer the questions - LOUDLY!’ I was getting into a right flamin’ mood, me. ‘Sorry, your Lordship, Ma’am, but I only flippin’ told him all of this a few days ago…’ The Judge was really losing it: ‘MR BELLAMY! I will not warn you again! Answer the questions!’ What a flippin’ nutter! Anyway, I had no choice but to tell this TWIT of a barrister what he already flippin’ well knew. Then he said, ‘And what did this young woman do at the end of that?’ I gave out a huge sigh. ‘As you well know, and have seen in that Snappy Snaps snap, she went and slapped me in the flippin’ flamin’ FACE!!!’ Then this absolute idiot looked at me and asked me if I’d been ‘expecting’ it!!! I kid you flippin’ not! He said, ‘Were you in any way expecting such an action?’ Oh my sweet Barry John! I shouted: ‘NO!! NO, I DID NOT – “in any way†- EXPECT TO BE FLIPPIN’ WELL SLAPPED IN THE FLIPPIN’ FLAMIN’ FLIPPIN’ FACE!!!!’ So I was standing there, right, arms outstretched, incredulous grin on me face, saying, ‘Oi! OI!!!! JUDGE!!!!’ I mean, what a load of absolute CONKERS!! Anyway, I fell over the front of the flippin’ witness box while I was trying to make me point. ‘I told you so, Mr Bellamy!’ That flamin’ flippin’ smart aleck Judge! That did me knee no favours at all, that fall. Really agitated back at home. Couldn’t even concentrate on Deal Or No Deal. Went straight to bed, tossing and turning, thinking, ‘Flippin’ HECK!’ The case should have been over by now!
WEDNESDAY: FLIPPIN’ HECK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Have you seen that bit in that Woody Allen movie Hannah and her Sisters when he gets a good diagnosis and runs down the street jumpin’ up and down? Well, that was flippin’ me today! FLIPPIN’ HECK! I’M FREE, ME!!!!!!! Case dismissed! Get in!!! Get flippin’ in!!!! Oh yes! Back of the flippin’ net!!!! Rock on flippin’ flamin’ Tommy!!!!! Your little mate Craig is a flippin’ FREE MAN!!!! Oh YES!!! We – me Mam, me Dad, me Missus, all of the family and all of me legal lads, ‘Team Bellamy’ - celebrated in the House of Meat – an ultra-exclusive diners’ club in Cardiff. Absolutely superb meal! I tell you, not one person left the place with their flippin’ kecks done up at the waist! Oh my giddy aunt! I was stuffed! Stuffed but very, very, happy! Imagine Nelson Mandela, right, but white, and in Cardiff, and with a slightly shorter neck. That’s me, that is! Oh yes! FLIPPIN’ HECK!!!!! The lads played at night against Portsmouth. Toothless without yours truly, of course. I'm sure the fans can't wait for me to come back!
THURSDAY: Woke up still thinking about that meat. My god it was flippin’ fantastic. I’d dribbled, to be honest, on me pillow during me sleep. The dreams. Oh my giddy aunt! I could SMELL that flippin’ meat! Then the congratulations started coming in. Got a call from that flippin idiot Barry Scott: ‘HELLO! IT’S COUSIN BARRY! BARRY SCOTT!!!!’ I held the phone a safe distance from me flippin’ ear. ‘WELL DONE ON THE COURT CASE, CRAIG!’ I took a deep breath: ‘Thanks for that, Barry. I guess you were too busy to get in contact before, eh?’ ‘YES! I WAS IN COLOGNE. AT THE INTERNATIONAL DETERGENT, DEGREASER & DETERGENT/DEGREASER-RELATED PRODUCTS IDEAL HOME EXHIBITION 2006!!! IT WENT REALLY WELL! MY PENNY TRICK-’ I sighed. ‘It’s not actually a “trick,†now is it, Barry? It’s a-’ ‘AND I HEARD THE NEWS OF YOUR CASE!!! WELL DONE, MATE!! I’LL BE ROUND TO CELEBRATE NEXT TIME I’M IN THE UK!!!!’ Click-Brrrrrrr Yes, thanks for that, Barry. Another call came in: ‘Is that Craig Bellamy?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘The controversial footballer?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘The vice-captain of Wales?’ ‘Yeah’ ‘Oh. Right. Well, then: You’re a piggin’ lucky devil, you are, you piggin’ munchkin!!!! And the next time you see that piggin’ idiot Toshack, you-’ Click-Brrrrrrr I put the phone down. Flippin’ Robbie flamin’ Savage! Nothin worse than a flippin’ gaylord with bad flippin’ hair trying to spoil your day of triumph! Then me sole agent and manager Drystan was next to call: ‘Oh, thanks, Drystan, mate,’ I said, all sarcastic like. ‘Very nice of you to get up out of your sick bed at the Little Chef and pick up the flippin’ phone!’ Actually, he was very apologetic: ‘Craig, son, I know I let you down with that funny turn I had, but, believe me, Craig, boy, you don’t want these hips, you really, really, don’t! I am in constant agony, boy! Constant, it is! Anyway, boy, you should be thanking me, because you are now hot property, boy! I’ve renegotiated your “Face of Mini Peperami†contract – you’ll now be getting an extra £10 per year, plus more money off vouchers! – and I have also received an assurance from Argos that the Craig Bellamy Steak Knife Collection, when it arrives, will be given a page of its own in the Summer 2007 catalogue!!’ I put the phone down. I was too choked up to talk. That man…that man…is one in a flippin’ million! Felt a real tool for moaning about him. Then the missus came in, with what appeared to be half of the contents of the Liverpool branch of Wallis!!!! Dresses, cardies, hats, scarves, skirts, blouses, shoes, pash-thingummybobs, tights, more dresses – I’d never seen so many flippin’ bags and boxes! What the flippin’ HECK does any woman need with THAT load of flippin’…NONSENSE?????? ‘Hey, luvver,’ she says, ‘I had to celebrate, and, by the way - I remembered the meat!’ I thought to meself: ‘Wonders will never flippin’ cease!’ I didn't say it out loud, though. I might've got a slap.
FRIDAY: Feet up, TV Quick on me lap, remote control in me top pocket, cuppa tea by me side…flippin’ superb. The gaffer had said, ‘Craig, we have an important game next Tuesday, so you will play on Saturday – make sure you relax’. So that, me dear mates, is what I, your mate Craig, is flippin’ well going to do. Oh yes. I was reading about EastEnders today, and, for once, I quite liked what I heard: apparently, someone or other has cooked some meat inside some more meat which, in turn, is inside some more meat. That got the old Bellamy brain buzzing! Let’s just say that I think Christmas dinner in the Bellamy household this year is going to be even more interesting than usual… Anyway, watched quite a bit of telly: This Morning: a right dog’s dinner of a show today (women with unusually large big toes, blokes with sore doo-dahs, a woman with a nipple that has a nervous twitch, some Gaylord who dressed up some model to look like something out of flippin’ Ipswich, Fern going on about some unbelievably boring cycle trip and Philip Schofield waffling about that jungle show, which I’m no longer watching since those flippin’ IDIOTS voted off David Gest, who was the only one worth flamin’ watching!). Then on to Dickinson’s Real Deal – which was just as awful as the last time I saw it. I actually sat there and wrote another angry letter to that twerp Dickinson and then remembered I’d already used that pun (‘Dickinson’s Real Bore’) last time. Really irritated. Spent ages trying to think of something else – the place ended up full of screwed-up bits of paper – but in the end I just decided to rise above the whole thing. It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t matter. Then the missus cooked me some meat, which was very nice of her; I had to put it back in the oven for ten more minutes – these women, bless ‘em, they just don’t know how to cook anything more substantial than flippin’ courgettes – but it was very nice of her all the same.
SATURDAY: Match day: Wigan away. FLIPPIN’ HECK!!!!! I said the the Gaffer: ‘I feel up for it today, Gaffer!’ He said, ‘Don’t get caught offside, Craig’. You see? No need for detailed instructions. He knows he’s got a little gem playing for him! So then the match started, and so did the flippin’ Bellamy magic! Bang! Goal for your mate Craig!! Bang!! Another goal for your mate Craig!! Whizz-Bang!!! An assist for your flippin’ BRILLIANT mate Craig!!!!! Add an own goal and we’re four-nil up at half-flippin’-time! Yes, I did get accused of being offside, a few times, completely wrongly, and, yes, I did get booked, completely wrongly, but that was purely to do with jealousy. I was flippin’ FANTASTIC! Got back home at about seven and found that some flippin’ idiot had scratched me flippin’ car! If I find out it was that paper boy I’ll flippin’ chin him! Anyway, the missus had the meat cooked (well, cooking), and I opened a bottle of sparkling wine and we had a good old evening in front of the telly. Stayed up to watch meself on Match of the Day, but it was so long before our game came on I’d flippin’ well dozed off! Woke up halfway through some rubbish called The Eyes of Laura Mars – absolute CONKERS! I got up and stood in front of the telly, arms outstretched, incredulous grin on me face, and shouted: ‘Oi! OI!! Telly!!!!’ What a HECK of a week!
