LEAVE TOM HENNING ØVREBØ ALOOOOONE!

LEAVE HIM ALONE! You are lucky he even performed for you BASTARDS!
LEAVE ØVREBØ ALONE!…..Please.

You know what, Didier Drogba? I could not agree with you more. What we saw at Stamford Bridge yesterday, both during and after the game, was indeed "a f#$%cking disgrace!" The diving belle of Chelsea's attack put on an unprecedented show of postgame histrionics, and that's saying a lot considering the flopping and whining that mark just about every game in European footy these days.

I've never seen an athlete-- a professional athlete... an adult!-- carry on like that or scream obscenities INTO THE CAMERA on the field. Quite simply, it took the beloved drama we've come to expect from these European games and warped it all into some dark, stupid maudlinism. "Dream Team" would've written off Drogba's performance as too kitschy. But the rot goes deeper...

Precious Roy did a pretty comprehensive recap of the Chelsea players' commentary back at 10 am. Naturally, their anger, the frustration of once again crashing out of the CL in spectacular fashion, has triggered some less than professional, if not downright ugly responses by the players, Drogba of course being the prime culprit. Nevermind the referee missed as many calls for the Blues as he did for Barca-- who actually had a man sent off. Chelsea's loss was their own, and Drogba's rage should be directed at a mirror, not a camera.

But this isn't about Chelsea. It isn't about Barcelona. It's not about Gerry Pique's hand or Eto'o's elbow.

It is about the constant nattering that follows, and often precedes every big match. It's either Ferguson, or Benitez, or Wenger, or _______, or all of them, all at the same time, playing these [cue: euphemism] mindgames... and when the game is done and the score settled, so begins Act Two: the recriminations and posturing and blame.

And it's all centered on one man. The lowly referee. Corrupt scourge. Impotent blowhard. In this case, it's Tom Henning Øvrebø, the overmatched knucklehead who, by various estimates, failed to do his job properly between four and 424 times in 90+3 minutes yesterday in London.

Is it possible that Øvrebø and all his colleagues are just THAT BAD? Perhaps there are just not enough decent officials in all the sporting world to continue playing these games?

Or maybe, just maybe, today's players have made it impossible for guys like Øvrebø to do their jobs. Swans like Drogba and Ronaldo and Henry (in the WC Final, no less) and a million other footballers in a million different games from the Prem down to the Conference and all the way out to Turkey have made such a habit of dropping and whinging that it must be impossible for a single human being to distinguish the real infractions from the embellishment and playacting. In the end, it has a chilling effect on the ref and his willingness to blow his whistle and point to the spot.

Øvrebø should look at the ball bounce calmly into Pique's outstretched hand and make his call without a thought... a reflex move like Valdes flashing his arm to deflect Drogba's free kick. Yes, there is some nuance to the decision, but I promise you it was not the fine print of the rule book that clouded the Norwegian's gleaming dome. He was asking himself, "Did I really see what I just saw?" And whatever the answer, by the moment it was settled, too much time had passed. The play had moved on and the whistle, swallowed.

So please, leave Tom Henning Øvrebø aloooooone! He's a creation of our game. To hate him is to hate all modern football.

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Handbags at Stamford Bridge

Nicolas Anelka waits on the bench at Old Trafford.

Despite being beaten like a rented mule at Old Trafford on Sunday, Chelsea have insisted that there are no problems at Stamford Bridge. Big Phil is fine! Nothing to see here! Move on, lads!


The Sun, bastion of truthiness that it is, is reporting that Scolari and Anelka had something of a 'disagreement' concerning formations before the match against Manchester United this past weekend. It appears that Le Sulk was not happy about having been benched the past few matches, and things got worse when Big Phil informed him that in order to start at Old Trafford he would have to play on the left side. Naturally, Anelka refused and demanded to be played through the middle, which resulted in his continued benching.

Although Scolari has continued to deny that anything is wrong, it is clear that all is not well at Stamford Bridge. In fact, it is becoming increasingly clear that both the board and the players are beginning to rethink things, and Scolari may not last much longer with Spartak London, particularly if he manages to lose in the replay against Southend.

Scolari has said that he is in the position of having to placate both Anelka and Didier Drogba while trying to do what is best for the team. Apparently, what is best for the club is a wacky rotation policy which keeps the EPL's (suck it, Barclay's!) leading scorer on the bench. Did he take lessons from Rafa?

