Impact Soccer

let me wright this down while it's still fresh in ma head.

now. the game against ham-kam was rescedueled. thats why we play on a tuesday at 3.30.

so the buss started off at 11.30 from Moss, containing about 40 supporters.
needles to say, its a lot of unemployment in this part of the country. but at least we know how to have our share of fun. we boarded 9 cases of beer and a packet of crisp.
to top it of ,one of the good ol'boys brought his guitar along. no drugs where aloud on this game, so we had to do them BEFORE we left, wich is always a drag. but you know, what can you do?
after three hours or so we arrived Hamar. the town of the olympic ice-scating stuff in 94. you remember that. tonya harding and that crap.

anyway, the security at this stadium (Briskeby), ranks among the most lowest in the atmosphere. even by 1.division standard. the cops (2 blokes and a solid woman)where just present for the second half. the fence surronding us, was being opened by the gards so that ham-kam supporters could pass through infront of us!
we had to use force to get him to close it. and then it was all arms and legs and, man i don't know. we where 1-0 down , and i guess someone got a bit carried away.. the security was repulsing.
Metrocious!
its all due to our selfcontrol and our charming perspective at life, that noone got seriousley hurt.

friend started on the sideline due to simen brenne (twofaced roden, transfers to ffk after the season!)'s latest efforts on the grass. ( i know what your thinking; "whats with this dude, and grass? whats this, a fuckin' junkie?! well i can confirm i have tried it on occation and still do)
and he played a hell of a game. love that geeza! so then after 70 min, jon eirik ødegaard scored once again on a freekick. right up there on the crossroad of the posts. BANG! what a fukn' chill down my neck. unless it was the cheap amphetamin from earlyer on.
we sang "jump for Kælla" and sawdusted that wooden turnstile into memories while peacefully pouging for 20 straight minutes.
ok maybe 10.
5.
oh, and paddy almost wrapped it all up , but missed in the dying seconds
friend came on for some lame ass, and sparked i guess, for the last minutes. half an hour acctually. but our best player today was amin askar from the very town i love. a full bread Mossing! and thank God for integration.
we drawd 1-1, and were all a happy bunch.

ahh, i should have told u; this was a very important game.
Ham-kam was second after ffk and would of course be one step closer to prosperity with a three pointer. for us it wasn't that bad. a win would certify our relegation-denial. a draw would not totaly fuck up eithers oppertunetis.

the ironi is we all want ham-kam to win the league in front of Fredrikstad(ffk)man, we even pat hønefoss on the shoulder. and we're playing them on sunday.so it's mixed emotions going on;
in order to stay alive
we are helping the fiend..

at least we're pretty high up on the drug-statistics

Hey! What's this, Bukowski! Playing the part of the soft-drug-romantic intellectual? Just a pile of horseshit! You're as clean as a bottle of Perrier! The closest you get to drugs is when you sniff your own socks after spending four days in the woods, looking for rare birds! Get a grip son!

(hehe..good one, pigboy. i think they bought it. if you need somemore "horseshit", you know my number)

How did Friend and Bernier play ? I notice that friend didn't start, what's up with that ?

It looks like FFK are moving up ? Is Bernier going with them ?

Winnipeg Fury a écrit :How did Friend and Bernier play ? I notice that friend didn't start, what's up with that ?

It looks like FFK are moving up ? Is Bernier going with them ?

I think that Bernier has a 2 year contract?

friend didn't start ,that is true. LO (the couch) said it was all due to Brenne. he had simply pushed him off the squad. but mind you-just for this game. Ham-Kam's defence suited Brenne, he said.

bernier to ffk?? i can't happen.it can't happen here.
well, acctually it can. my guess is many of our best players will move on, but i don't think patrice is one of them. i mean- to move on. i certanly don't hope so, anyway. he's just what we need. soon as he gets that passing-foot set straight.

Winnipeg Fury a écrit :How did Friend and Bernier play ? I notice that friend didn't start, what's up with that ?

It looks like FFK are moving up ? Is Bernier going with them ?

Sorry, but I wasn't present at the game. It was feeding time for my pigs. Maybe bukowski can give you an answer (if he can clear up the fog between his ears and produce a straght forward reply), after all he was "present" at the game.

When it comes to FFK and the eventuality of Bernier following them up, let's just say that I sincerly don't hope so! And may the town of Fredrikstad burn down, for never to be rebuilt! The club has stated that they are not selling out players after this season, like they did last year. But do we believe them? NOOOOT! Simen Brenne, the player that was used as lonesome forward instead of Friend against Ham-Kam, is the one player most likely to be sold after the season. Fredrikstad is his hometown, alltough he hasn't played for them in his previous career, and if FFK move up, he might be sold to them. He is young, a regular U-21 national and ambitious. God, he's gonna cost them big time!

