All right, mates? How am I? Don’t ask! What a flippin’ HELL of a week your little mate Craig’s just had! What? Beyond flippin’ belief! Don’t take my word for it, mind. Oh no. Just have a butchers at these excerpts from me diary:
SUNDAY: ‘Get up, get on up! Get UP, get on UP! Stay on the scene! Get on UP! Like a flippin’ sex ma-chine!’ Yep, you guessed it: your mate Craig got some action last night. Oh yes. The missus was very much ‘in the mood’. Very, very, much in the mood, she was. That’s the second time since July! Flippin’ fantastic, it was. I think it was me scarlet-coloured silk dressing gown with the Welsh dragons on it that did it. If I do say so myself, I looked flippin’ gorgeous! I smelt flippin’ superb, too, cos I’d practically soaked meself in Old Spice (which was a bit of a mistake, actually, cos it flippin’ stings here and there!). The ironic thing was, though – I tweaked me calf muscle! So flippin’ angry. Cooked a bit of meat while Antiques Roadshow was on – a substandard episode, this week, if I’m being honest – and really tucked in. I thought to meself, ‘Craig, sir, you need some TLC…and some more MEAT!’ So I pigged out a bit, I have to admit, but it was absolutely cracking meat. Must get some more from Morrison’s – the bloke there really knows his cuts. Went to bed early, with only mild indigestion brought on by that glass of Malibu the missus gave me.
MONDAY: I’m flippin’ so bored, me. I just train and then sit about in front of the telly. The missus brought in this ‘Pilates’ dvd. I said to her, ‘You’ve been done, there’. She said, ‘Why, luvver?’ I said, ‘I think you’ll find that it’s supposed to be Pirates of the Caribbean, not Pilates of the Caribbean’. She said, ‘I knew it, I knew it!’ SLAM! and ran off crying. Actually, I went ahead watched it and I have to say it was a shocker! Nothing at all like the real thing. Apparently, these pirates – all women, thank you very much – were on a long voyage, and they just sat about, basically, on MATS, waiting for the island to turn up. Occasionally, one of the women waved a leg and let one go, which I felt was a bit crude as well as pointless. The acting was ATROCIOUS! That’s what comes from doing your DVD shopping from that bloke near the Heritage flippin’ Market instead of Blockbuster. Anyway, I went off to do a bit of shopping meself – got the missus five different types of that bacteria-friendly wotnot just so she can’t complain, some meat and the new Tony Bennett CD, and got back just in time for Deal Or No Deal. Put the Tony Bennett CD on later…and it was flippin’ Tony Christie! Flippin’ cowboys! It was scratched as well! Flippin’ furious, I was. Really fed up.
TUESDAY: Liverpool v Bordeaux at Anfield. Another big European night. Very good performance: a great goal from little Luis Garcia (quite ‘Bellamyesque,’ dare I say!), then a smasher from Stevie (quite ‘Bellamyesque,’ dare I say!), followed by a second from good old Luis (quite ‘Bellamyesque,’ dare I say!). Smashing! My enjoyment was spoiled a bit by the fact that a flippin’ GIANT was sat right in front of me, so I had to stand on the seat and keep jumping up and down – hence those flippin’ stupid ‘Will supporters please remain seated’ announcements. I sometimes think I’m surrounded by IDIOTS! Next time I see that TOOL Sephton I'll give him a flippin' slap! Saw the Gaffer afterwards: ‘Well done, Boss,’ I said. ‘And just think: you’ll soon be back to full strength!’ He smiled and said. ‘Please remain seated’. His English is getting much better - he picks up these phrases, even though he doesn't quite seem to know what they mean yet. Went out and found some flippin’ Italian idiot had scratched me car! Flippin’ foreigners! Oh well, I suppose that means the paint pots will have to come out again, so there's always a silver lining.
WEDNESDAY: Got interviewed by someone from SkySports News today. I suppose the main reason most of us players so like being interviewed by people from SkySports News is that they are so intelligent: they ask you really sensible, relevant questions, like, ‘You lost – are you disappointed?’ or ‘You won – are you pleased?’ or ‘You’re injured – is that frustrating?’ BBC: please take note!! Anyway, this time they were just asking me if I knew where Daniel Agger was. I didn’t, as it happened, so that was pretty uneventful as interviews go. I doubt they’ll use it, actually, but I called the missus to turn on a four hour video, just in case. Of course, what I should also have told her was to keep the TV on Sky flippin’ Sports flamin’ News, cos when I got back there was nothing but Fern and that Schofield geezer and then that flippin’ awful Loose Women programme! Oh well. It was good to be back with the squad. The Gaffer took us on a team-bonding doo-dah in the afternoon – go-karting! What absolute conkers! It was good enough fun till some idiot starting blowing a whistle every time I drove past. In the end I stopped the kart and shouted to him, ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, mate, but there’s no offside in go-karting!’ This absolute flippin' plonker said: ‘No, sonny, I know that – I was whistling because this is an adults only circuit – the boys’ "fun" circuit is out the back’. Stupid flippin’ IDIOT! Then, to add insult to injury, Paco said I’d made an illegal stop and had been flippin’ flamin’ disqualified! I got out the kart, threw me helmet off, and just stood there, arms outstretched, incredulous grin on me face, saying, ‘Oi! OI!!! REF!!!!’
