Well with the All Blacks giving the dirty Convicts one in return you'd think we'd all be pretty happy.

Unfortunately, some of us (or I) have time to be grumpy with other stuff and feel the need to share. And I'm not talking about how dumb Nisbo or Mex sound sometimes, or even a lack of lithe young cheerleaders. I'm not going to bag those one-eyed whinging blowflies-in-a-glass-jar talking twerps Kearns and co. Nope, couldn't give a stuff about 'em. I fired up this weekend while watching the game because of the bullshit camera angles Sky fed us.

Nice one Stu?  Not even, time to go!

Isn't it sad, when a once great footballer carries on living his life as if anyone actually gives a shit about what he did back in the seventies and eighties?  Well, we're getting it first hand, and have been since the early nineties.

Yes, Stuart Sinclair Wilson, the saddest of the sad gits when it comes to being funny (or trying, and failing miserably) when presenting on Sky TV pre and post game, and on the rugby shows.  He is no longer funny, is he ever was, although perhaps as an after dinner speaker he was.  But Stu has got to remember, talking to a rugby club or the like, is a tad different than from being beamed into lounges throughout New Zealand and the world.  For starters, all the viewers are not riupped off their tits after their 15th handle, and are looking and witing for some insightful outpourings.  But no, we get the same raw sewage spewing from Stu week after week and year after year.