All right, mates? How am I? Don’t ask! What a flippin’ HELL of a week your little mate Craig’s just had! What? Beyond flippin’ belief! Don’t take my word for it, mind. Oh no. Just have a butchers at these excerpts from me diary:
SUNDAY: I cannot believe it. I cannot flippin’ well flamin’ believe it! There I was, right, putting the meat in the oven, getting the potatoes out the freezer, all of that malarkey, right, when the doorbell goes. Ding-Dong. Open the door. Two flippin’ policemen were standing there. ‘Is you dad in, sonny?’ Eh? ‘Mr Craig Bellamy, the controversial footballer’. That’s me! ‘Oh, well, sir, we’re sorry to disturb you on a Sunday morning but we’ve received a complaint’. What?? ‘It has been alleged that you attempted to drown a young lad in large quantities of the milky pro-bacteria product known, I believe, as Yakult’. What a load of absolute CONKERS! After a decent Sunday lunch – meat, a couple of Auntie Bessie’s mini Yorkshire puddings, quite a few roast potatoes, plenty of gravy, a bit more meat – I went into the garage and painted over the scratch on me car. As I had the enamel out I thought I may as well do a few more odd jobs, so I went off and painted the back door knob, the downstairs loo chain and, just for a laugh, a couple of old Yakult pots. I have to say they all looked much better. The loo chain was ruined immediately, because I forgot meself and had a wee straight after painting it and then pulled the flippin’ chain, but, other than that minor disaster, everything else was looking very bright and smart, so I got some more paint – a sample can of Dulux ‘crushed raspberry’ – and painted the kitchen clock, the toaster, the bread bin and an umbrella. It was quite therapeutic, actually, and I felt there was a distinct improvement with all of these items. Then the flippin’ missus pokes her nose in: ‘Craig Ivor Bassey Bellamy! Get the turpentine out IMMEDIATELY and remove all that HORRIBLE paint or I swear I will call the police back!!’ Flippin’ women!
MONDAY: I woke up in quite a contemplative mood today. Maybe it was the smell of turpentine – which was absolutely flippin’ AWFUL – or maybe it was just me being a bit more celtic than usual, but I felt unusually philosophical. ‘I won’t have any meat for breakfast,’ I told the missus. ‘I just want to have a little bit of a think’. ‘Excuse me, luvver,’ she said, ‘I am about to flippin’ faint!’ I explained to her that I just wanted to have a bit of a ‘reflect,’ you know – a wee bit of a ponder. Them police boys really got the old hackles up yesterday, so I needed to calm meself down again, and generally have a wonder about what it’s all about. Felt much better after that. Had some meat and then off to Melwood. Dudek tried to get us all to eat some borscht afterwards, claiming it was scouse! I TOLD the lads this would happen if Diao left on loan! No one listens to Craig! Missed the crucial last ten minutes of Diagnosis Murder because ‘someone’ made an almighty racket shoving SIX copies of NUTS (all of them the same edition I already have) through me letterbox. I wonder who THAT could have been? (Actually, I know – and I will get me own back, don’t you worry!)
TUESDAY: In the absence of the good chef Diao, I decided that it was high time for a Bellamy culinary special: Welsh Rarebit! Okay, here’s the basic recipe:
2 pieces white bread
Grated cheese
1 raw egg
3-4 drops Worcester sauce
1/4 teaspoon mustard
Pinch salt/pepper
Method
Mix the grated cheese (enough to cover 2 pieces bread) with the egg, Worcester sauce and 1/4 teaspoon mustard.
Season with salt/pepper.
When well mixed in together, toast the bread and spread mixture evenly on top and grill till brown.
Now here’s the twist: place a large bit of roasted MEAT on top! Try it - I swear it is absolutely flippin’ superb!
WEDNESDAY: Bordeaux tonight. For some bizarre reason we had to play ‘em in FRANCE! I didn’t even know there were any military problems in Italy! I must get meself better informed. Even Carra seems to know more than I do about current affairs and all that malarkey. He reads the Daily Mail every day! ‘You still got whistled offside, Craig,’ said the Gaffer afterwards. ‘I know, Boss – it’s them Italians, they have no flippin’ idea of the flamin’ rules!’ He held his head in sympathy. He knows I’ve been through a HECK of a lot recently.