THURSDAY: Knock-Knock ‘Hello, who’s there?’ ‘The Invisible Man’. ‘Oh aye? Come in, mate!’ ‘Do you know someone’s been painting over your door bell?’ ‘Ha-ha, you’re only the hundredth person to make that observation’. ‘Yes, but the bell-‘ ‘Look: LEAVE IT! Now, go back to the “knock-knock†routine’. ‘Okay’. Knock-Knock ‘Yes?’ ‘It’s the Invisible Man’. ‘I can see that – come in, mate’. ‘Can me friend Craig come in, too?’ ‘Who?’ ‘Craig. Craig Bellamy. The controversial footballer’. ‘Duh?’ ‘The acting captain of Wales’. ‘Er…’ 'Craig BELLAMY - the new Face of Mini Peperamis for the north-west UK market!' 'Ah, um...' ‘Come ON!’ ‘Um…’ ‘It’s CRAIG!!!!!’ ‘Where is he?’ ‘Here’. ‘I can’t see him’. ‘Look down’. ‘Nope, still can’t see him’. ‘I’m HERE!!!’ A joke? To you, maybe, but not to flippin’ flamin’ me! I’M the flippin’ Invisible flippin’ Man these days! That’s flippin’ par for the course for your mate Craig nowadays! I’ve not played for so flippin’ long the ball’s probably changed flippin’ SHAPE! So frustrated. I think even that paperboy, LOL, has forgotten I flippin’ exist. Puts me in a right old mood, it does. I even caught meself writing in to the flippin’ Paul O’Grady Show to ask for a flippin’ Nodding Buster! How sad is THAT? I do hope I get one though. It’d look good on top of the telly.
FRIDAY: I’m so flippin,’ flamin’ BORED, me! I decided to take the living room door off its hinges, just to see how it worked, cos I’m flippin’ curious, me. Of course, it only flippin’ fell straight on top of me, didn’t it! Serves me right, I suppose, for buying that ‘double-thick Captain’s Chamber oak door’ from Argos last summer. The missus comes in: ‘Craig? Luvver? The door’s fallen down! Luvver!! The door! It’s on the floor. Er, Craig? Luvver?’ She was flippin’ standing on the flippin’ flamin’ door, which was on me! I could hardly flippin’ BREATHE! She ended up getting Dirk Kuyt from next door in. ‘I have no eaten the meat, I beg you to believe me!!’ ‘No, no, Dirk, you can eat meat whenever you like’. ‘I cannot!’ ‘Your wife isn’t here, I promise!’ ‘Oh, thank God!! Then I will take you up on-‘ ‘Look, Dirk, before you get stuck in – the door has fallen off’. ‘Oh, I pick up!’ Thank flippin’ God for THAT! ‘Oh, Craig, you under door! With screwdriver! Why you do this?’ ‘Dirk, mate,’ I said, trying to sound calm, ‘IT’S NONE OF YOUR FLIPPIN’ BUSINESS!!!!’ ‘But, er, I can still eat meat?’ ‘Yes, yes, get on with it!’ I was so flippin’ FED UP!
SATURDAY: Still so flippin’ bored. The paperboy tore me copy of the Daily Express when he shoved it through the letter box. Idiot. Played the Tony Christie CD - which I have to admit has grown on me. Trouble is, as it's scratched, it keeps getting stuck halfway through 'Show Me The Way To Amarillo'. The missus went past and said: 'He's never going to get there at this rate!' I tried to rise above it: 'Don't let your Yakult get cold, there's a dear' Flippin' women! Went off to Anfield. Watched the match – a bit workmanlike, in my humble opinion, but a good result. Nice to see Dirk knocking in the goals now that he’s eating properly. Yet another public address announcement about not letting the kids jump up and down on their seats. I sympathised with them, because I was behind this fella who must have been at least 5 foot 8! And he had a cap on! So of course I was up and down like a flippin’ yo-yo, me! I was exhausted afterwards. Went home, had a shower and then got me silk dressing gown on. ‘Not tonight, luvver,’ the missus said. ‘It’s Strictly Come Dancing’. ‘Oh yeah?’ I said. ‘Well, I’m strictly fed up, me!’ What a flippin’ HECK of a week!
