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Celtic flattered Salzburg and AEK

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When you are knocked out of Europe there is a hope that the victors go on to do well in the tournament.  Valencia overcame Russian fourth placed club, Krasnodar, in the Europa round of 16, but it took a 93rd minute goal to rescue what was an away goals elimination.  Less impressive that Villarreal, who walloped Russian leaders, Zenit, 5-2 on aggregate.

The consensus was that Salzburg were the best team we faced in Europe this season, but they were unable to overturn a 3-0 first leg deficit to Napoli.  Napoli are at a multi-decade peak, adrift of Juventus but comfortably ahead of all others in Italy, but still, when we faced Salzburg they looked strong enough to withstand an evening in Naples.

Valencia may yet make a late push for the trophy, but at this stage, it looks like we were beaten in Europe by teams with limited potential (and let’s remember, AEK lost all six Champions League group games).

Leipzig continue to occupy a Champions League qualification spot in Germany and will still be wondering what went wrong in the Europa League group stage.  That was a worthy scalp, but we flattered Salzburg and AEK.

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  1. Right time for bed. Got to be up early for hospital the morra…Jist pray your not first for me to operate on. Anyway … a wee starter of a long long story. Night all!

     

     

    Tomorrow’s Sausage

     

     

     

    Franny was a very tall red-bearded pipe-smoking technophobe with one simple rule that dominated her life. Basically she would never ever leave the house unless she had clothed her delicate but well-honed musculature in a slim-fit light blue (with a yellow glow when the sun shone) two piece suit, brown winkle-pickers and a feckin hilarious prosthetic alligator lower jaw…although the funny side of the charade had escaped the appreciation of the alligator concerned.

     

     

    She really stood out in her allotted season card slot in the middle of the Green Brigade.

     

     

    With that sartorial directive however came the need for iron-clad willpower that would see her burn the midnight candle (having ran out of midnight oil) into the wee sma hours, steam-pressing and polishing with the best dubbin that money could buy.

     

     

    Sometimes as she twisted her neck to admire the cut of her jib and the size of her jaw in the mirror, she thought that she might be classed by some as ‘lonely’ , but there in her attic, the rafters adorned with pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Loretta Lynn and a pouting Conway Twitty to the background lilt of “I want to be loved by you”, she knew that it was probably her lack of computer talent and a habit of opening the skylight and shouting obscenities at the passing full moon that meant she was not lonely at all but in reality “unique”…”a special”…” a wan aff”…like that day when she met a Welsh transgender without malocclusion.

     

     

    But there was definitely something missing …. “the perfect partner”.

     

     

    She puffed all four cheeks “Ah the perfect partner” her mind’s film archive replaying the discarded if athletic cuttings from a life of disappointment.

     

     

    “Time to hone my computing talent and use the tentacle like reach of the web to find my ideal match…..Advice. I need advice” she mumbled to her life-size-blow-up tribute to Maureen O’Hara in the murky corner of the attic beside her mammy’s original Singer Sewing Machine.

     

     

    “Quiet Man…They would never have made a film called Quiet Woman” Maureen huskily responded in that way that a red-haired smile licks its lips or possibly an inflated doll deflates after its been bitten by a hungry pet rat, and then following a moment of dramatic silence…. “Try C…..M……D”

     

     

    Franny felt emboldened….”Of course CMD….TO THE COMPUTER and stop biting Maureen” she shouted at the rat.

     

     

    “C…M…D! Of course.”

     

     

    Leaning back in her chair balanced precariously on the cross rafters of the loft, Franny cracked her knuckles, stroked her ginger chin tresses and filled her pipe.

     

     

    “Right person-of-my dreams our spirits are about to meet in a cosmic conjunction.”she whispered through the pipe stem and slabbering down her beard . Carefully she entered, right fore-finger first, left forefinger, and with a final thumb flourish,”C M D” into her preferred search engine.

     

     

    The list of potential sites was almost immediate and she scanned for the one that would address her urgent needs…..

     

     

    Custard Mad Dollies…hmmm real potential; Chinese Monkey Glands– naw tried them…useless; Clatty Mary Donovan?-mibbe, what a girl! Clatty is an understatement mind ye., Clingfilm Model Demonstrators (confidentiality guaranteed)…definitely worth bookmarking.”

     

     

    She scanned further down and there it was ….That had to be the CMD she was after

     

     

    “Celtic Manic Depressives- your every fear vanquished and your every ambition realised…talk to the experts and get your every whim …..whimmed”

     

     

    She almost bit through her lower lip ring in her excitement while utilising her single shot typing skills, taking only twenty minutes to register and being re-directed to the Dark Web and a exclusive sub-site – Plenty Of Herring in the Kettle.

     

     

    “Ya dancer” she smiled, “This is definitely it. I can feel it in my water, which was sadly true as she realised it was her leaking colostomy bag tingling her inner recently shaved thigh.