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Arrivederci, Andriy

In slightly sunnier news, we might be seeing the end of the Stamford Bridge love affair between Roman and his misunderstood Ukrainian plaything, Andriy Shevchenko.

We all know loans are the beginning of the end as far as player-club relations go, and there's word that the ink is slowly drying on a deal to loan him out to AC Milan, the club where he enjoyed his greatest personal success. Shevchenko never quite sorted out the goalscoring once he left Serie A, managing to bulge the net just 9 times in 47 appearances since joining Chelsea for a whopping 30 million pounds in 2005.

He was the apple of Abramovich's eye, and the transfer that was supposed to push the Blues far beyond anyone else's reach (they did still win some trophies, but hardly needed Andrei for that). Instead, he was an expensive flop, akin to movies like Ishtar or anything Uwe Boll ever made, and his departure on loan should finally bring this awkward courtship to a close.

He's still revered in Milan, and rightly so considering his track record. Still, I shall shed a tear tonight as Chelsea shed arguably their biggest joke.

After the jump, some videos of Shevchenko in happier days, you know, when he could score goals and get regular playing time.

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Take That Off!!!

This pictorial evidence of the bad blood within the Texas classico comes after our earlier post regarding Will Farrell’s discerning taste in apparel.

The fact is that the very sight of certain shirts can elicit a surprisingly strong and reflexive reaction within many of us. Who amongst us has not had their heart drop upon walking into a barbeque and discovering a good friend’s son decked out in some Arsenal rag?

Who hasn’t struck up a conversation with an airport passerby sporting the yellow of Norwich or some other rarely seen specimen? Who doesn’t judge the wearer on the flimsy basis of their choice of Bandwagon Red, whether it be of the Manchester or Merseyside variety?

After the jump, a tour of this Blue’s visceral reactions...

Of course, I’m going to start with the Gunners. I just joined the stable of a Blog that should arguably be renamed Unprofessional Arse. I can guarantee that this post will be tagged with "Douchebags in Chelsea Shirts." [Ed. Note: hey, I'm here to fulfill that guarantee!]

I understand the Haters.

In short, I have a number of good friends who support the Arse. Hirshey is kind enough to never wear Gunner colors, but many of them can’t resist outfitting themselves in a shirt fully 5x too large to be worn by an actual Arsenal player. I see the shirt, and bile rises within me. No matter if they’ve helped me move or bought me pints when I’m short... I hate them then. I’ve gotten in arguments with 8-year-old boys wearing the damned things. You just have to walk up them and make a snide-ass comment, doncha? Yo! Put down the Montrachet, ya prancing ponce! This dude has put down his burgundy and is rockin’ OUT!

The Red of United or Liverpool doesn’t get as much of a rise out of me. I mean, it’s not likely that Floyd Mayweather here, or the dog, or your typical United or Liverpool wearer, really has invested much in the game. They got the shirt because of the history, because United and Liverpool are the Yankees and Cowboys of English football. I would venture to say that, globally, United shirt-wearers watch fewer minutes of actual football than the wearers of any other shirt. Most American Liverpool supporters actually think the Reds could win the Prem some day. How much football could they possibly be watching? So you think, "sigh, well, the shallow fans come with the growth of the game in the States, don’t they? I suppose that’s good."

I came VERY close to putting up a picture of my seven-year old in his Chelsea shirt. I thought better of that. But this is someone’s son. Sure, you say, Chelsea is the new bandwagon. But while wearing Chelsea isn’t quite as controversial as wearing Lazio, it’s hardly an easy choice to wear the shirt of a side that about everyone hates for xenophobic, anti-semitic, or plain spiteful, jealous reasons, is it? Anyhoo, I see a young lad in Blue and it makes me smile. Then I ask him who his favorite player is. (my son’s is Joe Cole).

QPR shirts in Chicago! I love seeing folks in QPR, or Wolves, or Ipswich, or Nottingham Forest shirts. I have a good friend who wears West Brom. Instant conversation! Always something to discuss. And they’ll likely know the game. And their happy you asked after their shirt since they can go days without anyone recognizing it. Makes you want to sing Small World, eh?

These guys? Run. Just run. Why? I can think of five good reasons right off the top of my head. Anyway, don’t make eye contact. Just move along and go home and hug your wife.

