In Marks and Sparks food hall..he's not half looking old now..and he really ought to stop wearing a track suit..nice fella though :-)

not particularly interesting apart from bringing back some great memories of the days Newcastle were worth going to watch :-(

Fucking hell, that Gullit is well-hung, isn't he?


Anyway, you'll remember how Quasimodo met his end. So the priest in charge of Notre Dame advertised for a new bell-ringer.

Applicant came and went. Even Paul S. was dismissed as too unqualified to produce a decent peal from the mighty bells. Then a huge featureless guy came running into Notre Dame's HR office, grunting and gesticulating wildly as he ran up the bell tower. Once up there, he demonstrated his skills, headbutting the bell to make it ring, catching the reverse swing, headbutting it again. Just as the priest of Notre Dame was abut to offer the man a job, the bell-ringer missed the bell and flew out of the window.

As the priest and the HR people reached the crowd gathered around the dead bell-ringer, a cop came by. Having ascertained the circumstances of the poor man's death, the gendarme asked the priest: "Do you know this man?"

The priest replied: "I don't know his name, but his face certainly rings a bell".


thangyouverymuch, I'll be performing here every Thursday.

Ah, my favourite player ever.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=ZvaZmQrDc4g

He must have been the best player ever to play alongside. Just ask Gary Lineker. Or Andy Cole.

Next time you bump into him, give him a big wet kiss from me, vorderman.

QUOTE:
..he's not half looking old now..and he really ought to stop wearing a track suit..

You know, for some reason I can't quite put my finger on, I'm glad he's still wearing a tracksuit. It just, I dunno, feels right.

QUOTE:
Fucking hell, that Gullit is well-hung, isn't he?

Err, that's Rijkaard, isn't it?

So it's true, they do all look the same.

QUOTE:
Err, that's Rijkaard, isn't it?

Shows you where on the photo I was concentrating.

Anyway, you'll remember how Quasimodo met his end. So the priest in charge of Notre Dame advertised for a new bell-ringer.

Applicant came and went. Even Paul S. was dismissed as too unqualified to produce a decent peal from the mighty bells. Then a huge featureless guy came running into Notre Dame's HR office, grunting and gesticulating wildly as he ran up the bell tower. Once up there, he demonstrated his skills, headbutting the bell to make it ring, catching the reverse swing, headbutting it again. Just as the priest of Notre Dame was abut to offer the man a job, the bell-ringer missed the bell and flew out of the window.

As the priest and the HR people reached the crowd gathered around the dead bell-ringer, a cop came by. Having ascertained the circumstances of the poor man's death, the gendarme asked the priest: "Do you know this man?"

The priest replied: "I don't know his name, but his face certainly rings a bell".

After this, they still need a new bell-ringer, of course, and the next day another guy arrives, explaining only that he's the brother of the last guy and equally good in the campanology stakes.

Before the priest can reply, the guy runs into the bell tower and puts on exactly the same performance, only to make the same mistake as his sibling and come to a similarly sticky end.

Once again a crowd gathers, and once again the gendarme arrives and asks the priest if he knows who the deceased is. "No," replies the priest, "but he's a dead ringer for his brother."

And a round of applause for my lovely guest star, Mr Hofzinser.