Howmanheyman

Was humming to this as I dropped off my daughter and her pal in the town this morning after laughing at their requests to put Capital radio on.

To be fair to him, the squad has been shamefully weakened over the last couple of years. He's still not up to it, but as ever, the problem stems from above as I honestly don't think future England Guvnor, Pards, would've done much better with the rank bad personel we've had to pick from.

The board couldn't see it coming? Charnley probably thought it was an easy win for himself to show to his boss. Money in the bank for old manager, no outlay for new manager, enough points on board if he's shit and save half a season of wages on new manager or carver does well and it's seen as shrewd and cheap appointment. Luverly jubberly.

Watched 'in Bruges' last night. Not too bad a film but won't stay in the memory too long more for the Feinnes character towards the end.

Strange night last night. Some fucking idiot taxi driver decided to change passengers half way through the journey as we kept laughing at his shit patter. Gets us out as some cheeky bairns took our place eating a kebab and trying to get lippy. I asked him if he had a problem but he then jumped in the front seat quicker than Bo Duke before the taxi driver sped off as the kids stared down at their feet.

If Danny Graham can finally score for the mackems then Riviere has to get the winner for us.

Top class coaching from Carvs, adapting to West Bromwich Albion's height.

Only bit of class we have. Get in Ayoze, son!

Two completely unnecessary relegations for brilliant businessman and football genius, Mike Ashley.

Fucking smacks off the post with the keeper beaten. They're going to win this.

Mackems have just took the lead at Everton with one fucking spawny goal.

Have we ever had a bigger set of thick cunts surrounding this club than we do now? "The cat.....hang on a minute......sat......... on......... the........what's that say?.........mat! The cat sat on the mat." "Urrgghh! Me fucking heed, man. Ah knew ah shouldn't have let Mala start iz on the shorts after the Stella." "So ah bumps into Joey Barton and he says, 'Tayls! I was just thinking of you the other day in Tescos. I was walking down the bread aisle. But then I realised it said 'thick cut' instead.' That's the thing with Joey, like, he might come across as a hard nut but he always thinks about his old mates." Forgot about this.

"Wasn't too bad an effort to be honest, mate, but you need to talk the punters lingo a bit more, chuck the odd terrace ditty in, get an old players input, that kind of stuff. Still, ah wouldn't give up the day job just yet, son."

Just read HF's article. Excellent.

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half. 08/05/2015 Well ah've been a busy bee these last few weeks with all the fall out from the many defeats the lads in Black & white, or grey when we change strips, have been taking. Ah've been non-stop 'on the United beat' as the great Alan Oliver used to say. Ah was in bed the other night in the middle of 'European football factories' which ah knew quite a bit of after me fact finding mission to Dortmund a couple of months ago, when me phone rang. "Hello, It's Ryder, speak to me" ah said. The voice at the other said, "St. James' Park. Half an hour. Be prompt and bring a notepad and pen." before hanging up. Ah knew the voice, it was Danger Mouse's friend, Penfold look-a-like, the young Toon supremo, Lee Charnley! Ah didn't stop to think for a second, which is my normal modoss oper..., mrders, murders operation, err, is how ah normally work, like. Ah gets to the SJP reception just after midnight to be greeted by a night shift receptionist who wasn't normally there, the lass explained it was her first shift and she was told it was for one night only on a zero hours contract. She sent me in to a dark, murky office with just a single 40 watt lamp illuminating a small round table with Penfold Charnley sitting on one side of it and a spare chair on the other. Charnas then told the lass to sign herself out and put two hours on her agency works form which she seemed to disagree on, she gans, "But Mr Charnley, I started work at 11pm and now it's 01. 17!" Penfold told her that NUFC only pays to the nearest hour and if she wanted to work here again she'd need to understand that before turning to me as the lass left looking at Charnas with a grateful smile although it was hard to tell in the dark room, ah got the feeling she was really grateful for the two hours pay the club had put her way. "Lee, we need a letter to the fans. It's got to be from our Captain whom they totally respect. We've already tried Moncur, Beardsley and Carver, hell we even got John Hall out of his nursing home for a day and had to pretend we were taking him to MetroLand, but the fans aren't buying it. We need Coloccini to get them to call off the protest. I'm concerned we could get relegated and Mike will go fucking beserk if we go down and lose the tv money. I'm fucked here if we go down, he'll make sure I never get another admin job anywhere including WH Smith in Northumberland street as Mike knows their boss!" Wow! The shit really was starting to hit the fan or fans in this case. "What can ah do for you, Mr Charnley?" ah says. Charnas then told me me that obviously Colo wasn't going to write the letter himself and that the fans would smell a rat if my belle of the PR ball, Wendy wrote it as she wasn't on 'the same level as the fans' he said. "Lee Ryder! We need you to write it for us. You have the common fans touch. You speak their language. Go ahead and write it down. Don't use word or excel, use a notepad." Ah scratched me head a bit at that, mind, why would he think ah wouldn't use me trusted notepad? Anyway, under his glare ah scratched oot the words in that dark, seedy room as if me journalistic career depended on it, which, let's be honest diary, it fucking well does! next thing ah knaa, Carvs walks in the room and takes the A4 off iz, winks at me and says, "Cheers wor kid! Your letter's ganna be at tomorrows presser! Any news you need, any stories, just give iz a bell, Lee!". Fucking champion! you can't stop the boy Ryder getting into print! Plus ah was keeping me NUFC contacts going strong. Ah went back home in the early hours thinking, if only the fans knew the efforts ah put into making Newcastle United great again! It's only something me loyal Chronicle readers will know and obviosly love. Laters!