THURSDAY: The missus went out for a manicure (which, even though she’s got tiny little feet, takes about two hours to do!) so I thought I’d get the paint out and have another go. Opened the garage: no paint!!! Every last sample pot gone! I couldn’t flippin’ believe it! Absolutely flippin’ furious I was! So I decided to go to flippin’ B&Q and get some more. Went back out the garage, and, suddenly, SPLASH! I was flippin’ covered from head to flippin’ toe in whitewash! I could hardly BREATHE! Finally wiped me eyes clear, squinted around and saw, of all people, Lol the paperboy’s dad, standing there with an empty bucket, shouting, ‘Throw bacteria-friendly bacteria yoghurt all over me son, will you? Well, monkey boy, how do YOU like it???’ Then he ran off, with me standing there, arms outstretched, incredulous grin on me face, shouting, ‘Oi! OI! How dare you, sir! How dare you! I’m going to get your son Lol sent back to China! Oh yes! Oi! This isn’t even Yakult, you idiot! It’s-it’s…’ I think I must have passed out at this stage from the fumes, as the next thing I knew the missus was slapping me face shouting, ‘Craig! Craig! What happened, luvver? The dog’s been licking you for the last half-hour – he thought you were some sort of sugar mouse! Why did you go and paint yourself white??’ I got up – slowly, like – sighed, and said, ‘Because, luvver, things have gone beyond the PALE!!!’ Then I marched off into the house. Very pleased with that pun, I was, especially as I felt a bit sick at the time. Of course, the missus followed me in, shouting, ‘That doesn’t make any sense, luvver,’ but I just turned the shower up a bit more and drowned her out. I was in no mood for such stupidity. I wish someone would manicure her BRAIN!
FRIDAY: Breakfast time. Just finished me meat. Knock-Knock! Someone at the door. It was the paper boy. ‘Oh, morning, Lol’. ‘Did you know some idiot's covered your door bell with paint?’ I was dead cool: ‘I am aware of it, yes’. ‘Well, that’s why I had to knock. Cos the bell don’t work’. I made a point of sounding bored: ‘Fascinating’. That got him! ‘Er, well, here’s your Daily Express, your four copies of Wales Today, your OK, your three copies of Nuts and your five copies of Popular Mechanics’. I did not bat an eyelid. ‘Thanks very much’. Closed the door! You could hear him doing nothing! Dead confused he was. I know it’s costing me a flippin’ fortune, cos he’s bringing more and more duplicates just to try and crack me, but it’s worth it just to see him fume. I was laughing to meself when I realised he hadn’t brought the new Guns & Gunmen. Absolutely furious! Oh well, I’ll have to get a copy at Tesco when I get the next week’s meat. Trained later at Melwood. The gaffer said I looked pale, and should have a blood test. I explained it was just whitewash, but he didn’t seem to understand. Do they have whitewash in Spain? I must ask Carra.
SATURDAY: Flippin’ HECK! I only went and strained me calf, didn’t I! It was a present from me Mam to remind me of Wales, and I was playing with it in the garden, sprinting and trying to get it to kick the ball and such like. ‘Peep! Offside, Robbie!’ I was shouting. That’s what I call the calf, ‘Robbie’. Private joke! Anyway,, suddenly Robbie pulls up all abrupt like. He’s tweaked something. Then the missus calls out: ‘Hey, luvver, it’s your boss on the phone asking how the anaemia is’. She gets everything mixed up, that woman! I said, ‘Tell him I can’t get to the phone for a bit because I’ve just strained me calf!’ An hour later, right, I’m watching Football Focus, right, just digesting me meat, when I hear someone say, ‘Craig Bellamy is out of the match tomorrow due to his strained calf’!!! Absolutely flippin’ FURIOUS, I was. You know, arms outstretched, incredulous expression on me face, saying, ‘Oi! OI!!’ What a HECK of a day!
