Paperjam

Too much media training in football these days. All the post match interviews are boring as anything, it's all "Well the three points is the most important thing", "At the end of the day that extra bit of quality told", or even "Smithy's put in a great cross and I've manged to get on the end of it." Yawn.

There is the occaisonal rogue in the pack:

• Ferguson sometinmes has his post match snifter a bit early and starts releasing the Glasweigan expletives on Sky.
• Big fat racist Ron Atkinson (although officially not funny anymore) once said of a linesman "I know where he should have put his flag up, and he'd have got plenty of help."
• Comic legend Gordon Strachan, who always had a sarcy line no matter how badly Cov had got stuffed that weekend, e.g. "At tiimes in the second half, we sank so low I felt like Captain Nemo."

The absolute king of the post match media scrum is Plymouth manager Ian Holloway. Armed with a south-west accent and a complete disregard for sensible answers, he dishes out all sorts of eccentric responses to the dull questions that he gets asked by footy journo's. His finest hour is probably the interview where he compared a scruffy QPR win to a night out on the pull, almost surreal in it's brilliance, you can watch it on YouTube here.

Further quotes have been collected together on a Wikipedia page, the product of a mind touched by genius. Take this motivational example: "I don't see the problem with footballers taking their shirts off after scoring a goal? They enjoy it and the young ladies enjoy it too. I suppose thats one of the main reasons women come to football games, to see the young men take their shirts off. Of course they'd have to go and watch another game because my lads are as ugly as sin."

Jane was going to write this up but the poor thing is suffering from memory loss due to the effects of extreme poverty. We're doing all we can, but please help. Just five pounds will buy some menthol fags and just ten will pay for the postage on two unwanted leather coats. A hotline will be set up shortly.

Anyway, last Thursday she drove over to Brum where after a fairly humourless drink in the usually humourous Bacchus bar we have the inevitable noodles before heading to a heaving Academy where the average age is a lot younger than me and the air temperature is rising rapidly.

It's about £12 for three drinks, one of which I didn't order. however it comes in handy for throwing over Jane when she faints after I tell her the price of the round she has just bought.

Larrakin Love come on and do Six Queens which is pretty good, they play a load of stuff off the album, but not Meet Me By The Getaway Car, which I really like.

We slipstream some indie kids to get nearer the front, it really is very busy in here indeed. When DPT arrive things go a bit crazy, and the crowd surges all over the shop to the opening Wondering and Gentry Cove. Looks like I've lost Jane, crowd surfing has kicked off, is that her going over the top? I hope not as the treatment from the bouncers for those reaching the barriers looks a little unfriendly.

Deadwood is great, the crowd is bouncing around and I reckon I've lost about half a stone in sweat so far, it's going in my eyes and stinging like a swine. Some bird drags me almost to the front, before realising that I'm not "Tony", she's not happy.

There goes You Fucking Love It, very good and a welcome Libertines interlude in the shape of The Good Old Days. A bang on the back of the head and here is Jane looking almost as sweaty as me. The trumpet is out and they finish with Bang Bang You're Dead.

There follows a really, really, really dull encore, which cheers up a bit when they conclude with I Get Along, but where is Don't Look Back Into The Sun, or maybe Time For Heroes? Oh well, they are off as the drummer applauds the crowd and we go outside to marvel at just how sweaty we are and I take the piss out of Carl Barat for his rolled up t-shirt sleeves. Jane drives back while laughing at me and the general concensus is that it was Ok but the encore really was total shit.

Totally gutted to find that a re-make of this seminal late 80’s horror classic is soon to be released. The original is great, a stylish road movie cum slasher picture with a fantastic, mesmerising turn from Rutger Hauer as the creepy, almost supernatural title character. It’s so good that you can compare it to his effortlessly brilliant turn in Blade Runner.

In fact The Hitcher is probably the reason for the position I find myself in today. After watching it, my friend Clare and I spent some time going through all the dodgy Rutger Hauer films that we could get at the local video library, instead of doing proper revision for A level exams. It was alright for Clare, she was clever. I ended up bluffing my way through a business studies degree despite having a fantastic knowledge of Blind Fury, Salute of the Jugger and Split Second.

Anyhow, the remake looks like a pile of shit and Sean “100% Blade” Bean is playing the hitcher. Yes, that Sean Bean.

No I’m not adding a link to the fucking trailer. Look for it yourself.