She looks like she's doing some sort of Shakira dance thing.
She looks like she's doing some sort of Shakira dance thing.
She's my purty friend.
Got anymore of your purty friend then?
There are 60 million nicer photos of her not drunk but this was from the night and I like it.
(SPOILER)
I won't be prostituting her though so you'll have to deal with my ugly mug if you want to see more.![]()
Last edited by demondude; 07-04-2011 at 12:06 AM.
I can put up with your ugly mug for that.
In the United Kingdom and various former colonies, we play the most magnificent sport known to man: CRICKET. Allow me to take you on a journey through a typical Saturday afternoon* for one EoFF member at one legendary cricket club.
I arrive early to inspect the pitch and deliberate tactics. Mostly alone, as the majority of our team turn up five minutes before we start. For the record, today was a cup quarter-final clash between us, and by virtue of there being no seeding, the team at the top of the league (we're 2nd).
This is the wicket, known around these parts as what is possibly the worst batting track in South Wales. Green, damp and spongy, the ball will rarely rise above waist level (which is why you'll notice I neglect to wear a helmet tolduiwashardcore.jpg), and it moves about off the pitch like you were bowling onto a corrugated roof. Great, as we have the best bowlers in the league. It's just a shame that I'm a batsman and have to deal with that deathtrap.
This was meant to be an inch-perfect demostration of a shot known as the cover drive, but our cameraman deems the Welsh valleys' glorious scenery of more quality nature than my skills with the willow.
It begins. For the dirtily ininitiated, the fieldsmen in shot are the wicket-keeper (crouching behind the batsman), 1st slip (right of wicket keeper), gully (below bowler), and mid on (dead centre of picture). I think I'm bowling.
Long story short, they hit 262 from 45 overs (protip: a good score), and we were sent in to bat. Unfortunately we capitulated (to the IMMENSE PRESSURE of the game no doubt) to a score of around 50/4 in the first ten overs, sending me in to bat at number 6 rather prematurely. Being a seasoned veteran, such testing conditions proved but trifling and I go immediately onto the attack. Except that if I recall correctly, that shot went straight to a fielder.
In fact, I liked that shot so much that I did it again!
Yet, as is so often the case, our opposition were actually pretty good at fielding and placing the ball through the gaps proved difficult. Above is what turned out to be the only scoring shot of my innings (it went for 4).
Oo-er, this bowler's a bit quick
Well, tit.
Thus ended my cameo, and shortly after, the game, as I was the last player with any real batting ability to attempt to save the game. Alas, we were all out for 130 odd, and there ended our cup dreams for another season.
On a lighter note, yesterday we achieved the highest successful run-chase victory ever for the club when we chased down 306 with 4 overs to spare, and I proved to one and all that I'm not actually tit at this game by scoring 36. I'm expecting a call from Andrew Strauss soon.
*i lie, this is the one day of the year where it hasn't rained in wales
there was a picture here
Manus has a habit of making me feel smart when he talks about cricket
Before I read your post I thought that was what it was. I was like "That is quite dangerous."
He looked up, wondering why he was asked what they already knew.
"Ok, ok." He sighed. "It all started with a game."
"Just thought I'd come back to EoFF once every six <s>months</s> years and post a pic of my handsome self. What, still no Sexiest Male Ciddie? You're all a bunch of" [remainder censored]
Bow before the mighty Javoo!
I'm all dressed up for this wedding .. I'm the giant indian in the middle.