What about you? What are your Rorschach Shirts? What sends you into a spittle-spraying rage? What makes you immediately buy the wearer a pint?

Let us know in the comments.

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Will Ferrell: Gentleman, Comedian, Chelsea-ite

Whilst celebrity sports fandom is no new thing, as soccer in America continues to garner more exposure, Hollywood is now falling in line with the rest of the world... Take for instance, Drew Carey having gone ga-ga for the Galaxy (and fucking Landycakes).

Now, so often Hollywood stars do overseas press to pimp their latest productions and show up a match, treating us to an odd pairing like Sly Stallone at Everton last year. (Funny, because nobody would willingly pay good money to see either one of them)

But, on last night's Daily Show, I was blind-sided by a demonstration of celebrity 'fandom' I did not see coming...

Will Ferrell is a Chelsea fan.

[Ed. Note: credit to the incomparable Chaim Witz of TMS for the screen grab]

Witness the footage in full:

And, there's even more evidence... Skip to 55 seconds in... and I'm willing to bet that's the same fucking shirt. (and boo to ArtisanNewsService for disabling the embed function)

At first glance, it could be that the funnyman could just be sporting a jersey because he lost a bet or spilled something on his shirt backstage, but the fact that it was an out-of-date kit (2003-ish I believe... old sponsor & before their badge redesign) suggests otherwise.

It suggests Will Ferrell might be douchier than I'd ever suspected. Or best case scenario, a bandwagoneer.

As it turns out, the man who brought us Neil Diamond 'Storytellers' (crocking Frank Lampard might give me an erection) is on THE LIST.

That's right... Chelsea's official website maintains a list of its 'Celebrity Fans'. Much like John Terry's reverse-sideburn haircut -- incredibly laaaaaame.

Other head-scratchers (or jock-sniffers) to make The List are:

- Tara Reid
(likely only because of this)

- Bryan Adams
(who was at my local WalMart today... shockingly, not as an employee)

- Owen Wilson
(a real fan would have saved the suicide attempt until after the Moscow final)

- Bill Clinton
(come to think of it, Monica's stained dress was a familiar shade of blue)

Since there exists a Chelsea fan-board called 'The Shed', one might now wonder if the 'GET OFF THE DAMN SHED' skit was actually a veiled reference.

Will, how you've disappointed me. Then again, maybe you can rehash the slacker athlete characters we've seen in 'Talladega Nights' and 'Semi-Pro' (and when I say "we've seen", I'm assuming somebody saw 'Semi-Pro') for a soccer-related movie.

Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten about the abortion that was 'Kicking and Screaming'.

[Ed. Note: it's not the first time for Ferrell, not even recently! I wonder if his press junket coordinator is a Gooner, else I'm all out of explanations. Credit to ABC News Now for the pic]

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A really quick and rushed attempt at a CL Final preview

Today's programming should be fun, if not a little ire-inducing: after all, the two teams fighting for this mighty honour are two of the three teams I hate the most in the world. Manchester United, and Chelsea. [There's no danger of Everton ever reaching a prestigious game like this, really]

On one side, you have a team run by a drunk Scot, hell-bent on infecting the world with Cristiano fever. He's got a deep, talented squad, and he's smug about it.

The Russian, before he became old and evil

On the other side, the blue menace from London, a team owned by an unscrupulous Russian oil merchant who is intent on ruining the transfer structure by paying top dollar for damaged goods.

Lesser of two evils? Is there such a thing in this one?

Putting personal hatred aside for just a moment, there are enough juicy storylines to keep us entertained.

FAREWELL, SWEET DIVING PRINCE:
Could this be Drogba's last game for Chelsea? Or, as I indulge in the most ridiculous of weekend gossip, Cristiano Ronaldo's? He'd really love a move to Spain, you know... as would Frank Lampard.

Furthermore, could this be the end of Sir Alex Ferguson? He's won just about everything there is to win, and while his retirement would be a serious shocker, it could happen. After all, he's got enough cash in the bank to inhabit a bar stool for the rest of his days. The temptation is pretty strong, I'd imagine.

