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


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

23/03/2015

 

What a day ah had today, diary. Ah got into the Thomson House nerve centre a bit late as the fucking Metees were running late again, (at least that's what ah telt everyone when ah got in as ah didn't think they'd be too sympathetic hearing aboot me marathon session ah had yesterday at the club). Anyway, there was cleaners ah'll ower the shop which was weird as they're usually well gone by the time ah get there. Ah asks Cams who was walking past what was going on? Was the Queen coming to visit or what? "Better than that , mate. Simon Fox is paying an unexpected visit that one of the advertising girls overheard on a shopping trip to London on the weekend. Everyone's flapping, Lee!" Wow! Simon Fox! The CEO of Trinity Mirror was trying to pay a sneaky visit, eh? Fucking magic! Why magic, diary? Well while the Thomson House highrark, heirck, err, chiefs were touching cloth about him coming the boy Ryder thinks in different ways to the rest of them and it was time to put my latest book, 'Networking - Your way to success' to the test. Ah hung about in the background as Foxy came in the building making small talk to all and sundry. You couldn't get moved near him as it was a plevara, pleferr, err, horde of arselickers surrounding him and they were getting to the same place as Gabby Obertan does when he starts one of his 40 yard runs.......absolutely fucking neewhere, that's where! Nah, Ah let's them get on with it, biding me time as ah stood by the work bogs waiting for the moment ah knew was coming. Me networking book said the netty was a great place to network, it was quiet, it was private and you could start networking while washing your hands, so Ryder was onto it quicker than SuperMac chasing after a Terry Hibbitt through-ball. Anyway, as sure as eggs are eggs and Carver is a Geordie, Foxy started to go a funny colour and mentioned he was off 'To the little boys room.' as he put it. Ah followed him in after twenty seconds but when ah got in the urinals were empty and ah could see the trap one door shutting! Foxy was having a shite! Ah thought ah cannit hang aboot washing me hands for ten minutes so ah went into trap two pretending to have a shite as ah waited for Foxy to curl one oot. Anyway ah'd barely sat doon when the great man called out to me, "Hi! you alright?" Fucking hell! He was talking already and ah hadn't even spoken to him yet and he hadn't even seen me! He must've seen me coming in but ah never realised! Obviously ah'd been pointed out to him by the editor or Gibbo and he was wanting a bit craic with one of his star talents. Anyways, ah answered back, "Aye, Simon, ah'm fucking canny, mate." There was a bit of a pause before he carried on talking. He said, "So what are you up to? Busy?" Ah thought to meself, 'What does he think ah'm up to?' but just answered, "Err, y'knaa, Simon, just having a shite like you, mate." Just then ah realised that there'd been no 'plop' noises, no fart noises or owt ike that so ah thought on me feet and made a few 'NNNnnnnnn, Nnnnnnnnnnn!' sounds as if ah was straining to get a rock oot me arse, just so's Foxy wouldn't get suspish, suspiceio, err, so he wouldn't think ah was pretending. Again the great man paused a bit and then said, "Darling, can I phone you back, there's a lunatic sitting in the next toilet trying to talk to me." Fucking hell! He was talking to their lass on his phone ah'll along!! Ah thought ah'd fucking blown it now, like, so ah quickly pulled up me strides and rushed oot of trap two, ah quickly turned the tap on, so Foxy could hear water running, quickly pushed the hot air button on the dryer and got the fuck out! Ah lost me networking chance through breaking Ryder's number one rule, 'Divvent listen to nee fucker, do it my way or nee way." It hadn't let me down so far unlike some fucking poncy book written by a speccy cockney fucking nerd, so ah laughed, shrugged me shoulders and thought that next time it'll be the Knight Ryder calling the shots! Lol. Laters!

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

31/03/2015

 

