White Hart Lane

This week I have been to Wales, London and places near to me in the grim north.

Here are a few photos from our visit to the Lane on Friday. I know the adulation only perpetuates the prima donna arrogance of the players but I can't help myself. I loved the tour. The snippets of info from the guides and the ability to sit in Harry's chair, on Ledley's bench seat in the changing room and at the mike in the press conference room made it 11 quid well worth spending. Typically, my girl tried to get more than she paid for and was told off twice. Once for going on to the pitch (mercifully NOT in the style of Erica Roe) and secondly for sneaking into the toilets in the changing rooms. Her verdict on that was 'urrggghhh, it smells really bad.' This may be because the only toiletry products in sight were on the wall, squirty Head and Shoulders containers. If we do ever make the stupidly named Champions' league maybe they'll up the quality and take a leaf out of Chelski's book and install lockers in the changing rooms. Apparently in these they have a system where aftershave is sprayed in a mist on the players as they open their locker doors.

Interesting facts:

• Spurs have the only 11 man plunge bath left in the League
• We had Champions' league standard lights fitted last summer at a cost of 12 million quid
• The original brass cockerel has dents in it where Gazza shot at it the week before scoring against Les Arses without a boot on
• The away dressing room has a low ceiling, poor lighting, no board, not tables and rubbish showers. All of this is deliberately unsporting
• Arse Wenger once complained that his match side seat wasn't heated

Babel fish

I found the 'Google translate' widget earlier (see the sidebar on the right) and have been fiddling with it. I tried translating everything into Japanese but was disappointed to discover that I must be lacking the appropriate scripts on my PC as it came up non- japanesey gobbledygook. Next I tried French which read pretty well as far as my own French skills could tell. I then went to the Google translation language tools and translated part of it back into English. Most amusing. It instantly reminded me of 'Everything is illuminated' which features the prose of a very earnest Ukrainian who is writing in English with a little too much help from a thesaurus.

I used the post below for my experiment. This is how the last two paragraphs came out in French:

Je viens de recevoir un appel. Je me suis arrêté et le sifflement agaçant bourdonnement dans un mode assez longtemps pour aller "uh huh" un peu de temps et d'interpréter les grandes Yorkshire du mécanicien qui a dit quelque chose dans le sens de: «tout vérifié, rien de vraiment mauvais, à tous, la direction et les freins sont fins, il a juste besoin de suivi adapté, nous avons fait en un rien de temps et vous pouvez payer quand vous venez en service pour votre prochain, c'est la transformation de cette peine une heure "

Je suis un peu peur que si je cesse d'être positif à tout moment avant que je prends la voiture que je vais être sur le point de route lorsque l'un des mécaniciens de crier "s'accrocher mate, je ne vois vraiment important et cher chose pendaison de l'arrière de votre voiture ... "

Looks cool huh?

Then this is how it translated back:

I just received a call. I stopped annoying hiss and buzz in a way long enough to go "uh huh" a few times and to interpret the broad Yorkshire engineer who said something along the lines of: "all checked, nothing really bad at all, the direction and the brakes are fine, it just needs to be appropriate follow-up, we have no time and you can pay when you come for your next service is the transformation of this penalty one hour "

I am a little afraid that if I cease to be positive at any time before I take the car I'll be on the road when one of the mechanics shouting "hang mate, I do really important and expensive thing hanging from the rear of your car ... "

I can see many many wasted hours ahead of me doing this!

The power of positive thinking

Normally when I identify a problem with my car it is with dread that I take it to the garage. I know that it's going to be costly and that even if I get an estimate of the cost it'll be a 50 quid or more than I was expecting. This morning though I took my car in and as I was driving(through genuinely torrential rain that only seems to fall round where I live) I found myself whistling and smiling rather than dreading. I have no idea what had put me in such a positive frame of mind but it continued into the greasy garage office, through the rain to the station, on the train to work and up the hill through the light rain that falls everywhere else.

I just got a call. I stopped whistling and humming in an irritating fashion long enough to go 'uh huh' a few times and interpret the broad Yorkshire of the mechanic who said something along the lines of:"all checked, nothing really wrong at all, the steering and brakes are fine, it just needs tracking adjusted, we'll have it done in no time and you can pay us when you come in for your next service- it's hardly worth processing this one"

I'm a bit worried that if I stop being positive at any time before I pick the car up that I'll just be about to drive away when one of the mechanics will shout "hang on mate, I can see a really important and expensive thing hanging off the back of your car..."

Carpe Diem Innit

This is the best version.

Did you know?

A little US in bias but fascinating all the same.

champagne superwa***r

I still haven't worked out whether I want us to get the Europa League spot. On the one hand it'd be an amazing way to mark then end of Harry Redknapp's first season, especially after the first 8 games under Ramos. On the other, it'd be good not to get embroiled in the mess that is the poor cousin to the notoriously misnamed Champions' League. Either way it's probably academic as Fulham are on a roll and play the toffees who'll no doubt have one (collective) eye on the FA Cup and we play Liverpool who have nothing but frustration to keep them occupied after losing out to Man United.

The blue half of Manchester was at White Hart Lane on Saturday and I was glad it wasn't a decent team. The 2-1 scoreline was about right and, although Keane and Pav were like those uncoordinated people you get at half time who have won a competition that allows them to try to score but they can't because they're pants, a few players put in a decent shift.

From the back of the Paxton we couldn't work out who was on the end of some barracking from Park Lane and Shelf but this (from the Mirror) explained all:

Oasis' Liam Gallagher laid into Tottenham Hotspur supporters at White Hart Lane on Saturday (May 16), as the team played his beloved Manchester City.Spurs fans infuriated the Oasis singer by chanting "You're just a shit Chas & Dave" at him early on in the match. In response Gallagher, who was watching the game from an executive box alongside his elder brother Paul, taunted the home supporters by flicking his middle finger and V-signs at them, forcing the club's security step in and force him back to his seat.The Spurs fans had the last laugh though, beating Man City 2-1 on the day

As a woman of the etiquette

Whatever you do, don't look at the picture below if you're easily offended or grossed out. It's another first rate effort from engrish.com . To be honest I'm surprised it hasn't featured on Dragon's Den. When I was kid I was helping my mum clean out some old stuff in our loft. I came across an old metal tin and inside it was a pipe with pump attachment. It actually looked quite expensive and there were detailed, though yellowed and largely unreadable, instructions inside the lid. I picked it up and started doing all the obvious things a 10 year old boy would do: I stuck it in my ear, pretended it was a snorkle and other types of breathing apparatus, squeezed the ball thing so that air went in my face. 'What is it?' I asked, unaware that the picture of angelic innocence would forever and from that moment forward be wiped from my face.

'It was your great grandmother's. ' said my mum, 'It's called a saline douche. They used them in the old days to clean out their private areas after they had been intimate with their husbands.'

This isn't much more than a fancy version of that as far as I can make out


I looked up Leukorrhoea. I wish I hadn't. That certainly stopped my chuckling I can tell you.
I notice the 'AGENT WANTED' at the bottom. I don't think I'll apply.