Howmanheyman

I have a question of the day to Marina. Marina, do you like jewelry? If you do like jewelry then I have to let you know that I've got a real gem in my Hondacrackas.

Hi Marina!

Anyone who doesn't want to shout out 'IN THE SNOW!' when they hear that bit sung in 'white Christmas' hasn't stood in the Gallowgate terrace and therefore isn't a true geordie.

Anyone who's clean shaven and slim isn't the true geordie.

The Uefa cup hands down. Hervé Jean-Pierre Villechaize, (Tattoo), to play Craig Bellamy. "but they have this idea that they should be bigger than Liverpool or just as big as Liverpool or Manchester United – they aint."

Disappointed we lacked 'Frust' but there were times when we played some decent stuff up to a point. The goal was the killer as they looked as least as timid as we did in the final third and not as comfortable with the ball. A classic example of two managers trying not to get beat and hoping for a lucky break or a bounce which yesterday went in favour of Fat Sham. Once they went in front we were fucked. Got to say the Ref gave them the benefit time after time today and the game went from bad to worse with the suspensions.

To be fair, Mick Dennis has form for being a fucking knob where our club and it's supporters are concerned, whatever animal he's humping.

Not content with just shooting some cabbages, he then decides to bayonet it. Then shoot it as it's impaled.

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half. 27/11/14 Sometimes in this game you come out on top, you get the scoop while others eat your dust, sometimes ah think it's just too easy and it's Ryder versus the rest with the rest in my rear view mirror. But sometimes even the best get stung. Yesterday ah was passing through the coast to drop a birthday card off for me Auntie when ah got the kind of hunger pangs you used to get picking willocks at the beach when you were a bairn. Anyways, being a journalist you learn to be observant and ah noticed a chippy on my left heading past Seaton Sluice. Ah enters the establishment of 'The Harbour View' and proceeded to get a carton of gravy and chips when my Sports Journalist senses started tingling like Scott Sellars when he knew there was a chance of a through ball to Andy 'King' Cole. Ah overhears some auld dear talking to the Wife behind the counter about how celebrities are getting in now, namely Premier league footballers. It turns out that new Spanish teen sensation, Ayoze Perez, the Matador of Gallowgate has been getting stuck into the old Geordie cuisine! Ah hung back till they shut up the shop and managed to beat the rest to this breaking news. Apparently the Goal assassin from Tenerife had cod and chips, he asked for a kids portion but as this would've filled most adults this posed about as much a problem for the Toon hitman as Tottenham's defence did. He didn't ask for batter with his chips but Mrs Parker put some on anyway and he seemed happy enough especially when she also gave him a small wooden fork which he said he was going to keep to show his brother. As ah left the Harbour View eating me gravy and chips ah noticed the chips carton had a copy of The Sun around it, ah had a chuckle at their North East correspondent, David Coverdale's picture thinking this is where your stuff ends up, mate, in chips! Then ah noticed a story about Senor Perez eating fish & chips!! Ah looked at the date and it was from Tuesday! Two days ago! Fucking bastards! Ah'd been out manoover, manouviu, been fucking done by Coverdale! Ah well ah thought, even the best don't always win. Ah still ran the story anyway as ah knew my loyal readers would like the Ryder take on the Chippygate story. Laters Diary.

That'll be in the 'Magnolia' section, Zanetti. You're welcome.

Zip it, Jeeves.

1. how much more time does Pardew deserve? I'd give the man till dinnertime to clear his desk and say goodbye to people. I'm pretty reasonable like that. 2. you most like to go for a pint with? Ryan Taylor

Nee duck pouts, obviously.

Souness and Murray were ahead of the game with their transfers while Souness was managing elsewhere, including Boumsong to us and a couple to Blackburn whose names escape me now. Souness was a generous buyer and dug deep for his old club and his pal, Murray.

Nice legs leading up to a nice arse.

"In the future, you may refrain from addressing me until you've cleared it with my dogsbody, PaddockLad. Now run along and polish your helmet or whatever it is you plebians actually do."

Pack of bastards. All he wanted to do was come on here and talk about his favourite football team, formations, shrubbery tips, landscape gardening and £50 bets. Nee wonder this place is going to the dogs.

He can fucking well buy them just like everybody else!

Good summary.

I knew quite a bit about this period but the author has dug out a lot I didn't already know. Might ask for it as a Christmas present.

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half. 24/11/2014 Well diary, time for a Ryder catch-up, Ah was finishing putting together a special 'six of the best' piece about Pard's heroes last six games, y'knaa, a kind of tribute to all the cup specials that Gibbo would put out when he was fucking desperate for a story and the well was dry, unlike his whisky glass. Ah basically copied and pasted bits from my match reports of the last six games and like a wurlitzer ride on the hoppings, I was done in three minutes flat but unlike the iconic ride I wasn't out of breath when ah'd finished. Anyway, my hotphone goes and ah answer sharpish, "Ryder, Top sports journalist speaking." It was Remi bringing me some more gen for a sub. Ah quickly gets the haggling done and he accepts a fifty bar note. Turns out Sammy Ameobi and Paul Dummett are doing a 'Racisim, kick it out' visit at Welbeck school in Walker where only invited journalists are allowed and as ah'm a clear and present danger to the NUFC Overlords then ah knew ah'd have to get in incog, ingoc, in disguise. Ah head down to the basement of Thomson House and borrow old Jenkins brown caretaker coat and head off to Walker. Ah walk into the school with the brown jacket on, a flat cap and a brush in me hand and get through to the assembly hall where flying winger Sammy is holding court with the new Hadrian's wall, big Paul Dummett, 'they will not pass!'. Anyways, ah'm tekking sly photos of them and recording their craic on me iphone when one of the kids shouts out, "You're not Mr Pearson! You're not our caretaker!" Next minute there's hell on. There's teachers demanding to know who I am and kids shouting "Don't touch us!" Then some meathead fathas in Helly Hansen jackets start running after me shouting they'll kill me and shouting Peado, pervert and Savile! They think ah'm a pervert when ah'm just trying to get a story for the Ronnie Gill! They chase me ah'll the way out and down Welbeck Road and ah'm nee mug, but there's just too many of them, and that's just the mothers with a death look on their faces and a greggs bag in their handbags! Anyway, ah gets down Scrogg Road and head into the graveyard before the £3 Miami Pizzas start to affect the fathas and mothers and they give up the chase. A lucky escape but ah've still got to get through Hexham avenue which makes 'The Warriors' trek through New York look like a stroll through Kensington Gardens. The things a local, banned journalist has to put up with! Anyways, ah gets back with the pics and the recordings and get it into tomorrows chronicle for my discerning NUFC readers. Ryder and out.

There's a few foreigners who have jobs where I work, some are management, (and are wankers just as their British counterparts are), one or two are full time employees and some are agency workers who are treat as shit as their British counterparts are. Apart from the agency workers being treat like shit, it bothers me not one fucking iota.

http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/five-talking-points-newcastle-united-8159723? :lol: Even I couldn't make this shit up.