Sunday is only good for one thing...

Now, the main reason that we are going with a Sunday, Tuesday & Thursday update pattern here instead of the pretty standard Monday, Wednesday & Friday is simply because I'm a huge NFL fan. The fact that Sunday is officially NFL day means that on Monday's I'm dead unto the world. So we update on Sunday's.

I'm not just an NFL fan though, I follow a few American sports such as baseball, IndyCar and NASCAR. A lot of theories have arisen as to why this is. Now, I know why I follow all these sports I have no right following. It goes back to the good old days where I used to work behind bars. Not in prison, you understand, but as in bar tending. When you ritually get home from work at 2am, there isn't a whole lot on the tellybox aside from dodgy re-runs and American sport. And at the end of the day, live sport is live sport and man code dictates it is what must be watched. JD and his ethnically sensitive doctor friends just aren't as much fun at 2am. Although, weirdly, South Park is even funnier.

However, I have also been accused of being a fake American. This is, despite being a popular theory, one I really do protest. I am proudly British, enjoy crumpets, watch cricket, drink ale and hate on the French. But the fact that I have a habit of staying up all night watching sports that most people mock, allegedly have an American fashion sense and have a body type that estate agents would describe as 'voluptuous' seems to sway popular opinion.

This is not me, even in the slightest

I think America gets a bit of a bum rap. I mean, France sticks a McDonalds into the Louvre and they get a bit of good natured ribbing about the smile on the Mona Lisa being confirmed as her eyeing up a Big Mac. If America had stuck one in, oh I don't know, the Smithsonian or at the top of the Statue of Liberty then they would have had a horrendous bashing for being 'typical Americans'.

And what is so bad being a 'Fake American'? All it means is I like steak, beer and sports? I think it's better than people I know who, despite being as white as snow and incredibly middle class, are convinced they are from the heart of a rough London estate.

'Innit blud. I was cruising round in my old man's BMW 7 Series to pick my boy, Willoughby-Toft, before we went to hit up that sick new wine bar. It was wickid man, got chatting to this proper buff blonde girl who worked for some doctor round in Walton-On-The-Lake but I was all like 'you is only some secretary, and not a doc or nursey? What is you, dumb?' KnowwhatImsaying!?'

Sadly, that wasn't much of an exaggeration... See ya'll Tuesday!