Happy Monday, Spursland! In light of the recent unfortunate video of a certain young Romanian player falling on his well-lubricated (with booze) ass, I have decided it is high time for a new series in the Hoddle. I give you the first installment of Lillywhite Drinkie-Poo. And now for our first drink in honor of our Romanian Batman, I give you:
The Alcohol Impaler.
Step 1: Muddle a half plum inside a beer glass.
Step 2: Fill 2/3 the way up with Carling Premier.
Step 3: Drop one large shot of homemade Tuica you bought from a man selling it out of his back shed.
Step 4: Chug.
Please drink responsibly and legally and not at all to the levels that Vlad did in that video. That is a state we around the offices call "The Rosenblatt."
And now the "news"
What a nice polite boy. No wonder that Mary Hatch whispered she would love him forever into his bad ear as he squatted down behind the ice cream counter. Although I may be confusing Roberto Soldado with someone else.
Like all of it, so I'll just take this time to remind you that Erik Lamela is kind of good.
This makes a lot of business sense, said nobody who can count.
Fun act about Australia that is completely unrelated to this: The microwave's grandmother was Australian and when she found out I played rugby in college, every time she saw me from then on out she would sing the South Sydney Rabitoh's song. Oh yeah, and this is a cool thing for Heart and City. Ready-made feeder club in a cool location for your young guns to get competitive games and catch some competitive rays.
Oh you are going to look it, you pervert.
Oh, you are going to look it too because everyone loves a car crash. NASCAR fans know what I'm talking about.