Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn

My vanquished opponent

Friends, come gather for the future is here. It is bold, it is fearless, it transcends the physical and ethereal worlds. It stands firm, chest out, and defies resistance. All hail my new 3-5-2 nerd togger formation.
There are some issues - Howard is still occasionally awful - but the overall effect is ace.
But the problem of Everton's lumbering attacking moves is no more - where once there was Cahill stood in the middle waiting for Fellaini to amble along, now there are players zooming everywhere. Overlaps, diagonal runs, defenders left flailing - it's all here.
Remember United battering Norwich at Carrow Road in about 92? It's like that.
The line up is: Howard. Back three of (right to left) Heitinga, Jerjelka, Distain. Rodwell and Fellaini in the middle. Arteta on the right with Baines on the left, then Cahill behind Saha (left) and Beckford. The former Leeds man misses as many as he scores (at least) but he is murder to knock off the ball, and he is quick - a novelty for Everton, nerd or real.
The beauty of this formation is you always have bodies in the attacking half, while the three at the back are reasonably solid.
Fellaini and Rodwell are always available for a pass while in possession and also make it difficult for opposition nerd troops to get through the middle.
I've actually tweaked it a touch from the 3-5-2 in the formations list but I can't remember what I did - possibly pushing Cahill a bit further forward. You getting this, ladies?
I've sacrificed some possession - with 4-5-1 I was having all the ball but not scoring - but it's worth it for the increased number of scoring chances. A key point as the nerd Toffees miss an awful lot.
Possible the best thing is Baines - playing this far forward he can get some ace crosses in. He's also quick enough to get back and defend.
Arteta is still a problem and he's there mainly for free kicks, but Heitinga is just behind when the nerd Spaniard is shrugged aside by some nameless Spurs oik.
Does this formation really work? Put it this way, against nerd Liverpool I now expect to win, whereas before I had half a chance. I think I've lost once against them since playing this way. It works against most teams but Chelsea are trickier, I often revert to 4-3-1-2 for them.
In the last few days - yes, this is a scientific study - I have stuffed Liverpool (several times), Bayern Munich, Roma, Lazio, Marseille, PSG, Spurs, Villa, Arsenal, City and more. All with 3-5-2 for at least a third of the game - a good nerder knows one must occasionally tweak to counter events in play.
So there it is my fellow tough guys who have no trouble talking to girls - this is my gift to you. Cherish it, tweak it, enjoy it. To the nerdmobile!

The Cartoon Museum, dodgy dealings, and more!

If

The Guardian might be a load of old shite these days with its simpering bullshit columns - oh, the schools in Lar-de-dar Lane in Hampstead are just awful and my poor little kids (who are all called fucking Jack, Henry, or Jacasta) can't get soya milk on their porridge - and its ridiculously earnest football reporters and page after page of Zoe fucking Williams and Marina Hyde, but Steve Bell remains brilliant.
I went the Cartoon Museum on Saturday to see the Bell Epoque, which is on until 24 July.
It's nice to see work like that up close, and big. There's classic Ifs (right), those big ones he does, and some old stuff (including an appalling one based on himself - I think - when he was a teacher) with explanations and notes.
There's a sign up saying for copyright reasons you can't take pictures of individual exhibits but you can of the place in general. I don't think legally they can stop you taking the pictures, displaying them seems to be the problem. Well stuff 'em. If they want to over-react then I'll listen.
Also on display is the rejection note The Guardian sent Bell in 1978 and some sketch pads and that. Chuck in some Viz, Beano and Dandy stuff upstairs and you're laughing for £5.50

Woof!

After going there I stepped inside to shelter from the rain and take nourishment, and noticed these two blighters up to no good (possibly). The chap on the left is sheltered in a doorway, the fellow talking to him sports what appears to be a waterproof coat, but what of the poor pooch? He's drenched!
I then returned home where, the very next day, I saw one of those Boris Bikes outside Lewisham Library - stitch that, The Man. And later that night I took a 7(seven)-0 cuffing as nerd Everton versus nerd Manchester United. I pulled the plug in the last second. You know, for spite.
The Cartoon Museum is at 35 Little Russell Street, London WC1A 2HH
http://www.cartoonmuseum.org/

Up yours, Boris

Last night's nerd togger - bastard bollocks crap

The nerd council

Don't lose thy cool - the first rule of nerding. I smashed it to smithereens last night as I swore and snarled my way through four straight defeats.

