Tag Archives: Tillakaratne Dilshan

Dilshan’s thumb

Until today the most painful male story I’d ever heard is from a degenerate friend of mine.

He was a filthy guy who often cheated on his live in girlfriend.

One day, before the days of internet dating sites, he met a girl via a phone dating service.

The girl he picked up sounded like an A grade skank, having never met her I see her as cold sore laden junkie type, mostly because that was my mate’s type.

While he was with her, her flat mate came home and walked straight in on them, instead of it being awkward it turned into the male fantasy moment he didn’t deserve. He’d stumbled into his first ever threeway.

Now, this was not a goodlooking, rich or suave gentleman. My mate’s head looked like it was carved from a tree but they forgot to give him features or treat the wood. So this was a big thing for him.

So big that in his excitement, he pushed a little harder than he ever had.

How hard? Hard enough to rip his foreskin.

He was unable to ever fully explain how much pain this gave him, but I’m assuming it was about as painful as a man can experience.

It doesn’t stop there, because now he was in all sorts of trouble, because if he went straight to the hospital, his lady might find out about his behaviour.

So he chose the frightful option of going home, getting his lady drunk, getting her ready for love making, rolling the condom over his dick, and then doing a few thrusts before screaming and claiming he had just ripped his foreskin.

He was a Machiavellian cheating turd, but you must respect him for having the skills and pain management skills to pull this off.

His lady bought it, and took him to the hospital where they put him back together. It was 3 months before his foreskin was back in working condition.

For some, they would have taken this as a lesson and also an achievement, he did not.

6 months later he was offered an even more exciting sexual situation, he was invited to an orgy and yet again being the low life untrustable man he was, he took up the offer.

Now, he’d already touched the sun once with a threesome he didn’t deserve, that he said was heaven before his foreskin gave out and peeled like a banana, so he didn’t need to do this orgy.

The thing is, he just wanted to. He wanted to beat the threesome. For him it was about being the man who could say in a bar, “well the time I had an orgy…”. He wanted to be in a room that was full of the smells and flavours of group sex.

So he went there to cheat on his girl again, and yet again, his foreskin was a fan of karma and it viciously ripped open just as the orgy was kicking off.

This time he was in so much pain he was taken straight to a hospital, and his lady put two and two together and reached the conclusion that he’d injured himself through coitus with another woman and dropped him.

Here he was with a broken penis that would have to be given an adult circumcision, no lady, nowhere to live and no chance of sex for about six months.

I was reminded of all this as Dilshan tried to put his hand in his glove for the second time, he’d already made a hundred at Lord’s, had his thumb almost ripped off twice, proved his toughness and put a spine into Sri Lanka after their last collapse, but he still wanted more. He wanted a double hundred and he was willing to sacrifice his thumb for it and play through the amazing pain.

That takes guts, and a little stupidity.

We respect that. Not our friend’s infidelity, but Dilshan’s toughness.

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Finally, Tillakaratne Dilshan on a motor bike

For some reason the Dilshan pic disappeared from the last post, but that is because he is so cool, so here it is.

My name is Tillakaratne Dilshan, and I’m cooler than you.  Here I am riding a motorbike wearing a shirt and tie, yet, I’m still cooler than you, deal with it.  If i was dressed as a pirate, I’d be even more cooler than you.

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Sri Lanka pictorial

I went to Sri Lanka, and I took a camera.

I couldn’t possibly show you every photo that was cricket related, but these are my favourites, they’re unedited, because I can’t be bothered.

Every night Mahela and I drink coke together, you could be this happy if you drink coke. Look how happy we are.  Really happy.

Hey man, what’s happening, yeah, coke man, i love it, I’m so fucking high right now, I know you can’t tell, cause I pull it off well, but really I am high.  But I look normal, don’t i.  I’m not, I’m high. Let’s go to white castle.

Not enough countries have cricket graffiti. This is a win for Sri Lanka.

A rare photo of Saddam Hussein and Murali.

Dude, buy coke for your family.  Sugar and caffeine rock.

A free book for the person to correctly name these 4 New Zealand cricketers.  Yes that is a trick question, no one can correctly name kiwi cricketers. Nathan McCullum is on the left, ladies.

Look at these dudes working and sitting on trucks while a cool photo of Malinga is in front of them.

I saw these guys at Dambulla.  I hope they all fail. Lazy bastards.

I also have more photos of Dambulla, but this is enough for one day, surely.

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Sehwagology celebrates this day

To me this is a pretty special day.

The first day I am a printed published author.

Obviously some very special men thought it was a special day as well.

To celebrate this event the GOD Sehwag hit 146 off 102 balls.

Considering our prophet never hardly ever makes runs in one dayers, it is quite clear that he did this in support of me, his loudest cleric.

But it didn’t stop there, is padawan learner Dilshan also stepped in and 160 off 124 came.

That would have been enough.

Two sehwagologists slaying bowlers on this demon of a pitch to celebrate my book.

There was one more surprise though, one more player had something to say.

And not just any player, but the King, King Kumar.

Not a sehwagologist, but a man so cool that watching him bat is like drinking lemonade on a hot day.

He came out and put the cherry on top of the cherries with 90 off 43.

Wow.

I am stunned guys.