THE BIG CHEATING PAYBACK:
It's been less than a fortnight since Man U won the title from right under Chelsea's nose. Avram Grant, passive and morose as he might seem, would love a bit of revenge. Not only would this be Chelsea's first CL win [remember, there was a time when Liverpool would simply knock them out in the semis... alas, that duck is broken], but it would prevent SAF from winning the silverware that's eluded him the longest. They did win it in 1999, but nary a sniff since then. Racking up EPL titles is one thing, but what good does it do when you can't win Europe's biggest prize?

LET'S HOPE THE REFEREE IS CARD-HAPPY:
Nothing spices up a big game like an early red card [just ask Richard Dunne]. Today's referee is Lubos Michel, the guy who awarded Luis Garcia's goal in that cagey 2005 semi-final against Liverpool. You know the one: just over the line, Terry and co. protesting vigorously [some things never change], the one that put LFC in the final where they had that comeback you might have seen.

Well, he's the man in charge today, and if the last Chelsea/Man U encounter wasn't violent or contentious enough, I expect nothing less than bloodshed and late tackles from both sides today.

Evra better keep a lid on it this evening.

In true prognosticating spirit, I took a quick poll of UF brethren to see what they think will happen today.

I swear: if it ends up being 1-0, I will murder someone.*

The Fan's Attic:
Since Ronaldo never comes up big in the big matches. I can't go with him for MoM. I think United wins. 3-1. Terry is injured. Drogba flops 14 times only to be outdone by Ronaldo with 16 flops. Tevez scores a brace and is MotM. Ballack scores for Chelsea, and Ferdinand finishes the job. Ferdinand plays out his mind and permanently takes the armband from Terry. Van Der Sar saves a Lampard PK that would have put Chelsea up 2-0 to send him off to Italy.

Precious Roy:
Chelski wins 2-1. Ballack and Malouda for Chelsea, Rooney for Man U.

ü75:
Chelsea after PKs. 1-1. Tevez and Ballack to score. Ronaldo misses his spot kick. Brave John Terry MotM.

Ian:
You guys are such optimists. I'm voting for Ronaldo to score in the first half, followed by a very questionable awarded to Chelsea deep into second half injury time. Chelsea then manage to scrape through in penalties. 1-1 (Chels wins on PKs)

Moonshine Mike:
As much as i hate to say it, 1-0 in favor of ManU. I feel dirty now.

Lingering Bursitis:
I will be optimistic in saying that there will be many goals.
3-2 Man U
Man U: Ronaldo, Vidic, Scholes
Chelsea: Drogba 2

---
So there you have it folks. We've reached the end of the European football season, barring some minor former Soviet bloc countries who are wrapping up their domestic leagues. We have 90 minutes of potentially good football left before the tidal wave of average football at Euro '08 [why yes, of course I'm still bitter that we didn't qualify].

Let's hope we get what we all deserve: some good goals, and one set of players crying openly for the cameras after the final whistle.

*A figurative "someone"

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Sheva wears a thong. The Sun is there

What does one do when he is paid millions of pounds a year to sit on their aging ass? Well, first of all, you make that ass comfortable. Failing that, you go out on the golf course and let other hackers spot your thong when leaning over to pick your (golf) ball out of the cup. How do I know to do this? Sheva taught me.

As with any suspect story involving a British-born or -living celebrity, The Sun was there. According to the article, when Sheva want to retrieve his (golf) ball after a putt, he showed a whale tail to fellow golfers.

Sorry. But that's really it. Sheva wears a thong. The article did provide the above picture, though, where The Sun's crack photoshop team theorized what Sheva in a thong would look like on the pitch. The only reason I'm even writing this article is so I can use that photo. It's awesome.

In order to provide you with a tad more quality from this article, I'll link you to pics of Sheva's American wife, who is supposedly a model. Given the sameness of all of her pics, I think she's had all of two photo shoots. Luckily for us, they are uniformly nude. Here ya go (NSFW).

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Seriously, another late season collapse?

Not pictured: silverware

At first, its easy to rationalize dropping points against lower tier opposition. After all, it must get old having to face teams that are always playing for the 0-0 draw and sticking eleven behind the ball. The JJB rugby ground is also a bit of a letdown from the San Siro. But then, as your Milan-destroying side fails to break down miserable Wigan, you realize that maybe the title really is going to slip away this year, again. And of course losing to the dilettante club across town on the same day as Manchester United make easy work of Liverpool pretty much confirms it. Arsenal are done in the EPL this year. Again.

