Football...

...or Chavball as the Moai has called it in the not so distant past.

I am in the office and, although I cannot claim I am trying to work, I am equally not watching the TV. The football is on in the background and I am not watching it with an almost religious zeal. I have my back to it, I can hear it, I know what is going on and I drinking a *football office beer* but I'll be damned if I am going to turn around and watch it.

Don't get me wrong, it is not that I don't care. I would like England to win this match, and I would like them to win the World Cup. I just don't want to be involved in the long, boring road to England getting there.

So it is not that I don't care, it is just that I can't be bothered. Can't be bothered to listen to all the hype, can't be bothered to worry about Wayne Rooney's foot, and above all can't be bothered to sit through 90 minutes plus of meterosexuals throwing themselves to the ground whenever someone tries to trip them up. It is not entertainment, it is just pure hype.

So please don't make me watch the matches, I just want to know in the event that England wins the World Cup or in the (much more likely) event that we bomb out at an early stage.

That said, I would rather watch football than the execrable Big Brother.