I don’t know what to say.

Thank you all very much.

Praise Sehwagology.

And as an extra special miracle the book is now available on flipkart. Sort of.

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Angelo Mathews still doesn’t exist

Today Dilshan made 195 runs.

The scorecard, however, says only 109.

The rest of the runs go to a cricketer who this very website has questioned the existence of.

The obvious reason was that Dilshan’s last 86 runs were so mindfuckingly spectacular that if we really saw them, it would have blown our little minds.

Instead, yet again, our collective conscious chose to invent this Mathews.

Before that Dilshan was good, but not so good that it would destroy our minds.

The “Mathews innings” was good, eye catching and important, but in the end it was safe enough that we could except its reality.

Regardless of all this Fake Angelo Mathews nonsense, this test is poised perfectly.

Sri Lanka’s scoring rate and India’s constant wickets have meant that this game can go either way, which is about all you can ask for in a deciding test after the first day.

If Angelo existed, he would agree.

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Dilshan: the pimp daddy of batting

You know when you have that dream that you are the most Awesomest thing alive.

Either you are a rockstar with men throwing their boxer shorts on stage, a boxer with old white Jewish writers saying you are better than Ali or some politician that fixes the world and also fights off evil aliens.

Everyone has the dream where they are cool.

Well channel that, are you there yet, are you awesome in your imagination.

Good.

Now think of Dilshan’s batting of late.

Be honest, is your imaginary character as cool as he is.

No, ofcourse not.

How could it be?

Dilshan is some sort of Steve McQueen/Angela Davis/Bruce Lee/Ned Kelly hybrid at the moment.

Cooler than Ice, Harder than Nails, tastier than a quick burger.

He is like some sort of souped-up super-pimp crime-fighting freedom-fighting bastard straight from hell.

And now he has a beard, how can your imagination beat this?

The dilscoop starfish thing.

The wearing a hat while batting.

The open chest surrounded by bling.

And everything else that he brings to the game of cricket.

All he needs is a Rolls Royce made of Gold, an ivory walking stick and cricket would have to crown him the grand poobah of batting.

What happened?

Not that long ago he was a middle order struggler who never really did enough and had a pretty ordinary record.

Now he is the dog’s bollocks, the cat’s pyjamas, the moose’s caboose.

On one level I want to know how this struggling dude made it to the top of the mountain.

But on the other hand, fuck it.

Let us just enjoy this gift of awesomeness that has surely been delivered by our God of Sehwagology.

Amen, Dilshan, Amen.

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The death of the Opener

Opening was a special skill once upon a time.

Test openers seemed to come from one of two groups.

There were stoic chaps who were picked on and beaten as children.

This made them tough. Players like Boycott, Gavaskar, Langer, and other nuggetty sods that would happily take balls on the chest for hours on end to protect their wicket.

There has also been devil may care openers like Trumper, Slater, the One true god Sehwag.

These guys decided that blunting the new ball meant hitting it as hard as they could as often as they could.

But both of these types were proper openers.

To be a successful opening batsman it needed to be in your blood. You had to be a sick fucker to go out and face the fastest and scariest bowlers.

Very few middle order batsmen ever had the testicular power to move themselves up the order.

Today you don’t need balls to open the batting, anyone can do it.

I thought Shane Watson was the end of opening batsmen.

But Dilshan’s promotion was just taking the piss.

Before this test Dilshan had never batted at 3, and had batted at 4 twice.

Then he opens up, and he plays a 2020 innings to get the series starting.

Now I love attacking opening batsman, but Dilshan looks as much like an opening test batsman as my last shit does.

You just don’t need to be an opening batsman anymore.

Just a batsman.

If you can bat at 7, you can open.

Call it the Irfan Pathan Rule, mention the Krab Katich’s technique, watch Shane Watson look comfortable facing the first ball, or just refer people to Dilshan’s 92 off 72.

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The PM Vs. The King

The K-Rudd XI played a match against the Sri Lankans today at that place that isn’t quite Melbourne and isn’t quite Sydney, but has porn and fireworks.

Lets get the important bits out of the way first, the king kumar failed, got a very pretty nut from Hilfenhaus.

Now the game.

Cameron White was given the role of winning the toss and batting on a green top, and the cream of Australia’s one day crop folded like a foldable object.

The ended up at 152 all out.

A lot of ugly shots.

Noffke top scored with 30, so for him it was just like another game for Queensland.

Future PM David Hussey, SOS Marsh and the kiwi Ronchi all made dashing 20 odd’s, but the rest of their team mates couldn’t even provide that.

Malinga got 3 important wickets, those of the two Victorians and Animatrix Noffke.

The Lankans got to the score 6 wickets down, proving the pitch wasn’t a belter.

Dilshan and Sanath made the majority of the runs. If it wasn’t for Dilshan’s not out the Lankans may have lost, with everyone else going out without much of whimper.

Hilfenhaus and Noffke both impressed in their bowl off for Taits spot, and Cameron White did something we all assumed he had taken a solemn vow never to do again, he took wickets.

Perhaps Manuka oval is the only ground left in Australia that favours bowlers, no wonder it never gets minnow tests there.

Sime was heard to remark after the game, that under John Howard the PM’s XI were much stoic, dignified and conservitive.

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