Yes Mr. Wenger just got out-managed by a guy whose resume prior to this year was coaching the Israeli U-11 girls team. Avram just popped his big club cherry today. Terrific. Maybe if Arsene wasn't so fucking wed to his tactics, which only work in good weather, on a perfect pitch, or against naive European opposition, then Arsenal might actually be able to beat the likes of Villa, Birmingham, Boro, or Wigan. Guess what, I don't care how great a find that kid Wenger bought from Lens is, ok? Or about that awesome 16 year old playing the reserves who is totally going to be great in five years, after a spell on loan at St. Etienne. How about having a squad that actually contains depth? You know, like all of Arsenal's rivals for the Premiership. Chelsea can throw out internationals two deep at every position, while Manchester United spend tens of millions of pounds buying some Portuguese orgy buddies for Ronaldo. Fuck, the Manc squad players like Wes Brown and Darren Fletcher are better than anything Arsenal has on the bench (in terms of coming on and contributing as a sub), and always seem to score in crucial games.

I'm not talking about splashing out 25 million pounds to buy Benzama from Lyon this summer, or trying to pry Diego away from Werder Bremen or Ribery from Bayern (although he would look a hell of lot better than Eboue out wide). I'm talking about spending 10 million pounds, max, and getting a couple of veteran, proven EPL players who can come off the bench and nick a goal late in games. Yes, that means Wenger may have to buy players he hasn't coveted since they were 12 ( dirty old man), and who learned to play a bit more traditional English style. As Lingering Bursitis put it this week, Arsenal need a backup plan for when Cesc decides to sulk his way through a game because he doesn't like getting kicked. How much would it cost to buy Roque Santa Cruz from Blackburn, who shockingly has 12 EPL goals this year? Or how about Julio Arca? I'm sure Wenger and his scouts could turn up a ton of players across Europe who fit the bill and would be relatively cheap. But dear god, I want some experience.

Seriously, though, now that Emirates is finished and raking in cash like Ashley Dupre, it might be time to have a squad bigger than 17, and actually make a run at the EPL. I don't want to hear what a miracle it is that such an inexpensive side was leading the league for so long this year against the juggernaut from Manchester. Arsenal are a big club and should be in the hunt every season. At some point, Arsenal's pussy whipped board of directors might actually consider the end of season table, instead of listening to the sycophant London press, when evaluating Wenger's performance. And no, winning the Champions League won't make up for the March swoon.

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Chelsea fans are racists

Maybe, maybe not. I don't really know to be honest with you. But when the news comes out that Fat Frank and Asshole John Terry shirts outsell the one guy who can consistently score for the team, then I don't know what to think.

So, what's an Ivorian to do when confronted with these statistics? Well, Drogba fights back the only way he knows how--by going to the club shop and purchasing his own jersey. Sure, that's how I'd do it.

The Daily Mail article, using conveniently unnamed insider sources (but it's better than making them up, a la Scott Templeton), says that Drogba, hurt by training ground razzings, goes to the club store up to ten times a week to purchase his own jersey in bulk.

Here's what I don't understand. I know that footballers are never the brightest lights, but come on. Drogba is really going tho the club store at Stamford Bridge to purchase his own jerseys by himself? Why not send a mate to a local Sports World to buy them for you?

I call shenanigans on this whole story. Until I get picture proof of thousands of Drogba's closest Ivorian friends wearing this season's Chelsea shirt, I say no way. This feels like an attempt of someone to discredit the guy who is likely leaving in the close season anyway. Maybe, just maybe, that move will mean that this shirt starts to sell instead, you know, to the racist Chelsea crowd.

images from uksoccershop.com and thequake.com

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Chelsea, meet American Idol

This is a singing competition, not a dancing competition! Oh wait, no, it's a football competition. Dribble more and call us in the morning.

As anyone working in an entertainment industry might know, trying to find talent is hard. Simply, there aren't enough hours in the day to go out, search, solicit and canvas for fresh faces and diamonds in the rough.

To remedy the problem, they create shows like American Idol and America's Got Talent, whereby the undiscovered brilliance comes to them! That way you do less work, you get to make fun of the oddballs, and occasionally you might find someone incredible who you can immediately take credit for unearthing.

