Frankie Crisp

I got this from one of my mates the day after my stag do: For clarity, the suitcase was fully zipped up before this sleep-pissing started.

Jason Donervan made me laugh way more than it should have done back in the day.

Well if that was anything to go by, the trade was the right choice. Simmons was a beast and it was one of the performances of the season from any team so far. The opening drive was a dream and Caleb got his usual shit in. Apart from that minor wobble at the start of the 4th, it was a masterclass. These boys are the real deal. Mine and @HandsomeButchIII’s annual Superbowl night out might be a touch more stressful this season.

Okay, so this wasn’t stand up comedy as such, but it’s the nearest thread without me starting one called Gorgeous Things That Made You Cry Your Fucking Eyes Out. We saw Billy Crystal’s one-man 860 show a few days ago and it’s legitimately stayed with us with his delivery and emotion. We’re three days removed and can’t stop talking about it. In my entire lifetime, I’ve never, ever experienced anything like it. He is, of course, the funniest man still going but he weaved the story of his and his wife’s lives so beautifully. It was utterly heartbreaking in so many places; his relationships and dealing with the deaths of Robin Williams, Muhammad Ali and Rob Reiner, plus losing his family home in the Pallisades fires whilst having us crying with laughter as he told the story of his career, life, fatherhood and what brought him to write the show at this point. If any of you are due to be in New York before mid-February I implore you to grab tickets as it’ll be one of the most fulfilling 100 minutes of your life. Just brace yourself for it writing you off - the last ten minutes, especially.

Platini winning it instead of Neville Southall in 1985 was another dagger to the heart of this being taken seriously.

Richard Riehle passed away a few days back; maybe not the most recognisable of names but he was in loads of movies and was a familiar face. Likely best known for the knobhead prison guard in The Fugitive and his brilliant turn as the inventor of Jump to Conclusions in Office Space.

These things: It’s impossible to know whether you need to push them ten times to get a little dribble of hand wash that invariably ends up on the container or whether you have to go to the other side of the bathroom, stand like Mark Boucher and await a rocket of soap that flies at you like a male porn star’s release after a month off work.

We went to watch the Montreal Canadiens doing hockey at the Bell Centre, and I intentionally held my guts in so I could go for a crap in there. The missus has no idea why I keep calling it the Montreal Poo Job. This marriage won’t last.

Funnily enough we’re doing the same - I’ve watched it loads but the missus is seeing it for the first time. Clocked the news as we were watching one of the final episodes which seemed very eerie. From what I’ve read in the last few minutes he did so much outside of his acting role, but he really was superb as Junior. Obviously we’ll need confirmation but early indications suggest he may have taken his own life, making it even more tragic at such an age.

Sorry, Chest. Post the goals you love the most but with obvious conditions; one each a day and you can’t post your own team otherwise this’ll just be Bacon posting Harry Kane. Any league, any era. I’ll start.

Because the world is a burning pile of pubes - and to save me from dropping Jimmy into every thread - this is one to flag lunacy and frustration as and when it happens. Dickhead behaviour, nonsensical news stories, interactions you can’t handle, ridiculous experiences; they all count. If it makes you JFC, it’s in. My latest one is trying to book a hotel in London for one night. One night. I want a bed and a good bathroom. This time last year, I was paying no more than ninety quid for a night. My first search results today? One night! Jesus fucking Christ. We could probably include the behaviour of a good chunk of the nation since The Queen snuffed it in this, but let’s start with a line in the sand. If it makes you Jimmy, add it.

Something needs to break the Chippy Tea monopoly on here. So share and rate your big, heart-attack inducing fry-ups as and when you have one. I had a delicious one the other day (Café No. 33 in Norwich), but I was uneasy about it not floating in its own fat, so it only gets a 7 from me. Bacon and sausage hidden underneath the toast. Don’t do the Partridge thing. Too easy.

We're going to need a smaller thread. Living in the Material World (2011) Like Butch starting a thread about Wrexham shaggers or Devon about trainers, I might as well kick this off with a Beatles-related thing. Hand on heart, this is one of the best things you could ever wish to watch. Like The Beatles? Bonus. Ambivalent? No problem. Hate them? You'll still like it. Whilst the first part of this is about the group, how they rose to success and how they changed music and society for the better, the majority of the film is about George's post-Beatles life, his personal journey and how he became the kind of human being we'd all love to be*. This isn't about them as a band or their music, this is about a 15-year old joining a band, following his dreams, getting pissed off and then flourishing. Not just as a musician, but as a human being. It's a lovely touch by Scorsese to have George's lad, Dhani, read out the letters his old man sent home to the family when he was fucking about in Hamburg and around the UK during the early years. It's very sweet to know that whilst a young lad was seeing and doing all kinds, he was still considerate enough to get down to the Post Office. These aren't spoilers because it's stuff everyone's aware of, but the bits about the stabbing/Olivia twatting the intruder (who lived in the same block of flats as my Uncle Terry, FYI) are very insightful, but the best/worst part is Dhani and Olivia describing in great detail what it was like when George died. Fucking hell. I lost it in the picturehouse when I watched this the first time and have done so each time I've watched this since. It's beautiful and heartbreaking. Honestly, just watch this and as upsetting as it is, you'll end it with the biggest smile. And it's good for people to hear an actual Scouse accent, rather than the weird, forced one everyone hears on the telly. * It doesn't cover the time he was knocking off Ringo's wife, surprisingly. It's as if the rhetoric has been set in stone. Edit: there's some alright music in it.