After a run of one loss in seven I moved up a level, only to lose the next four. 

Clearly I reached the top of my nerd bounce and am now condemned to bump along at the bottom of the stinking cesspit that is online nerding. O! Take me back level 21! But alas, it doesn't work that way. It's like the Mafia, we all know when we join that the only way out is death.

They were all close games, and all as Everton, but then the unbeaten run were all close too. 

By the end of the last one I was a croaking, teary, sweary shambles. Yelping and gesticulating pathetically at the screen as Arteta got brushed off the ball yet again. He's only in there for the free kicks, at which he's ace. The rest - ABJECT SHIT.

I've tweaked my nerd Everton to read thus (4-5-1): Howard, who is awful, then in defence (from right) Neville, Jerjelka, Distain, Baines. Midfield: Arteta, Fellaini, Rodwell, Guaye (or Coleman), then Cahill just behind Saha. This can switch to 4-3-1-2 with Beckford up front and Guaye dropping out, with Cahill behind the front two. Ye gods, even in nerd-chat that is a nerdy thing to write.

Anyway after narrowly losing to Manchester United, Manchester City and Chelsea I was up against nerd Liverpool, who I pulverised. But nerd Everton's lack of firepower, combined with Howard's unerring ability to let shots go straight through him, meant a 1-0 defeat, courtesy of a 90th-minute spawner from one of those anonymous little shits they stuff their wretched team with. 

Seconds later Mrs Biff Mercifully came home from work, so I pulled the plug - no stats for you, nerd Liverpool! You too Dalglish, you wanker. I know you're reading this.

Last night's nerd togger, la Francais edish

Polite

The problem with going nerd Everton is they aren't quite good enough all over the pitch so, as happened last night, you can be all over someone but still lose. Missed chances combined with shit defending equals Everton 2 - 3 Liverpool after being two up and coasting, and some intense swearing.

Really you can only play a team that's ranked similar or worse than Everton's, fairly generous, current four stars on the Fifa11 rating (out of five).

And so it was that I faced an appalling Paris St Germain 'outfit' last night. This lad was hopeless, not helped by his lumbering team, and I was two up fairly quickly. The first a belter from the edge of the box by Saha, the second a routine Cahill header.

As I suspected he might this cat pulled the plug at half time. I assumed he was French from the team he picked so I sent him the message above, 'vous est tres merde' which is actually 'you is very shit', not as I thought, 'you are very shit.' 

But note the use of the 'vous' form of 'you'. Even in battle we're still gentlemen. I don't know this blighter so he gets the 'vous' form. 

Not polite

To which he replied with this: 'ta mere est une pute', meaning 'your mother is a whore', which aside from accuracy issues (she isn't, she's a part-time lecturer) where does he get off with his 'tu' form? Massively over-familiar and it soured the entire evening. 

Last night's nerd togger - back in the saddle

A picture from Brighton

After an absence of two months from the online nerding arena I have returned. I was drunk and signed up again and within minutes remembered why I binned it off. The bad connections, the piss-taking of opponents, the replay watchers, the smart-arses, the endless stuffings. By gar I missed it!

First up nerd Everton took on nerd Villa and I bashed this prick's brains in - ol' skool! Three Cahill headers cancelling out an Ashley Young opener.

Rematch? Don't mind if I do. So he went Man City and I went Atletico Madrid and again I was all over him, but tellingly, couldn't put the nerd ball in the nerd net. Whereas everything my foe hit turned to goals. A 5-0 reverse. 

On to the decider and, even now, I don't know where this came from - I didn't think I could do it, never saw myself as a meddler in the black arts - but he went Real Madrid, and I thought 'fuck it' and went Manchester United. Anathema to me. I detest everything about them, even in nerd form. They're no Liverpool, but even so.

