This photo is of Chelsea's Frank Lampard (with fiancee Elen Rives) on the way to the team's Christmas party.  And if you're thinking, "What the fuck is Frank Lampard wearing?" the answer is, "I don't know."  But if you happen to be more specific by wondering, "Is Frank Lampard wearing white fishnets?" then the answer is, "Why yes.  Yes, he is."

Apparently it's a big thing for English soccer clubs is to have a team Christmas party, which I guess is only strange to me because I've never heard of one happening in American pro sports.  (Those wacky Brits, always driving on the left and calling elevators "lifts.")  In a related story, Manchester United's Christmas party is going to be approximately 700,000 times better than Chelsea's.

Their holiday party next week is looking rather scandalicious.  For a start, wives and girlfriends are strictly not invited. Nor is [manager] Sir Alex Ferguson. Each player has put £4,000 in to the kitty, and once they’ve reached a reasonable level of dosh [dosh??? - Ed.], Rio Ferdinand will be taking over the organization of events, which includes hiring a hottie-selector, whose sole existence on the payroll will be to source and choose a wide range of skanks, skeezoids and skeezy skanks for the night.

Mobile phones will be banned.  A team of eight burly security men will be brought in specifically to maintain the very important mobile phone rule.

Man, nothing warms my heart with the spirit of Christmas than leaving the girlfriend at home, getting wasted, and balling random sluts all night. "Bye honey!" "Where you going?" "Uhhh… Christmas shopping!  At the brothel.  Don't wait up!"

Chelsea star Frank Lampard — seen here with partner Elen Rives — has been unable to come to terms for a new contract with the EPL juggernaut.  Why might that be?  Because his demands are too fucking awesome:

Mr. Lampard is to be addressed as "Mr. Lampard" at all times, including in the match day programme, by the match announcer and by all other players, including on the pitch, with the exception of Mr. John Terry. In addition: The match day announcer is to read Mr. Lampard's name in a louder and more enthusiastic voice than the other players, with the exception of Mr. Terry.

Employees of Chelsea Football Club, including the playing staff, are not to make eye contact with Mr. Lampard in the dressing room or on the field of play, even when celebrating goals or congratulating Mr. Lampard on his exceptional play, with the exception of Mr. John Terry. Upon scoring a goal, Mr. Lampard is to be unmolested by fellow players for at least five ("5") seconds, in order to perform a celebration as he deems appropriate. When the rest of the team then embraces him, they may not touch him below the waist.

Mr. Lampard is to be provided with a separate dressing and changing area both at Stamford Bridge and away grounds, of four-star hotel quality or better. The lavatory seat is to be new and sealed. Mr. Lampard's dressing room is to be painted white or off-white and decorated with two ("2") vases of white lilies and a baby grand piano (white or off-white).

He didn't ask for the golden toilet?  Such restraint.

Claude Makélélé (heinie ho?) is a defensive midfielder for Chelsea who is married to French supermodel Noémie Lenoir (above, right).  And according to the WAG (futbol wives and girlfriends) blog Kickette, Claude and Noemie have possibly the greatest marriage ever:

Makelele has reportedly cheated on [Lenoir] many times with page 3 model Jamelah Asmar [above, left] – and was even said to be high tailing it between London and Paris to keep them both happy.  Still, Noemie has stayed.  She’s recently been quoted as saying she doesn’t mind if Claude spends lots of money on her: "If he gives Keylan (their son) a bath, that’s better than a diamond ring."

I also heard that Noémie makes dinner wearing lingerie and gives blowjobs that cure heart disease.  What a woman.  Why can't I marry a supermodel who's cool with me nailing topless models as long as I come home to wash the kid?  It's almost like millionaire world-class athletes get to do things regular people could never get away with.

(Bored? You may want to poke around Jamelah's website.) 

Chelsea centre back and the captain of England's national team John Terry got married to 24-year-old Toni Poole (pictured) this weekend, and the bride insisted that former Commodores singer and Nicole-adopter Lionel Richie perform at the happy couple's reception.  Richie performed for a mere £250,000 (half a million bucks), and the friends of the groom — some of the best and highest-paid soccer players in the world — got their money's worth by heckling Richie (via Deuce of Davenport)

After his first song, the former Commodores singer had to ask guests to pipe down. 'It was really embarrassing,' says one onlooker. 'Toni was looking very anxious about the lads making a real fool of her.  'When he started singing Hello the boys started chanting back to him as if they were on the football ground terraces.'

Now see, that's a healthy relationship John and Toni have.  She wants Lionel Richie?  Give her Lionel Richie.  But assert your place in the marriage by destroying her idea of a perfect wedding.

I'd also like to use this post as a platform to encourage everyone to watch the video for "Hello".  It is truly a masterpiece of American cinema, the sort of thing that everyone should watch every couple of months to remind you of our country's greatness — like Lawrence Taylor snapping Joe Theismann's leg.

Man, if it weren't for The Offside, I might go a day without remembering that European soccer fans are absolutely fucking ridiculous.  This is from the FA Cup final between Chelsea and Manchester United, and poor Pedro Pinto of British CNN gets beers dumped on him and mauled by Man U fans.  And I can speak from experience, getting a beer dumped on your head sucks.  Hey, don't get mad at me 'cause I said you look like a tramp.  You're the one who bought the Hoochie 2000 costume.

(Apologies for the slowness today.  I've got one more blockbuster post after this, so you should check back in again soon.  You won't want to miss it.)

As we all know by now, international soccer fans are dangerous people, not to be trusted. If the news stories are true, all they do is riot and kill people and set off flares and hurl bottles at coaches. But Chelsea's fans may be the worst offenders of all.

Chelsea have banned three of their fans after they were caught throwing celery during the team's FA Cup win at Tottenham Hotspur… Chelsea had warned their fans three days before the replay against throwing celery during matches, saying it was a criminal offence and that anyone caught could be banned.

The unlikely warning had followed referee reports which mentioned celery-throwing at two previous Chelsea matches and which were being investigated by the Football Association.

I know I don't speak British, so help me out here: is "celery" something different in the U.K.? Like, is a celery a spiked iron ball or flaming garbage or a poisonous snake? Because in America it's a lightweight vegetable that's pretty much useless without peanut butter and raisins.

I spoke to Chelsea fan Unsilent Majority of KSK, who confirms that celery in England, while still a vegetable, has different uses. It comes from a song sung at Chelsea home matches:

Celery, Celery / If she don't come / I'll tickle her bum / With a lump of celery.

Hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it. Want more information? You can read the book. Me, I'm gonna pretend this girl is a Chelsea fan.