It's a phenomenal system, and Chelsea's finally cottoned on, with the news this morning that they're setting up a reality show in China to find the next big Asian soccer star. And, the top 4 get to come to Stamford Bridge!

Brilliant!

According to the Times Online, Chelsea will give trials to four Chinese youngsters after agreeing to partner with the Super Soccer Star programme, broadcast across the region on Guangdong TV Sports Channel.

They're desperate to get some presence in the world's most populous nation, as well as boosting their profile across the whole of Asia with this move. It seems a little cynical that this might be the answer, but, as we know, it's all about media management these days, and the possible drama that could come about when hundreds and hundreds of aspiring soccer players try out for Chelsea brass. I'm not entirely sure how much involvement the Blues will have over the show until the winners come over to the UK, nor just how they're going to be associated with the program besides having their fucking badge plastered everywhere.

The show will start airing in Southern China next month and take place over 13 episodes. It's open to players aged between 14 and 16 [sorry, distant Asian relatives of Danny Almonte], and the four most talented players will then get coached at Chelsea's academy at Cobham.

Peter Kenyon, obviously aiming to fill Simon Cowell's shoes, gives a wonderful soundbite:

"We are delighted to be involved in such an innovative project that helps us deliver on our continuing commitment to promote grass roots football amongst youngsters in China."

[I might believe that if TV cameras weren't rolling while you deliver on that "commitment".]

I wish I had a subscription to Guangdong TV Sports Channel, so I can watch the fun take place without having any idea what's being talked about. Chelsea could find the next Drogba. Then again, they might find the next Shevchenko.

Which outcome carries better ratings?

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Corona + Soccer = Crazy Delicious Lame

If someone were to drop the phrase "ultimate fan experience" I'm thinking that I might be getting an invite to the next Man U Christmas party. Hell, save for the fact that I'm not one of the top strikers in the EPL, I've got better game than Wayne Rooney (Seriously, dude, those are the pickup lines you can get away with when you're a world class footballer?). And I don't look like the groin stomping older brother of the 'Free to Be You and Me' babies.

Instead "ultimate fan experience" is how Murdoch's Globochem Soccer Channel is pimping their viewing parties. Co-sponsored by Corona, the network is throwing these at soccer watching bars around the country.


By sheer coincidence, there happened to be said viewing party at Ginger's in Chicago last Saturday (January 19, 2007). Ginger's Ale House holds the distinction of being America's "#1 Soccer Bar" from 2003-2005 (as voted by US Soccer). Perhaps the fact they are both in Chicago has helped stack the deck in their favor, but Ginger's is a perfectly good place to watch games. Three rooms, lots of TVs, and I have yet to arrive at an hour too early for them to be serving alcohol.

That's batting 1.000 in my book.

When I checked the Web to see what time the Gunner's kicked, Ginger's site made mention of the Fox Soccer Viewing Party. "Okay, cool, maybe some soccer schwag and cheap beer both being handed to me by chicks in bikinis." I'm not opposed to some spring in Springfield before 10 am on a Saturday.

I'm going to go watch the Gunners regardless. Any freebies on top are just that: freebies on top.

When I walked in, there was absolutely zero sign that there was anything to distinguish this from any other weekend of fútbol watching. No signs, no people in crazy sombreros, no overly hot girls be used as currency solely for the purpose of getting me to order a beer I probably wouldn't otherwise.

Instead about halfway through the second half of the matches (United and Chelsea were on simultaneously in the other two rooms) some mid-thirties guy opened up a cardboard box and dropped the above-pictured bottle openers on my and most everyone else's table. He actually dropped five, but I only took three (something about being greedy).

About 10 minutes later some douchebag came out of the back room and asked the guy if he was giving away free beer. In all fairness, I never actually met the guy, but I'm comfortable in saying he was a douchebag because he was sporting a Chelsea jersey.

About five minutes later I saw the same guy drinking a Corona. I don't know if he got it bough for him by the churchkey master or not. But that was the extent of the "ultimate fan experience" as it took place at Ginger's.

Truth be told, most such "parties" are usually pretty lame, but at least the alcohol company in charge has the good sense to hire busty bimbettes in skimpy clothes to hand out their schwag. So even when it comes to sexist exploitation of women for the purposes of whoring products, soccer in America is still pretty much on the last rung of the chain.

On the other hand, you have to give either FSC or Corona credit, it almost takes effort to produce something that lame.

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