I can only put this calming of my ire down to occasional retweets I've read by that human representation of stone cladding, Wayne Rooney, where he comes across as irritatingly alright. You can follow the life of a plain talking millionaire farm hand on the popular social network site, his 'handle' is: @I'mastupidmoronwithanuglyfaceandbigbuttandmybuttsmellsandIliketokissmyownbutt.

And it has to be said, nerd United have just the right blend of speed, skill and massiveness to make them pretty good. Goals from Giggs and Hernandez put me in control and despite a late one from Ronaldo or someone there was never any danger. 

But the victory was tainted, sure it all counts in the nerd annals, but for me this was a stretch too far and a reminder that victory is not all. 

Last night's nerd togger - chums

Friends

I've started on the 'career' mode of Fifa 11 so havent' been online nerding as much, although as you can see from my correspondence, I've made some firm friends.
On the manager mode I can't sign any players or score any goal. I've started as Southend United which doesn't help, but man it's difficult.
Anyway last night I decided to have one dabble as nerd Everton against nerd Liverpool. And as wins go this was about as straightforward as it gets.
But don't be fooled by the impressive tackle count (20/3 in Ev favour) into thinking this was some 'dogs of war' battle. This was nerding at its liquid best.
Nerd Liverpool, like their real (but still nerdy) counterparts, really only have two players (Gerrard and Torres), and Gerrard's not that good.
Heitinga and Jerjelka were impressive at the back, never allowing Torres a sniff, while just in front Fellaini loped about, greedily snaffling then liberally sprinkling possession.
The Blues went ahead after Fellaini found Yakubu - playing just behind Saha - who slipped Cahill in down the left. He nipped ahead of Carragher to square for Pienaar who smashed home.

Dominance

Nerd Liverpool just couldn't get a touch and my opponent tried booting his way to a draw. There's something grimly satisfying in seeing a tiny Steven Gerrard flailing on the ground after a pixelated Leighton Baines knocks the ball past him before collecting with ease. The spoiling didn't work and 10 minutes into the second half Saha skipped away down the left before crossing deep into the box.
Cahill, immense throughout in a deeper role than usual, powered into the box before cutting in front of the defender to head home from close range. Kop end too.

Last night's nerd togger - a new dawn?

Th'Allianz Arena (pic courtesy of Richard Bartz)

I've been nerding on and off for a few years now and I thought I'd seen it all. Well not all but some.
Occasionally though something comes along and - BLAMMO - it stops you dead.
Last night's first two nerd-offs were the usual blend of swearing and disproportionate upset, but the third was different.
It started off much as any other game, my nerd Everton were getting a bit of a chasing off someone else's nerd Bayern. They'd had much more of the ball but I was threatening and, at 0-0, it could have gone either way Brian.
Then it happened, at half time a message flashed up on my screen. It read simply: '##### wants to be your friend'.
I was stunned.
Here were two gladiators locked in to-the-nerd-death combat and yet - and yet - my foe was reaching out to me, as if to say 'when all this is over...' I took a mighly slurp from my presumptuously-opened victory beer to steady myself.
Six simple words, cast almost nonchalantly in my direction, but they represented so much more. Are we not men? (Are we Devo) - had I been so blinded by nerd blood lust all these years?
Had I lost sight of what makes online nerding great -  the sense of community? The feeling of belonging, of family, of the cosmic interconnectedness of all things (nerd)?
I shook my head a little, a wry smile playing on these full, kissable lips, and gasped at life's ability to surprise. The teams were back out. The game resumed.
Second half - beat his brains out 3-0, refused the request and sent my customary 'ha ha ha!' victory message. Because that's how I roll baby. Proper.

Previously:
Middle ground
A day of days
Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins 

Diary of a squad player, 5

Press day. 'Very much so.'

