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The Secret Diary of Lee Ryder (aged 44 and a half)


Craig
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http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/whats-on/whats-on-news/ant-dec-berate-newcastle-uniteds-9262239?

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half.

15/05/2015

Alreet Diary? You never guess who ah was talking to the day, mind? Coach Carvs? Lee Charnley? Bob Moncur? Obviously wasn't SuperMac as he's not too popular in the corridors of SJP after being a bit critical of Mike. Have you guessed? If ah'd been on the bevvy and fancied some scran ah might get a TAKEAWAY from their place. If ah wanted to go into a JUNGLE ah'd ask them then ask them to GET ME OUT OF HERE! Would that be a clue? When ah was a foot soldier in the Toon Army ah was always getting READY TO RUMBLE, aye, that's right diary, not only do ah rub shoulders with the Premier League elite, ah'm on first name terms with the bafta boys, the Geordie duo, one Mr Anthony McPartlin and one Mr Declan Donnelly aka, Ant & Dec! Ah was at the Thomson House canteen this morning getting meself a full English as ah needed some scran on me stomach after ah'd had a bit of session after work yesterday. Ah got me scran and sat down with the Chronicle marketing kid, Cardboard Chris. Canny kid was 'Cardboard' but ah knew he wouldn't be sitting with me long as he had beans with his breakfast and he'd have to eat it quick before it soaked through his cardboard takeaway box. Chris would never use a plate even if he was eating in the canteen, at first he got loads of sympathy off the lasses as they all thought the poor cunt had a china plate phobia but it just turned out he had a cardboard fetish instead so now the lasses would never sit next to him in case he had a stalker on. As ah sat doon Chris said, "Are you gannin up to see Ant & Dec then, Lee?" Ah replied, "Ant & Dec? What you gannin on aboot, Chris?" It turned out that the Geordie superstars were visiting Thomson House and were going to pick a Newcastle United side to face QPR! Wow! But how the fuck was ah not telt about it?! Ah clocked the delicious Helen Danby, the editor, coming through the door, "Helen! Helen! What's the craic with Ant & Dec? How come ah wasn't telt aboot it?" Helen says she sent me an e-mail but what Helen didn't know was that ah don't do e-mails until a friday afternoon. Ah worked out years ago that it was the perfect excuse not to do something ah didn't want to do if ah never had time to do it if ah didn't get the e-mail till late on friday! Anyways, apparently they were going to film the lads and some of us Journos talking around the Thomson House meeting room table about the Toon but it was then ah realised ah wasn't properly dressed for the cameras! Ah'd put on a casual jumper this morning that ah quite liked but it was more a comfy job, in fact it was dark blue with patches on the sleeve and when ah looked in me reflection of the glass door ah realised ah looked a right clip in it, ah looked like one of me old geography teachers! Anyways, ah just had to put up with me jumper and had some great craic with the lads. Ah asked if ah could get an invite to their London pad next time we were away in the smoke and Ant said, "Err, aye, err, Lee, err, i'll give you my agents card, give him a ring later, mate." Anyways, it was yet another great bit of stuff for my loyal readers to see, in fact the only bad part of the day was Ant forgetting to give his agents card. Never mind, ah'l get the card next time. laters diary!

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Would have thought someone would have had a quiet word with him by now. Lives locally don't he?

He's proper nawty

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The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half.

26/05/2015

Ag-a-doo-doo-doo, push pineapple, shake the tree

Aga-doo-doo-doo, push pineapple, grind coffee
To the left, to the right, jump up and down and to the knees
Come and dance every night, sing with a hula melody
Eee, ya fucka, diary! What a class couple of days, man! After Jonas scored THAT goal on the weekend everyone at Planet NUFC was in party mode and guess who was invited round to Casa Carvs house for a celebratory drinkie poos? The only North East media man with his finger on the pulse, that's who, the man they all go to for getting their points across to the punters, the man who is to straight forward sentence structure what Alan Pardew was to derby victories, yes it was me! Lee Ryder who got the media invite! Ah was round there cracking on with Willo who was back in Coach Carvs good books, and dancing to Black Lace as Carvs lass put out some scran and a geet big massive punch bowl with vodka, orange, white rum, peach brandy, grenadine, a bit sugar, brandy, a bit lemon juice, some southern comfort, (At Rob Eliot's request) and some sherry. Carvs was fucking blotto and couldn't thank me enough for me support, "Lee, if it washnt for you, son, if it washn't for you, wor kid, ah, how! Gouffs! bogs that way, fucking mon ami......err, what was ah saying, Lee?" Ah stopped the chief Geordie at SJP, "john, divvent worry, man. You came good when it counted. A'hm all ower it in the Ronny Gill at the minute, mate. Ah've got a 'One-in-a-row' piece about THAT game and how you masterminded the club to safety with 90 mins to oblivion, Ah've got the 54th poll since you got the job, asking if the fans want you in charge, and ah think it might be a bit closer than the other 53 if I'm being honest, mate, think things might be swinging your way, mate." Carvs then wiped away a tear and said, "Ya knaa yee, Lee, ah divvent care what they say,....hic!......Yer a canny kid.......Brenda! Have ya got Lee a drink, pet?.......What wash ah ......hic!......saying?.........Sammy! Get some more tunes on, nenn of that jungle garage shite! Put Russ Abbot on youtube! Ah want an atmosphere, y'knaa, man, ask ya da, ah love a happy party with an atmosphere-ah!........Lee, ya a canny kid yee, like, ya fucking came through with them Carver for the toon stories, ah fucking love yee, son, fucking great kid, yee, man......See you.......up here yee are." Anyways, after drinking, singing and dancing ah made me way back home, ah was well served but at least ah wasn't as bad as Carvs who was asleep, hanging over his hedge in his front garden, with a can of stella in one hand and a slice of Iceland pizza in the other! Lol. The Toon are staying up and ah've got one grateful coach eating oot me hands! Fucking jackpot! Ryder and out!
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