- It’s about 10 weeks until summer officially starts and Sporting’s Grimi Damian reminds us that even sunscreen application is essential for protecting skin from harmful rays and avoiding public embarrassment.
- For the record, we have come to terms with the whole Frank Lampard/Christine Bleakley thing. Does this mean we are embracing Bleakers as Frankie’s lady? Mmm… kinda. Ish. Either way, we’re still irritated by the Daily Mail implying that the couple’s meal after Chelsea’s 1-0 EPL win over Bolton Wanderers last night was somehow spoiled by the presence of Christine’s mum. Did mother-in-law gags not phase out at the same time as working men’s clubs and comb-overs? Well, they should’ve.
- Meanwhile, a sneak preview of Chelsea’s new kit has become available. A+for the snug fit, but why have the players been forced to pose as Subbuteo players? Was it the same reason Nando was forced to pose as a lady in Liverpool’s new kit pics? We smell conspiracy theory.
- The Spoiler have moved slightly away from their hairy campaign and reverted to cutie pie pictures of ballers. However. The first thing we thought was how weird it was to see Wayne Rooney. With hair. That he didn’t draw himself.
- Here’s David Beckham in the 1990’s. Sigh. Those WAATP boys always know how to take care of us.
- Elen is back! After her Tesco’s undie shoots failed to woo Frank, Ms. Rives has stepped up her game and will be appearing on ITV’s, Marco’s Kitchen Burnout. Other Z-list contestants include fellow failed-WAG Nancy Dell’Olio. Elen has mentioned that she’s been skinning rabbits from an early age and revealed the inner workings of her mental chambers as she cited a vital reason why she joined the show: ‘it would be great if it led to a new career.’ At least she’s honest. Set your dvd recorders for Friday at 9pm, this is not to be missed!
Images via AS
Proving she’s as annoying as we once suspected, Sara C. & co. played velveeta for the Spanish newspaper’s cameras Saturday evening – showing support for both teams featured in El Clasico. We get that she’s a ‘journalist’ who can not/should not show any bias, but then how does dating Real Madrid’s numero uno goalkeeper bode for her career?
While it’s no surprise that our sources have previously told of her famewhoring tendencies, seeing Iker’s newest galpal in action has caused us repel in publicity-disgust. Just so we’re clear: this girl got to feast/party at Asador Donostiarra restaurant before consoling Senor Casillas after his team’s 2- 0 loss to Barcelona? And that’s fair because….?
Before you throw the bitter-book at us,let’s just say that normally when a fearsome football twosome couple up for the world to see, we welcome the lady friend into the Kickette WAG club. But our astute spidey sense prevented us from extending Sara’s club membership, since there was that nagging ickyness that we couldn’t quite put our Butter London fingertips on.
A lesson Sara should learn: only ride-or-die WAGs make it to the altar. Confusing your team alliances wins you no friends among the Spanish wives.
Even if Ms. C learned her lesson, we’ve decided to revoke her privileges before even granting them. In fact, if her perfume-drenched application crossed our desks, we’d give a half-arse excuse and tell her to move it along. Or, in other words, we hear karma’s a bitch and she sometimes goes under the guise ‘Sara Pastasauce’.
Shall we just cut to the chase and ban Sara Carbonero from our fabulously-dressed, well-attended club altogether?
It’s been a mad shirtless and short tent weekend, ladies, and nowhere more so than in Portsmouth. Avram Grant’s side topped off a totally ridiculous season (unpaid wages, insolvency, this) by getting relegated from the EPL and then going to Wembley and qualifying for the FA Cup final. Goal scorer Kevin-Prince Boeteng (above) was pleased, and we were equally satisfied as Frank Lampard stripped off following Chelsea’s win over Aston Villa. For their efforts, we’re renaming the FA Cup final the ‘Chest Championship’. Join our campaign, won’t you?
If you weren’t planning on watching this weekend’s El Classico, maybe Xabi Alonso can convince you to reconsider.