Monday, 29 November
Training was murder today, no ball work just running and weights (separately) because we're all 'streaks of piss' apparently.
Atmosphere was a bit low, even Stibbo sitting in a plate of pasta after Mucker put it on his chair didn't get much of a laugh. Rog tried to lighten the mood with one of his big bertha farts but no one was interested. He's such a trouper.
Press day ahead of tomorrow's match but no one turned up again. If it's not the Premier League the nationals aren't interested and the locals all go to press on Wednesday, so it was just the boss and Phil, the press officer, sat there looking at each other. They have to give it 10 minutes before giving up so they just sit there. It's painful to watch.
Then Phil has to interview the gaffer for the club website. Phil's a nice bloke but the gaffer keeps calling him Pete. And he's been doing it too long for Phil to say anything now. When you watch the vidos you've got the boss, when he isn't saying 'the football club' every 20 seconds, calling this bloke by the wrong name while he just takes it.
Jegger's birthday today and he's going round everyone to see if they fancy doing anything. Sure enough he ends up at me. I say I fancy staying in but he says just come round and play Fifa. He's only just moved here so it must be hard not knowing anyone, probably just doesn't want to be alone on his birthday.
Weather forecast is for snow tomorrow - if it keeps up and Saturday's match is off, Mucker, Ribbsy and Johnno are on about going to New York for the weekend. I fancy it but I'm a bit skint - do hospitals still buy sperm?
I haven't had a shit in three days.

Previously:
Part 4
Part 3 
Part 2
Part 1

Last night's nerd togger - middle ground

The real (!) Estadio Santiago Bernabeu

Two wins, two defeats. Leaving me with five more defeats than wins - a record I will never break as I'm not quite good enough to get to the next level, so I'll keep bumping along like this. 
It's quite sobering to realise I've peaked at a pretty poor level of a game played on a toy by kids who are going to all get much better than me because they learn how to do all the flicks and that. 
I'm waving them on to better things, like Withnail in that horrendous film which people who want to appear cleverer than they really are say is their favourite film, even though it isn't actually funny and they nearly wet themselves watching Trains, Planes and Automobiles. 
Anyway the two defeats were close, (City 1-2 Chelsea, Everton 0-1 Arsenal), but then a couple of rip-snorting wins, first Everton went two up in 20 minutes to Villa before my opponent pulled the plug, incurring my customary 'ha ha ha' message - no exclamation, I'm not an animal. 
Up next the nitwit I was playing went Real Madrid so I plumped for Barcelona. With 10 minutes gone his keeper passes it out short, but David Villa nips in and smashes in a shot. It's saved but comes back to Villa who hits the bar with his next effort. Just as I was about to bellow some major language at the telly Villa prods home.
Then my opponent appears to stop playing so I just pass it round at the back. A message comes in saying, 'I don't like the shirts,' - what existential mind games are afoot? But then he hits back and tries to make a game of it - to no avail. I triumph 1-0 but best of all I could hear his every foul-mouthed splutter as nerd Barca eased through his nerd Real like a hot blade through a trapped, whimpering pug. 


Previously:
A day of days

Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins

Last night's nerd togger - a day of days!

BOOM!

The usual derby day recipe of mistakes, nerves and unbearable tension was cast aside at Biff Mansions as Nerd Everton BEAT THE LIVING PISS out of nerd Liverpool, played on this occasion by a young Spanish twerp. I know this because I could hear his every anguished yelp blurting out of my telly like a strangled digital fart. The mayday call of the doomed.
No one could have lived with my nerd powers on this day as we tore in to the reds from the off, forcing three quick corners. Nowt came of them but it was only a matter of time before el Lipewl's defence fell.
When the breakthrough came it was quick and deadly. A smart move down the left saw Pienaar whip over a cross, the defence looked to have it covered but BOOM there was Yakubu to muscle in and head home at the near post. Chances came and went for Everton but no more first-half goals as Liverpool limped over the line with all the force of an old man's wank.
The second half was more of the same but this time Liverpool had no answer to the sheer force of will that was this nerd display, as first Cahill and then Saha blasted home to put the blues out of sight. The feared, fabled Liverpool late rally never came, instead it was Everton who poured forward searching for more. And with seconds to go, Yakubu drifted in from the left before hammering home the killer blow. At this point, with his dreams in tatters and the score at 4-0, Pepe pulled the plug.