     

     

    Attempting the difficult technique of groin-sucking she girded her bladder muscles stemming the distended burst balloon long enough to enter details of her deep felt need.

     

     

    Wanted : an allegedly lonely person who is terrified of computers and wears blue figure hugging Slaters suits, brown winkle-pickers and have an alligator prosthetic lower jaw while puffing on a pipe and shouting in the loft. Human preferred but don’t be put off as all species add to life’s rich tapestry (apart from Alligators who seem to have taken a personal dislike to me

     

     

    She hit the enter key, leaned back again, this time too far and plummeted through the open hatch, her rapid descent accompanied by the rattle of her eyebrow, nose and lip rings against the rungs of the telescopic ladder (£38.00 from ebay).

     

     

    “Time for some breakfast” she mumbled through the stream of claret spouting from one or more piercings and stepping carefully over the now fully dumped contents of her medical bag.

     

     

    “I don’t actually remember eating that” she puzzled and then realised that the bag had actually disgorged its contents over her pet rat. “That’ll teach ye fur biting Maureen…Karma at its best”

     

     

    A few minutes later the frying pan was sizzling. Egg, black pudding, mushrooms and two sausages arranged in a fashion that reminded her of a skelped bare bum.

     

     

    “Hee Hee” she thought and then broke into a wee tribute song “Fry me to the Moon, let me taste that lovely arse……”

     

     

    And then it happened, well to be accurate ‘then they happened’.

     

     

    The klaxon acknowledgement of a response to her partnership post echoed from the loft immediately followed by an unrelenting ratatatatatat and an incessant clanging of the letter box.

     

     

    And then silence followed broken by the slap of a weighty padded envelope hitting the laminate floor.

     

    She skipped in her steel heeled winkle-pickers to the door glancing first at the package on the floor.

     

     

    “If undelivered, return to Dermot Desmond Celtic Park yah bunch postal service thieves…I’m watchin’ youse” it jocularly announced on the visible side.

     

     

    “Maybe Dermot is a secret member of Plenty of Fish in the Kettle” she thought, and as she picked up the package she took a wee glance through the wee eyehole in the door.

     

     

    The world could have stopped.

     

     

    It was her…my god her….(No not Clatty Mary Donovan)….it was her…it couldn’t be …but it was …..HER!

     

    Not only the world seemed to have stop turning; time itself froze.

     

     

    A missive from Dermot, HER at the front door and an unread contact from a perfect match on Plenty Of Herring in the Kettle.

     

     

    Things couldn’t possibly get weirder….when a voice echoed from down the stairs in the flat reserved for the Hutchy court token hun…. ”Eff you Hartley FFS….last effin kick of the effin match”

     

     

    Franny knew that this wasn’t finished yet……she turned the door handle to greet HER…maybe all would be well and they would go the gemme together….or maybe an unbelievable adventure of mystery, murder, mayhem and magical massages was about to unfold.

     

     

    As the door opened the visitor’s smiling countenance altered to a seething hate-filled grimace as she plunged a syringe into Franny’s exposed neck.

     

     

    As Franny succumbed to the effects of the concentrated Gin and Tonic injected straight to her carotid, she whispered “Why sister? Why?” And then gasped “Hail Hail…”

     

     

    Darkness shrouded the world and it looked unlikely that Franny would eat her sausage or get to the Celtic game, but HER had made one big effin mistake.

     

     

    Another klaxon sounded from the loft and the apparently sisterly but deadly intruder secreted the now empty syringe in the inside pocket of her figure hugging blue slimfit twopiece suit, stroked her beard, puffed on her pipe, scratched her bald pate and strode towards the attic hatch her steel tipped brown winkle pickers tapping out a Bossa nova rhythm on the pine shiny flooring.

     

     

    To be continued

     

     

    Hail Hail

     

     

    Matt

  2. Matt, keep on keepin on…with emphasis on hospital tomorrow…beginning to think that you’re secretly channelling Iain Banks ;-))

     

     

    H.H.

  3. Matt, if the jaws bit no yer mammy…whit’s that got to do wae yer goldfish ;-))))

     

     

    H.H.

  4. Back in the UK – All bones intact. Result.

     

     

    Best weather ever for Skiing.

     

     

    Celtic got another Stoppage Time winner. Superb. Neil Lennon Thank You.

     

     

    8 is looking really Good noo.

     

     

    Macca is a Prophet 26mins in.

     

     

    Aidan said that Big Peter Lawwell was on the same flight oot of Geneva to Edinburgh @ 10:20. I wisnae sure if it wiz him. Frontrow seats for wan defo got me Abraham Lincoln.

     

     

    Wan thing is certain he was a spitting image.

  5. Petec…were u off piste….;-)) Aw bones intact is expected…hope u had a guid time ;-))

     

     

    H.H.

  6. These are Truly INCREDIBLE Times.

     

     

    Celtic are possibly going to do a Treble Treble in the most Hostile of Countries to CELTIC. Every other Country would be far more welcoming by this stage I reckon.