Yes,friends and farmers, I drink. I’m a drinker. There are many reasons. Do any of them matter? Not really. Not as long as I can get my lips on something that’s gone through the fermentation process. A tankard of ale. A tumbler of scotch. A bathtub of mead. I’m a hard liver. And consequently, I have one. I take my drinking seriously. I get upset when I hear Eric Burdon sing “Spill the wine.” I’ve made arrangements to be cremated and my ashes kept in a Smirnoff bottle. There are many excuses for why I drink. I drink because alcohol makes me feel better. I drink because my local bartender needs to pay off his creditors. I drink because everyone from Bogart to Bukowski to the entire cast of the Bible drank.

I drink because I can’t fly.

I’m drinking right now, canadians. I’m writing at a tavern as I research this boozy communique. My research consists of three boilermakers. Besotting myself with drink in the corner of this dingy watering hole feels the natural thing to do. Sometimes liquor bolsters my ego, or numbs assaults on it. Sometimes it elicits speech more readily than I ordinarily offer. Sometimes, like tonight, it fuels my inspiration.

Excepting my own Bris, the first time I ever got drunk occurred rather late in my youth. I was a senior in high school. i then became the golden god and has been so since.

pigfarmer;
I drink because Jane Seymour doesn’t know I’m alive.

The dreamy mary from tronvik flashed into my life on august 19, 1982. No, I didn’t have to look up that date—I’ve remembered it to these twenty-one long years. I was only thirteen and watching the low-budget telemovie for the eye-popping special effects. But she stole the show—and my heart—with her timeless beauty. And come this august 19, I’ll have drank for a quarter-century without the exquisite Jane Seymour.

I drink to cope with those of the opposite sex who have spurned me. I drink to make myself more attractive to the opposite sex. I drink to make certain members of the opposite sex more attractive to me. I drink because of too many nights spent alone. I drink because too many nights spent with a woman invariably led to mutual unhappiness. I drink to compensate for my insignificant career. Or because I have to worry about anthrax, smallpox, monkey pox, and mad cows.and pigs.

I’ve prayed for snow to contain alcohol. Once during a fight, I yelled, “Not the liver!” Sometimes I get drunk and vote conservative

I drink a lot. My refrigerator is perpetually bristling with beer and my cupboard with schnapps. I spend more than the odd evening on a pub stool. My wallet is ever the lighter for it, but I do enjoy certain returns: Rapidly graying temples and beard; a slight, yet proverbial, paunch; heartburn occasionally intense enough to cause the U.S. Geological Survey concern; countless brain cells forever pickled. I have the suspicion that one day I’ll cut myself and vodka will ooze out. And if a movie of my life ever is filmed, the lead actor will be a fifth of Glenfiddich.

I drink because a black hole at the center of our galaxy means certain death within two billion years.

To be completely honest, I’m not entirely sure why I drink. I’ve given a lot of rationales. I know that for which I seek is not swirling in the bottom of a shot glass. Maybe I drink because the search is too difficult. Or the answer too obscure. But I do know that I drink often. For relaxation. For reward. . I fantasize about being run over by a Guinness-buss. If I ever become engaged, I will register at the local liquor store.

I never approached such contributions as the great poets or footbalers while on the wagon, so is it any wonder I try to drink until my eyes become Xs? The cure for cancer or the riddle of time travel will most likely be stumbled upon by some Ivy League freshman face-down in the snow after a night of beer funnels. Perhaps it is for such achievement that I hold sobriety in such low regard. Hell, even ex-drunks grow up to be presidents these days.

Whatever the reason for my uncompromising inebriety, it’s nearly closing time here. And as I stagger home pondering my cirrhotic fate, I’m sure inebriation will conjure a few more causes for my present condition. So think of me tonight, under spinning ceiling and dancing walls, and raise a glass to me, the intemperate, unrepentant, rum-scented drunkard crow. Cheers

Well, I raise my cup of coffee to you (I'm still at work...). I'll have a glass of wine in your honor tonight my friend!

It seems that our friends now some americain writers, like Charles Bukowski.

Vicenç a écrit :It seems that our friends now some americain writers, like Charles Bukowski.

He died in 1994...But he's alive here on our board...

More from Charles Bukowski:

the best often die by their own hand
just to get away,
and those left behind
can never quite understand
why anybody
would ever want to
get away
from
them