Thursday, 29 October 2015


Obviously things didn't quite go according to the agnivores' script last night. All the shite they'd been spouting about Deila under pressure, the changing room being lost and players fighting and biting chunks of out each other didn't have the desired effect. They're well pissed off, as you can tell by the way they're saying how boring the match was and that Leigh Griffiths saved Ronny's arse.

And they're still desperately trying to ramp up the pressure. Look at this pish from the Record (where else?) "this capital trip kicked off the start of a massive nine days for Deila with Premiership challengers Aberdeen next up on Saturday followed by Molde in the Europa League." And then comes the mention of the "training ground bust-up between Izaguirre and Ciftci." They're getting desperate; but not as desperate as The Peeppul. One of them laughably, and without a hint of irony, is on the Record comments saying that Celtic only won thanks to a dodgy referee!

The fact is that it was Tom Rogic that really changed the game, not Griffiths. And who was it that saw what was needed and put Rogic on in place of James Forrest? If that had been Sevco we'd be reading all about what a tactical genius Warbie is and how, with his Sorting Hat on, he can judge how to change a match. A different story when it's Celtic; apparently Deila's still 'under pressure'.

The Agenda continues with Willie Miller telling us that "The whole of Scottish football is relying on Dons taking title fight to Celtic". Fair enough, you might think. Everybody wants to see an exciting league. But then comes the punchline in the article itself: "I’ve always been a supporter of getting Hearts back in the league and it’s the same with Rangers (sic) and Hibs...We need them back in there to make it a credible league". What the fuck? So it's not a 'credible league' at present? It's the old argument that only those, and such as those, that should be in the top tier. Forget the fact that Hibs were shite two seasons ago and were relegated as per the rules and that Sevco is a new club working its way up; they should be put straight into the Premiership. I wonder if, in the unlikely event of Celtic being relegated, we'd still be talking about a league that's not 'credible'!

Remember last summer, how we were told that the Championship was the one to watch and how it was going to be vastly more exciting than the Premiership? There was none of that kind of stuff this year and I don't hear 'the whole of Scottish football' calling for Hibs to put up a better show. Apparently, 'the whole of Scottish football' only wants excitement in the top tier and is perfectly happy with a 'one-horse race' in the Championship. I wonder why that is.

Meanwhile, Lady Muck, Michelle Mone, has given out this advice on Twitter: "If you really want something, really work hard, don't look for excuses, be proactive, have a can do attitude & never ever give up,you will succeed." Is this bitch for real? Let's have a look at how she 'got to the top'.

Seemingly, Mone left school at 15, even though, by law, you can't leave until you're 16. (Anybody that stayed on at school will remember all the sullen characters that had to keep going to school for a fifth year, at least until Christmas.) But, hey, it sounds good when you're trying to make out how hard your life was! Anyway, she got work as a model and then got herself pregnant. One quick shotgun wedding later and she had to become a housewife, while her husband only earned £13,000 a year. I'm welling up already. Oh, and according to some of the stories she gives out, she was a single parent. Quite how you manage that with a husband in tow is not explained.

Next came the job at Labatt, which Mone admits she got through lying on her application about her qualifications. After she was made redundant she came up with the idea of the Ultimo Bra and the rest is history. Except it's not. There have been various articles in newspapers that question her role in the MJM company, saying that she was simply a PR front while her husband did all the work. And there have been doubts expressed about how successful MJM was and how much money she really has. Still, giving lectures at £20,000 a pop and picking up £300 a day for turning up at the House of Lords means that she won't be going hungry and is still going to need those diet pills.

I'm always suspicious when some successful 'entrepreneur' is held up as some kind of example to us all. Richard Branson, Karren Brady and, dare I say it, David Murray, all came from rich backgrounds and progressed with the help of 'daddy' and his contacts. Then we have others that didn't come from quite such privileged beginnings. Alan Sugar made his fortune with the Amstrad company. Anyone unlucky enough to have owned an Amstrad hi-fi in the 80s will know that the name was hardly a by-word for quality. In fact, many folk called them Amstrad lo-fi's. Another character held up as an inspiration is one David Sullivan, who started out by selling pornographic photographs through adverts in men's magazines.

So, really, if you were to follow these entrepreneurs' examples you need a rich daddy, con folk into buying utter shite or sell dirty pictures in plain, brown envelopes. Failing that, lie. If you're a female, of course, you can always wave your blond hair, flash your teeth, get your tits out and bag a well-off husband. Working hard, it seems, is a mug's game. And to prove the point, these folk want to cut tax benefits so as not to encourage anyone to actually take a job. We've all to start up our own businesses. I'm afraid my tits aren't as good as Lady Muck's and I don't have rich parents. Now, where's that camera...

I'm about half-way through getting my book formatted. Yes, I know I've said that before but I noticed an error and had to start all over again! I'm getting the hang of it now, but it's still a long, painful process. It might not be available next week but, don't worry, the winner of my competition will still get a copy as soon as it's ready. So keep those answers coming. Remember, I just want you to tell me what 'F.H.S.I.B.', which I listed as one of my qualifications in 'Never Mind The Agnivores', means. Send your answers to andersonpat43@gmail.com

"I'd like to see the Dons get beat by six or seven goals.
 I'd like to buy the agnivores a Coke, and ram it up their holes.
I'd like to see their favourite team come crashing round their ears.
And hear the echoes through the hills of bitter sobs and tears."
(It's no' the Real Thing - it's a whole new club.)

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