1. Martin O'Neill does not sleep. He waits.

2. Martin O’Neill has counted to infinity. Twice.

3. In fine print on the last page of the Guinness Book of World Records it notes that all world records are held by Martin O'Neill and those listed in the book are simply the closest anyone else has ever gotten.

4. There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Martin O’Neill allows to live.

5. Martin O’Neill originally appeared in the first ever football video game, but was removed by Beta Testers because every button caused him to score. When asked bout this "glitch," O'Neill replied, "That's no glitch."

6. Martin O’Neill is the only man to ever defeat a brick wall in a game of tennis.

7. A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Martin O'Neill and that you will be handicapped if you park there.

8. Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Martin O'Neill.

9. When Martin O'Neill falls in water, Martin O'Neill doesn't get wet. Water gets Martin O'Neill.

10. Martin O'Neill CAN believe it's not butter.

11. Martin O'Neill has the greatest Poker-Face of all time. He won the 1983 World Series of Poker, despite holding only a Joker, a Get out of Jail Free Monopoly card, a 2 of clubs, 7 of spades and a green #4 card from the game UNO.

12. Martin O'Neill doesn't bowl strikes, he just knocks down one pin and the other nine faint.

13. Martin O'Neill can slam a revolving door.

14. Some people wear Superman pyjamas. Superman wears Martin O'Neill pyjamas.

15. When God said, "Let there be light", Martin O'Neill said, "say 'please'."

16. Martin O'Neill uses a night-light. Not because Martin O'Neill is afraid of the dark, but the dark is afraid of Martin O'Neill.

17. Martin O'Neill tears could cure cancer. Only Martin O'Neill doesn’t cry.

I Hate Birmingham City FC. I hate them with a passion I hate the players, the manager, the coach the ground, the supporters, the club shop, the team bus, the pro-blues press, the flags and banners, the scarves and the hats and badges. I hate the colour blue, I hate FlyBe, I hate Diadora, I hate the Zulu Army, I hate Francis, Bruce, Claridge and Worthington, and anyone else they have ever worshipped. I hate that fucking disgusting song and any nob that sings it. I hate Jasper Carrott and Tom Ross and I hate that fucking chav from The Streets.

I hate Triton Showers, I hate Phones 4 U, and I hate Auto fucking Windscreens. I hate their chairman, I hate their board, I hate that fat fucking slag, I hate the Daily Sport, the Sunday Sport and I hate Ann Summers. I hate the way they deal in the transfer market, I hate their past players, I hate their present players, I hate their delusions of grandeur and their bias account of history, I hate the whole Small Heath machine. I hate what they stand for and what they represent, and I hate their obsession with Aston Villa.

I hate the way their badge resembles a piece of belly-button fluff and I hate the cheap fucking horrible things that they buy for two-ninety-nine from the Bullring market to wear around their unwashed necks… shit jewellery for shit people, eh? I hate the way they have at least 8 stickers in the back windows of their cars. I hate the Tilton End, the Railway End, the Kop and the Main Stand. St Andrew is my least favourite of all the saints… I fucking hate St Andrews day!

I hold my breath when I pass their slum eyesore of a ground, I scribble out the faces of players and managers when I see them, I spit at the Evening Mail when it kisses their arse and does a “Bloooze Speshull” when they get to the Atari 6-a-side final. I shout stuff at their fans when I see them. They make me sick.

They sit there in their multi-storey car-park stadium, with no atmosphere. Full of unfortunates, 6-fingered-inbreds and gyppos clapping along while they sing, “Shit on the Villa…” but don't give two fucks about their 2-bob, piss-poor club. They spout on about their full houses and how they can’t get a ticket, but they still haven't sold out this season!! I hate the way they celebrate an Aston Villa defeat as if it’s a Small Heath win. So fuck off you dirty, small-minded, small heath bastards…..

I fucking hate them....