Previously:

Up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Fridge

A right royal bumming

A grim tale

Have that Fritz

No name

It begins

Last night's nerd togger - up yours, Spurs and Bayern

Vanquished

Incredible scenes at Biff mansions as I extended my unbeaten run to four (four) games. First up an abortive game (my opponent pulled the after he went two down early on) as nerd Everton against nerd Spurs.
Then a real humdinger against nerd Bayern Munich. A close game saw me go two up (both Saha) early on only for my opponent to equalise with 20 minutes left. But straight from the kick off Saha struck again with what proved to be the decisive goal. Right at the end my vanquished foe pulled the plug - he was only one down, he had the ball and the whistle hadn't gone! What kind of nerd is that?
Well one of the good things about this game is the layout of the Xbox's 'virtual' keyboard, which makes it very easy to send a 'ha ha ha!' message, which I did. In your face, Frenchie!

Previously:
Fridge
A right royal bumming
A grim tale
Have that Fritz
No name
It begins

Last night's nerd togger - language, failure and festering fridges

Floating Frank

First up a tonking for me as nerd Chelsea at the hands of nerd Manchester United. It sticks in the throat of some nerd purists for an Evertonian to play as Chelsea but sometimes it's about getting the result. That didn't work this time and I was pure shite.
My opponent asked for a rematch and like a fool I said yes - never do this if you've just got beaten because your nerd dander is too up to guarantee success and you end up fouling everything that moves while screaming even worse things at the screen. (Example: 'Fucking arse your dad up the cunt, you cunt.' And no one likes to hear that.)
This time though he went nerd Liverpool and I went nerd Everton. Torres put the wanker one up but goals either side of half time from Saha and Arteta put me ahead only for that gobshite wanker poncey little shitstain cuntbucket Torres to equalise. I declined another rematch as I had to go the shops. 
On my return and after I'd put the shopping away and cleaned the fridge out - properly this time - in an attempt to get rid of the smell which has the poor bemused appliance in its grip I had another go. Again as nerd Everton only this time some punk ass kid goes nerd Vitesse Arnhem, a team ranked a full star lower than the nerd Toffees.
Now if you're going to do this - play as a crap team - you better bring your game or prepare for the nerd beat down. Because no matter how good you (think you) are the players are that bit slower and weedier so it's mainly a matter of keeping the ball and being patient. Which I did to ease my foe aside 3-1 (Saha, Cahill, Yakubu) after Grant Lederhosen had put them one up.
The fridge still smells though. It is most perplexing.

Previously:
A right royal bumming
A grim tale
Have that Fritz
No name
It begins

Last night's nerd togger - a right royal bumming

Wriggly little wanker

No other word for it. And this was actually the sum total of the weekend's nerding, as mrs Biff was present the entire time and takes a dim view of the nerding lexicon (eg: 'CUNT! I make no apologies for that.'). Plus she walks in front of the screen and starts asking me things, demanding I pause the game - while still in front of the screen. We only get three pauses, woman! Each is precious and not to be wasted on why I haven't fitted the spotlight in the kitchen.
So I took my chance when she was in the bath and it was a calamity - the game, the bath seemed to produce the required results - as nerd Arsenal hammered my nerd Everton 6-0.
I actually started off well, passing the ball around nicely but never really threatening. Gradually the nerd Gunners got into the game and I committed the ULTIMATE SIN OF NERDING - I lost my temper. Once you start charging round sliding in it's all over. And so it proved here with that BASTARD Arshavin wriggling his troll features through seemingly at will. It would be no surprise to see him hopping around with a mini pitchfork defending his nerd gold, if I was zapped into the Fifaworld, Tron style. That mangled metaphor stands.
The lumbering defensive duo of Heitinga and Jerjelka couldn't get near the little shit. Him and that fucking farmer's boy Fabregas. Two quick goals made it 2-0 at half time and I considered pulling the plug but I thought if I regained my composure I could get back into it.
Within five minutes of the restart they were four up (the second of which drew the remark above) and Heitinga was sent off, to be followed shortly after by Baines. The capitulation was finished with time to spare as forkboy Arshavin added two more.