Well, just when it goes quiet around the roller coaster ride of NUFC then along comes a derby, the financial results and an unexpected interview with a Toon legend. Ah was nipping into Gosforth for a lunch time special chinkees at Poons which Eddie Eats had recommended to me the other day in the Thomson house bait room. It's not often that the fat cunt turns his nose up at any kind of bait but even he seemed to be drooling at their Hot & Spicy Chicken with Chilli & Sesame Oil with a portion of fried rice and prawn crackers. She-who-must-be-fed, (or Mrs Eats to you and me), had Sweet & Sour King Prawns. Ah was obviously going to ask for mine to have extra chilli on as the Ryder has everything extra hot on account of not being a puff. Anyways, as ah was walking down Gossy High street ah heard a Spanish sounding voice say, "No! It's NOL-berto SOL-ano, not NOR-berto SOR-ano" to a confused looking fan who couldn't pronounce Nobby's moniker. Right enough, it was our old trumpet playing Peruvian hero of yesteryear. "How! Nobby!" ah shouted ower the road. "Can ah have a quick chat, mate? It's Lee! Lee Ryder of the Chronicle! You remember me, mate?" Nobby said aye he did and agreed to have a quick chat, ah quickly said ah'd get to the other side of the road but Nobby said ah was already ON the other side of the road before chuckling to himself. Great craic as ever from the Nobmeister. He ended up going into Poons with me but just had a bottle of Tsingtao beer as he'd already had dinner. Ah was halfway through me scran when Nobby said the Toon would have to spend the new profits they'd announced on players as the team was "leetle bit sheet, Senor Ryder". Ah'd completely missed the news about the profits but Peru's finest export was filling me in on the details which yet again just showed how vital it was having the right contacts and one of the reasons some of us won journalistic awards and some of us named Cameron, Edwards or Caulkin, err, didn't, lol. Ah quickly buzzed Cams when ah went forra piss and he confirmed the story and said he was going to do piece on it whilst ah telt him ah'd get the legends take on it as well making up a 'five players we can buy with the £18M' write up. Poor Cams would get the boring accountant stuff, ah'd get the Legend/player speculation story which ah knew forra fact me loyal readers would lap up far more than the Maths geek shite Cams was getting stuck with. Fuck me diary, ah was only going forra chinkees yet ah got an unexpected NUFC gold plated story handed on a fine China plate! Ah was ganna do a piece on derbies of the past and give Micky Quinn a bell for some quotes but as ah was ahead of the game ah thought ah'd save it for the morra and head off down the club instead forra a few post scran bevvies and a game of Jimmy Juker instead, aye diary, up there for thinking, doon there for dancing! The boy Ryder, keeping one step firmly ahead of the rest! Laters.

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:D The most interesting thing to happen in Gosforth since that fella got kneecapped on Ivy Road.

I know the story behind that. The bloke with the gym, aye.

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John Carver has spoken of his pride at the prospect of leading Newcastle United out for the Wear-Tyne derby.
The Geordie head coach becomes the first North-East-born manager to do so since Sir Bobby Robson and says he knows victory is a requirement on Sunday.

 

http://www.chroniclelive.co.uk/sport/football/football-news/john-carver-bursting-pride-derby-8975664?

 

'Sir Bobby Robson' - Check

 

'Geordie' - Check

 

'North-East born' - Check

 

'Pride' - Check

 

 

 

 

 

Not bad going for under 50 words.

 

 

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

03/04/2015

 

Alreet diary? All the punters who follow this crazy club of ours, the ones with black & white passion coursing through their bloodstreams know that the weekend brings up THE game of the season with our nearest and not so dearest down the road in red & white territory. But it's just the fans who care not the poncy players and managers riding about in their porsches and ferraris, right? Wrong. Today ah had a bell off Carvs who proposed a bit of mooch, mewtewa, err wanted to help both him and me. Ah gets down to Benton and am lead down the corridor to help build up the derby and get Geordie boy, coach Carvs, some more exposure to get the Toon number one role as it's not only what my loyal readers want but also helps me out with filling me back page as me and Carvs are fucking cush and ah've always got a quote on tap off The man who would be King. Anyways, as ah'm getting closer to his office ah hears a lot of groans and sounds of someone in discomfort. There were lots of heaving and shouting going on as keeping coach 'Wooders' Woodman and centre half colossus, 'Iron' Mike 'Willo' Wlliamson were trying to shoehorn Coach Carvs into some sort of corset. Ah hung back and looked through a crack in the door to see the real goings on at HQ NUFC when they thought nobody was watching. Willo was straining to zip the corset up while Wooders was forcing Carvs chest down with his puma football booted right foot. Wooders shouted, "Quick Iron man! get it zipped for facksake! his chest is swelling to fackin' dangerous proportions here, san!" Willo was trying his hardest but was clearly struggling as his hands were daintily moving the zip up at a slow rate. "Howay, Willo, bonny lad, ah divvent think me chest is ganna last much longer, kidda! Hurry up, man Ah'm nearly fucking gone here! Me chest is bursting with that much Geordie pride ah think ah'm ganna bust me gut here!" Carvs said as they finally managed to contain his swollen chest by getting the zip up to one last torturous gasp from Geordie John. 'Fuck me', ah thought, look at the sacrifices this man was giving to HIS club. Ah then went in as if ah'd nee idea he was wearing a corset and got a few quotes from the head coach about us matching their determination and getting fucking stuck in. Ah knew forran absolute fact me loyal readers would fucking lap that shit right up, it was just what they wanted to hear after those derby defeats and it was going to be yours truly who brought it to them via the powers of modern media. Until later, Ryder and out!

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