- Feb 1, 2005
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Personally, i've wagered the contents of my office drawer on one candidate and i'm sweating on it. I can afford to lose the paper clips, two sticks of gum, a mouldy half eaten apple, a well thumbed copy of 'Titty Patrol' and a half a packet of twiglets but I don't know how i'm going to replace the 22ct gold buttplug and the SnugSnatch MkIII hand held vadge which were gifts from Oddie on the occasion of our 50th Friday Fuckfest and hold huge sentimental value for me. Love you Bill.
Yesterday's ITK (Such as it was) began with some good old fashion player stuff.........
Lovely. And then The Goat took centre stage..............Jacob said:All done pretty much. Now awaiting sign off from one of the Ajax directors. Board room is a bit of a mess over there atm. Should be fine though
Followed late last night by..........The Goat said:NOT from our usual source, but we're hearing there's a bid of £35m + a player (we weren't told who) on the table from Real Madrid, we are waiting on the new manager before making a decision.
I think there's pretty much only one person that could have been. We'll see.The Goat said:Secret meeting took place today with a manager...
And that was all for yesterday. A bit skinny, so we're delving back into SC's archives to bring you the following, first posted a couple of years or so ago:
Part 1: 300
Last weekend I was fortunate enough to be able to spend a day at the ITK training school at a top secret location in Hertfordshire.
I had arranged to meet my contact outside the Chick King on the Tottenham High Road and I was wondering what was in store for me as a big black 4x4 slowly pulled up and two masked men jumped out, threw a blindfold over my head and bundled me into the car.
I did wonder if someone had seen and called the po-po before realising this was Tottenham, similar incidents probably happened twenty times a day.
Nobody spoke to me during the journey, although one of the dirty bastards dropped his guts several times during the journey, producing an aroma so bad that it made me wonder if a rat hadn't crawled up his arse and died there. I could have done without the sniggering by the two heavies every time he did so, what with them having the luxury of being able to wind down a window and all........ anyway, I guess it was about an hour later I when I was taken out of the car and had the blindfold taken off. As I blinked, dazzled by the sunlight a short figure, bald, wearing spectacles and with a club foot, a sort of cross between Joseph Goebbels and Heinrich Himmler greeted me in a high pitched, squeaky voice "You must be A&C", I nodded and he told me I could call him 'The Leader'
"Follow me, he said and i'll show you around" and off he went, taking three clumpy paces to my every one.......one of his aides growled into my ear "slow down for fucks sake, he's got a thing about his boot", just as I slowed down he turned and screamed, "what? you think because you're tall and can walk faster than me that you're somehow better than me?"....."Well, your fucking not, so watch yourself" His aide raised his eyebrows at me in a sort of 'told ya' gesture.
Pretty soon we entered a building, turned left into the first room, which was a classroom. Every desk was occupied by a figure wearing a Spurs shirt and a blue balaclava, the instructor was shouting phrases and the class were repeating them in unison.
As 'The Leader' entered the room, silence fell as he stood on a chair to address the class. He turned to me and said "An example of what they've learned"
He turned back to the class and in his high pitched voice which was already irritating the fuck out of me shouted.....
"What do we never say?"
"Done deal" chanted back the class
"And what do we never do"
"Answer questions"
He nodded his approval, hopped off the chair, flung a curt 'follow me' over his shoulder and marched off, following a blue line which was painted on the floor. As we walked briskly down the corridor, the sound of the opening bars of Abba's 'Money Money Money' chimed out and The Leader dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his mobile phone.
"What?....You're fucking kidding me.....where? Fucking scouse ****s.....we'll get even don't you worry about that, the fucking nonces aren't going to get away with this.....stand by for instructions"
"problem?" I asked as he hung up the call........"Nothing we can't handle.....seems an ITK in Liverpool gave out a snippet and got shot.........you ever see 300?"
"eh?" I replied, confused by the question
"300.......three fucking hundred......you know, 300! The film about them Spartan geezers"
"Oh...er, yeah"
"Well I fucking told them, I fucking wrote to them and I fucking pleaded with them. When Gerard Butler kicks that messenger down that great big hole, I fucking told them it was setting a dangerous precedent, cut the scene I said, it'll be anarchy I said, but did they listen? Did they fuck. Just laughed at me. ****s. Once people see one messenger being killed, people think they are fair game......all they had to do is change the scene and have him thank him for his information, is that so fucking hard?"
'well, no, it isn't now you come to mention it'
"Yet time after bastard time, we get aggro, nothing but aggro for providing a service"
'Well, sometimes, some of you do ask for it'
He went purple........
"we never fucking ask for it! What are you, some sort of ****?.........I invited you here to give our side of the story, are you going to do that or are you some sort of hero or something?"
'no no, of course i'm on your side' I said, well aware that I was in danger of ruining the whole thing. "Where we going next?"
The Oracle giggled. Well, it was more of a cross between the cackle of a witch and the squarking of an eagle. I think he giggled anyway.......
"Wanna learn about Cryptics?"
Coming soon, Part two: Cryptics
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