Last night's nerd togger - a grim tale

Oh fuck off

I don't know why I ever play as nerd Everton against nerd spawny-horrible-only-got-two-good-players-but-still-always-beat-me Liverpool. But I did last night.
Bad start with wankbag Torres wriggling through before planting one in the top corner - Howard didn't even move. And it was downhill from there - I couldn't get a kick, of anything.
As a sidebar to the main event the actual Liverpool were playing the actual Napoli, so at half time in my game I flicked on to Channel 5 (Was that Stu 'I could crush a grape' Francis doing the commentary?). Anyway the Italians were one up but from the little I saw Liverpool seemed to be getting back into it, once Gerrard was on.
The second half of my game was more of the same with the nerd Reds swarming all over me - my yelps and convulsions on the couch failing to transmit into action on the nerd pitch - and they were soon two up (that bastard Gerrard). While my opponent watched every single fucking replay I flicked 5 on to see the real Gerrard had put Liverpool 2-1 up. L story S, both versions of Liverpool scored again.
Next up was nerd Everton v nerd Newcastle and this time the game was really quick, players and passes zipping all over the place. Tim Cahill put me one up early on and I was battering them. Cue Tim Howard, contrary to my instructions, coming screaming out for a ball he has no chance of getting and it's 1-1 (Andy Carroll).
He does it again, 1-2, then again, 1-3 - three goals in six minutes from that fucking longshanks waltsers worker who looks like he never goes anywhere without his 'bag of cans'. I felt like I'd been on a date with the brute. Then Heitinga heads an own goal for 1-4 and I could contain my rage no more and booted fuck out of one of his players (with the ball barely even on screen) so Heitinga was sent off.
To round it all off this bastard I was playing has his keeper drop the ball in the area and starts doing keepy-ups, so I pulled the plug. No stats for you (we love the stats at the end of the game) if you act like a gobshite.
By now my face was bright red and I was sweating with sheer impotent rage, and my mrs was due home. What's worse - to be caught like this and accused of wanking in the living room or admitting the truth?
Anyway I reasoned there was time for one more so played out a 2-2 draw as nerd City v nerd Spurs. Again the game was running slow - hang on, 'letters home from the soldiers'?! Is that a real record? Oh fuck off - yes, the game was sluggish. I'm wondering if it's my HD cable? Anyway it was pretty even, with me annoyingly equalising twice a minute after my opponent went ahead - HA! Despite myself I went for extra time and pens - penalties on Fifa11 are impossible, especially in shoot-outs. Naturally I dipped out in a blaze of players slipping and smashing it over (lost 1-2 on pens). And mrs Biff was none the wiser!

Last night's nerd togger - have that Fritz!

Twinkletoes 

First up was a 1-1 draw as nerd Everton v nerd Liverpool. Notable for nought except my increasingly excessive, aggressive and, it must be said, inventive swearing as my players seemed to run slower and slower as the game ground on. Not sure if it's just that my opponents are better, having reached the giddy heights of level 14, but their players seem quicker to the ball than my lot, who stand their waiting for it - especially Yakubu. I've put Rodwell at right back to add a bit of zip but to no avail. Next up a defeat to nerd Chelsea as nerd City (City are my alternate team at the mo, or Chelsea). I got absolutely battered and the worse it got the more I'd physically move the controller in the direction I wanted to go, like it's a Nintendo Wii or an errant child on a lead. This was followed by another turn as nerd City and this time it was nerd Bayern Munich in our way. I was getting absolutely walloped so switched to a five man midfield to try and stem the tide and grind out a draw as their tippy tappy twinkletoes gobshites Robben and Frankenstein tried to dance their way through to goal.  The whole game seemed to be played in and around my area then, in the 89th minute, Lescott finds Silva who skips round his marker and makes for the byline leaving nerd defenders trailing. He whips the ball in and there arriving at the near post is Ballotelli who heads home to send the home crowd (me in my undies) wild. I may have dropped to my knees and double v-d the telly at this point.  Bayern, nine shots, eight on target. City, one shot, one on target. I declined the rematch and repaired to bed. Apropos of nowt, but I don't like having my testicles touched. Certainly not in, say, the supermarket, but also during sexual interplay. This may seem an odd thing to add here but is there ever a good time to bring it up? (Incidentally, if you can offer any help as to why the other lot are always quicker than me please do. Nerd togger, not the other thing.)