     

     

    First Car and First Tune played in it constantly. Magical sonic….. NJOI

     

     

    Visually Scotland is such a Beautiful place.

     

     

    It’s Institutions still seem to be a permanent Disgrace.

     

     

    The SFA are no worse than UEFA or FIFA..

  7. TheLurkinTim,

     

     

    I didnae go in for any recovery pints of Grande Bier, my legs were mangled Howevaaaah and it was a struggle.

     

     

    Its asif the Family were cracking the whip and stopping me doing the pitstops @ the watering holes up top and doon bottom of the mountain.

     

     

    The skiing conditions were just perfecto in Les Rousses and it was skiing over the pub easily – smooth skiing conditions.

     

     

    DEEEELIGHTED that Neil got us that win up @ Dens. Last Minute wins are Mega.

  8. After missing the Dundee and Aberdeen games I cannae wait to see this Record Breaking Celtic team play next. :))

     

    No Mercy CELTIC.

  9. Good morning CQN from a dry and mild Garngad

     

     

    I hope Tom Rogic and Ntcham are fit for the Sevco game, along with all our guys away on international duty.

     

    This would allow NFL a decent squad to choose from.

     

    Let’s get 3 points and keep the foot firmly on the throat of the rabid dog.

     

     

    D. :)

  10. Good morning, friends, from a mild but damp and grey East Kilbride. And the very best of luck to the Scotland Team this afternoon. I’m confident that we can get off to a good, winning start in this latest competition. COYBIB!

  11. G’mornin’ Jobo – Lang May Yer Lum Reek……

     

     

    ……… on the these Dear Green Pages………

     

     

    :)

     

     

    HH.

     

     

    I hope no Tims are hurt on that Kazak carpet caper! )

  12. If Chuka Umunna isn’t a proper party leader, then surely he was at the right meeting??

  13. Norrie M (yesterday)

     

     

    Agree about the distribution of the Offshore Game article to fans.

     

     

    I’ve put you down for Ayebrokes, that OK??

     

     

    Hope the SFA and Big Ebt get the result they deserve.

  14. I’d never ever want Scotland to get beat, just couldn’t …….but any real passion for the national side has been diluted so much that its our bhoys and them alone that keep any Scottish fixture relevant in any way.

     

     

    It seems a lifetime away when when the prospect of a Scotland game would get the dander up.

     

     

    I blame the huns and give credit to social media for affording everyone a broader view.

     

     

    HH

  15. PS – the only entertainment now is usually Alec Ahauf’s post match incoherent ramble through every mis-remembered, cliche-ridden, Largs handbook class handouts…………..

     

     

     

    Aye.

  16. In the Brexit ` We must respect theReferendum Vote` argument,the best I have come up with so far is: Must we respect the verdict if a falsely informed jury find an innocent man guilty?

     

     

    Any better suggestions?

     

    JJ

     

     

    PS I am not arguing for or against Brexit here; just that `respect` point.

  17. Can’t see any reason to wish corrupt cheats to prosper.

     

     

    Only encourages them and provides some wonderful deflection from their crimes against the game.

  18. Hot Smoked

     

     

    Falsely informed?

     

     

    “Liam Fox has said a post-Brexit free trade deal with the EU should be the “easiest in human history”.

  19. When I lived in England, I felt that the support of the England Football team was angrily expressed and contained more than a hint of xenophobia whilst support of Scotland was expressed in a happy fashion.

     

    I don`t think that is the case now.I feel The Establishment ( I include the MSSM in that) is more interested in looking after Sevco than in nurturing the National side.

     

    JJ

  20. Dead easy, these trade deals.

     

     

    “After eight years of back and forth negotiations, Indonesia and Australia have signed a long-awaited free trade deal.

     

     

    It will open new markets and opportunities for Australia’s agricultural exporters, as well as the services sector.

     

     

    But there are still some hurdles to cross before businesses can reap the benefits.”

  21. morning bhoys from a sunny Cheshire,,ok for what its worth I hope Scotland win, but if they don’t i wont be shedding any tears.hh,

  22. Beatbhoy

     

    Indeed….and there are plenty more examples.

     

    I am looking for a stronger analogy than my Jury example.

     

    JJ

  23. Because it has been mentioned on here, I visited the BBC site to gain more information on the Kazakhstan V Scotland game. Apart from the fixture list, nothing.

     

    JJ

  24. Hot Smoked

     

     

    A Lemming expressing doubt being told to get on with it, it’s the will of the peeeeeeepuuuuuuuuuuul. Thud!

  25. Apparently talking to oneself and madness are closely related. That being so, I1ll be off now and leave you with little number:

     

    A cat awaiting the result of its scan is told;

     

     

    ” Bad news, I`m afraid. It is curiosity.”

     

     

    Cheerio for now,

     

     

    JJ

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