Glasgow Rangers thwarted The Bhoys plans of world-domination the other day. Well, at least the green and white scum's plan to sprint to a big lead. In the clash at Ibrox The Old Firm met in a no-holds-barred competition. One team had to fold over, and it was (of course) Celtic.

Places one and three in the table are occupied by fenian teams and places two and eight (sob) are held by local heroes. Local meaning Glasgow and Edinbra (okay, for you numbskulls who can't take a hint it's 'Gers & Hearts).

We will not rest until Celtic and Hibernian are demoted. Relegated. Expelled. Hearts, Hearts, glorious Hearts...

Again English Bob strikes "the punch in the face", or as you say: Kaftsmallen. It's like always a pleasure to be here. I kid you not.

I've recently come home after having toured the country, a trip that took me from Land's End to John O'Groats. For example I spent a few days in London, where I not only visited pubs, I actually did some work for UFO-Britain. Believe it or not.

Next stop was Scouser-heaven Liverpool, where I met with experts within the UFO-field in the western parts of Old Albion. We had a merry time and traded stories and experiences. Top notch!

Of course I visited Newcastle, the heart of Geordie-land. I have many friends in this nice part of England and M Algar was my guide the whole duration of my stay there. Thanks a bundle, Algar!

Then I crosseed the border. Scotland awaited...Dundee, Brechin, Aberdeen, Falkirk, Fort William and Cumbernauld. Just a few of the towns I set foot in. Yes, I teamed up with Calum Stewart for this part of the trip.

Finally I came back home. Knacked, but with a big grin on my face.

Det var en gång...nä. Hrmmm! Jan och Ulla gick i skogen...nej. Fan! Mors lilla Olle. Mors lilla Olle? Sen då? Jim McBond torkade svetten ur pannan och osäkrade sin AK 47:a. Nja...nej, nej.

Känner du igen dig? Skrivkramp är ett farligt tillstånd. Hur man än försöker så blir det inget av värde nedskrivet. Man testar allt. Kanske byter tema på boken/artikeln. To no avail. Man sliter sitt hår i förtvivlan och börjar leka med tjillevippen istället. Oroa er inte, ty Käftsmällen har svaret.

Köp ett sexpack starköl och svep dem raskt. Håll i hatten och sätt dig framför datorn och invänta ruset. Då kan jag lova att kreativiteten kommer och idéerna likaså. Alla de stora böckerna är skrivna av fulla författare. Se bara på Stephen King. Han dricker ju för fan parfym och T-dojja!

Seså, gå och sup dig full. Det är lösningen inte bara på skrivkramp, utan en mängd oönskade tillstånd. Alkohol regerar.