WOMEN'S RRRRRRRRR, WOMEN'S RRRRRUUU, WOMEN'S RRR, RRUUUU, RUUU....
Just like the Fonz can't bring himself to say he was wrong, I can not bring myself to say the words women and rugby in a singular context.
One of the club elders of the Canucks put it out there that the league wants us to establish a women's team and as editor of the member's only section of our website, the Beaver, I produced an editorial on the matter. Here is the meat of my open minded argument....
Canucks women's rugby team?
Fuck That!
I would rather watch soccer, drink beer with a referee or simply blow rugby off the face of the earth than than listen to Stanley Park corrupted by the banshee-like screeching of female "rugby" players defiling the great game of rugby with their putrid imitation of the game that is played in heaven.
Despite being the editor of a distinguished publication such as The Beaver Press I am at a loss for words to describe the vile perversion of our great game each time a women's "match" takes place.
Luckily for the reader's sake I do not have to describe the visuals burnt into my mind's eye from witnessing female "rugby", one only has to close one's eyes and listen to sounds eerily similar to Hitchcock's The Birds as the "players" squawk and shriek for 80 minutes to know that it is against God.
Those of you who look upon hosting a women's team the same way Remington eyes off a free buffet, you have not considered all the implications.
If one could dodge the heavily stacked odds of finding an attractive woman rugby player, anything less than a relationship could land you with an embittered rabbit-boiler hounding you every time you turn up to rugby. What is rugby to a man but a safe haven devoid of the harping of a wife/girlfirend/stalker?
After interviewing rugby players during my travels, it seems even benefits such as dishwashing and bingo volunteering are fraught with danger. One player told me of the women claiming an equal stake in the clubhouse built by the men 20 years earlier after two years of taking over bingo responsibilities.
If the Canucks want to lose half their shit, they can do it the traditional way and get married!
HALF!
The only place for handbags in rugby is in the hands of a drunk All Black.
One of the club elders of the Canucks put it out there that the league wants us to establish a women's team and as editor of the member's only section of our website, the Beaver, I produced an editorial on the matter. Here is the meat of my open minded argument....
Canucks women's rugby team?
Fuck That!
I would rather watch soccer, drink beer with a referee or simply blow rugby off the face of the earth than than listen to Stanley Park corrupted by the banshee-like screeching of female "rugby" players defiling the great game of rugby with their putrid imitation of the game that is played in heaven.
Despite being the editor of a distinguished publication such as The Beaver Press I am at a loss for words to describe the vile perversion of our great game each time a women's "match" takes place.
Luckily for the reader's sake I do not have to describe the visuals burnt into my mind's eye from witnessing female "rugby", one only has to close one's eyes and listen to sounds eerily similar to Hitchcock's The Birds as the "players" squawk and shriek for 80 minutes to know that it is against God.
Those of you who look upon hosting a women's team the same way Remington eyes off a free buffet, you have not considered all the implications.
If one could dodge the heavily stacked odds of finding an attractive woman rugby player, anything less than a relationship could land you with an embittered rabbit-boiler hounding you every time you turn up to rugby. What is rugby to a man but a safe haven devoid of the harping of a wife/girlfirend/stalker?
After interviewing rugby players during my travels, it seems even benefits such as dishwashing and bingo volunteering are fraught with danger. One player told me of the women claiming an equal stake in the clubhouse built by the men 20 years earlier after two years of taking over bingo responsibilities.
If the Canucks want to lose half their shit, they can do it the traditional way and get married!
HALF!
The only place for handbags in rugby is in the hands of a drunk All Black.
posted by Anonymous | 10:27 AM
4 Comments:
People speak of "The end of Humanity" when referring to meteors, melting ice caps, and nuclear war. For me it happened the very second these filthy slappers were allowed out of the kitchen to vote...
A very good mate of mine made the Australian womens rugby team for the upcoming world cup in Canada.
She then promptly broke her leg and dislocated her ankle at training. Is this some kind of omen?
I say we send Dave Tod over to the Canucks to bash every budding women's rugby player even contemplating running onto the paddock.
The hit he produced on that drunk wench at Byron last year was slightly disturbing, yet bloody entertaining and fully deserved in an 'equal' and fair society
Roscoe
Send them over here Labby. CBOBs could use them. They have lost a couple of players and the canuckettes would offer more opposition than these molested pieces of shit!!
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