"Oh-oh, yes! I'm the great suspender Suspending and I'm doing well My need is such I suspend too much I'm lonely but no one can tell."

Thoroughly depressing getting up to see how it's panned out. They can slap each other on the backs in Fleet Street, they can unlock the cupboard and let Duncan-Smith out now the election is over and the vulnerable can look forward to the shit coming their way thanks to the blinkered/selfish attitudes/thick spoon-fed wankers who have let these cunts back in. Worried personally as well as mine is a single income family as the Wife is on DLA and can't work. With a reduced or removed DLA and working tax credits reduced or removed things are going to worse off from my own POV but I'm sure there'll be a nice bit of spin about being a tenner or so better off in income tax or some other shite whilst other benefits are slashed. I sometimes despair of this country, horrible, horrible bastards abound.

Had the short sleeved bukta one with the number nine stitched on the back. Was superb. P.S. Rush wasn't playing for them when I originally got the shirt and there was no numbers on the shirts they sold then.

Socialist values = 'Airy Fairy' Fuck you lot, I'm all right, Jack = 'Running an economy'

The only strippers I've ever seen weren't 'exotic'. The ship in the hole- Wallsend. Horrific. The Blue Bell, Shields Road, ditto horrific. Gosforth Rugby club, so-so. Never felt comfortable at any time surrounded by middle-aged drooling CT look-a-likes or young lads trying to take the piss out of a bored, skint, pissed off, average looking housewife getting her fanny out 'for the lads'.

Un-elected media, owned by non doms, helping out the Conservative party is fine apparently and never worthy of being mentioned. Trade Union leaders, elected by their members advising their members who would likely vote Labour anyway, to vote for Miliband, is usually 'Union Barons flexing their muscles'.

I never knew it was snide and luckily neither did my pals! In a way, foreign football is almost the norm now, coverage wise. Back then it seemed so distant and cool as fuck with the limited footage on sportsnight, the highlights with commentary over a crackling telephone line etc.

It was Norman Smith I was referring to, Alex.

"Vicar, man! You forgot that balmy night in Barcelona! Football! Sir Alex! Teddy and Ole, Football, eh? Bloody hell!".

Aye, I've mentioned it before, but my late Granparents took me and my Sis on holiday in '87 to Lido di Jesolo as my folks could never have afforded it back then. My folks did give us some spending money which I saved till the last couple of days and bought the Platini Juventus strip which went down well on my return playing football in the summer with my pals jealous as fuck as foreign shirts were very rare back then. (round our way, anyway.)