Last night's Fifa nerding

His nerd version failed me

Three games last night -  two draws and one BASTARD defeat. The loss came at the hands of iwanroberts9's nerd Liverpool, presumably the former Norwich player of the same name. Or possibly his stalker.
Anyhoo he went one up inside two minutes against my nerd Everton but I hit back on seven through Yakubu. Only for him (Torres again - the WANKER) to go 2-1 up on nine. The rest of the match was fairly even although Saha managed to smash over an open goal after tackling Reina just outside the box.
I can take defeat but right at the death the bastard has his goalie run the ball into the corner, wait for my lot to swarm on him like a slavering pack of diet-club lasses who've spotted an unclaimed eclair. Then he smashes it out! Right out of the screen! So I pulled the plug on the blaggard. No stats for you, Iwan. If that is your real name
Next up was a draw (as nerd City) v nerd Marseille. Very even - if dirty game - this one with slidies going in everywhere. Nerd City are an interesting one in that they're ace at the back, and have Tevez who's brilliant, but they have too many lumpy midfielders - yes YOU, Barry, de Jong and Toure. A horrible game and I can't remember who scored.
Rounding the whole thing off was a brilliantly spiteful 1-1 draw between nerd Juventus and nerd Everton. This one had the lot and was particularly enjoyable for me because the GOBSHITE I was playing was one of those flicky-tricky fucks who thinks he's it but who probably uses his t-shirt as a napkin when he has his tea and is sat there with skids on his couch because he's too FUCKING FAT to wear kecks and never goes out anyway so what's the point of even putting undies on? Has a pint glass half filled with water and black with the sickly goo of extinguished, and floating, ciggies. Nailed.
He went one up but I hit back second half and spent the rest of the game wacking fuck out of his players. None of which impressed my mrs who wanted me to paint the radiator in the bedroom.

A few things about Fifa 11 nerd togger make me angry

Specifically online play. There's something horrible about losing to someone you can't see. Especially when, as my mrs is always keen to point out, it could actually be a little girl. I get massively wound up by it - more so than watching Everton in real life. There's been occasions when I've been so tense after a few matches - usually defeats - I've had to masturbate to calm down. (Fifa, not at Goodison)
The worse pricks are the ones with their little game face at the bottom of the screen - and it's always got a fucking beard on it. I dont put the headphones on because I'm not a complete weirdo but sometimes the intercom sound comes out through the telly speakers and you can hear them laughing at you. Usually in Spanish. It's ghastly.
Of course it's bad form to pull the plug on a game when you're getting smashed but sometimes, for the good of your blood pressure, it's for the best. And some people just play as absolute wankers, fouling all the time and taking the piss - one replay is your lot, any more and you're acting the wanker. In which case a plug-pull is fair game.
If you bail on a game early you quite often get a text message through, to the effect of 'ha ha ha'. I usually reply saying their mum has just turned up so I had to go.


You're a Fifa cunt if:
You press 'ready' repeatedly while I'm picking my team
You watch every single fucking replay
You slide in on everylittlefuckingthing
You timewaste with more than a minute to go
You go as Liverpool (incidentally it's interesting the correlation between real life turd teams and Fifa ones: Liverpool - with Gerrard and Torres being especially realistic, I love hacking those bastards down), Manchester United and Arsenal are reassuringly loathesome

My top five post-defeat nerd togger shouts at the telly:

Fucking catch aids you cunt!
Fuck it up your mother's scratchy arse tunnel!
Fucking cersplumodgeee! (got my words mixed up on this one)
Wanker!
Shit fucker wank tablet!