Didn’t we all think that Blatter the chatter’s main message was: morals don’t matter, let’s go for Qatar. Any rhyme with Blatter makes for poor patter – scatter, shatter, batter, twatter, fatter-catter…and so on. Fancy calling yourself Sepp instead of Joseppp. Domination of world football was inevitable. An irony that the Yanks blew the gaff on the bungs and bribes of FIFA, since it took them light years to expose Sir Lancelot Armstrong and that tidal wave of sprinters, now reinstated, who pump performance powerdrugs into their already-supercharged bodies. No matter, the world gets more curious daily. Aided of course by the ineffectual carping of Greg Dyke and David Gill and Prince bloody William who all cry ‘foul’ while Blatter gets fatter on the votes of delegates whose nests are nicely feathered.
Take the dogs who have just won BGT (we aficionados use the acronym on the assumption that everyone was glued on Sunday night). Take the SNP. Take the Gooners winning the FA Cup and Bath losing to Saracens. Take England’s dropped catches. Take petrol prices going up again. Austerity. Dennis Skinner. Bercow. The rest.
simplysorro 
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