I’m not married, but for the longest time my wedding bucket list has included:

1. Get married in a castle.
2. Get fired from my job on the day of my wedding.
3. At some point during the reception, the bride gets punched in the face.
4. Police are called more than once.
5. Lobster dinners are thrown.

In what might be the most hilariously European story ever reported, ex-Newcastle United player Danny Guthrie has lived my dream wedding. During his wedding to girlfriend Rebecca at Allerton Castle, an estate near Harrogate, Yorks, violence erupted, a guy tried to break down the door to get in and everything on that list happened. The lobster hurling is is like, 80-20 true. His Twitter says the story is “gossip gossip gossip”, but I’m moving forward believing he got married, had a bad day and watched his life turn into the last minute of any Three Stooges film.

Via the Telegraph, with a lobster-tip to Dirty Tackle:

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In our continuing coverage of obnoxious European billionaires, Newcastle United owner Mike Ashley has given his blessing to the team’s manager, Alan Pardew, to handle the scouting and rebuilding efforts during the international break, which means that Ashley was free to do what billionaires do best – namely throw nightclub parties and strip in front of a crowd of random people.

Thankfully, Newcastle is making up for Ashley’s pasty display with some new team merchandise to help the team’s fans feel a little better about themselves. They’re making sexy underwear.

The contract between the club and Premier Lingerie – described with northern lack of faff as ‘football-related underwear specialists’ – has a possible interest beyond the usual reasons for giving space to such a subject.

Premier points out that women now form about a fifth of regular football supporters in the uk, but only between three and five percent of club merchandise is aimed at them. (Via The Guardian)

Newcastle obviously isn’t the first team in any sport to sell lingerie, but the idea is still relatively new to the clubs across the pond. West Ham released a limited edition line in 2009, and Katy Perry showed off a sample at the MTV Europe Music Awards that year. I’ve heard that in Europe MTV still plays music.

Katy’s debut outfit and some Newcastle samples after the jump (available for purchase here).

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Things aren’t going all that well for Newcastle United.  After club legend Kev Keegan resigned in disgust, Joe Kinnear was named the interim manager while owner Mike Ashley (this demure wallflower) sells the team.  Kinnear took offense to some of the things written about him during his first week, and his first press conference went a little something like this:

Kinnear: Which one is Simon Bird?
Bird: Me.
Kinnear: You’re a cunt.
Bird: Thank you.

It gets better from there; Kinnear embarks on a carpet-F-bombing mission, dropping 52 of them over the course of 13 minutes.  Only four per minute?  Pussy.  Also, if you can listen to the entire thing without wandering off and doing something else, you deserve the Ritalin Attention Span Award. I always thought I could listen to people going off and swearing all day, but apparently it’s more like two minutes.  But then, my attention span was never very DOGGIE!  Who’s a good dog?!?  You are!  Oh, you want a belly rub? Yes you do!

[Transcript here - unbleeped audio here]

“Look at my striped shirt! No seriously, look at it. It’s either that or the neck fat.”

Newcastle United’s manager Kev Keegan, as much a part of the Magpies’ tradition as their black and white jerseys, quit the team last Thursday over what he perceived to be shoddy restrictions over how he ran the club. During the height of the team’s internal strife, team owner Mike Ashley was in New York dropping $216,000 on one night of partying.

The owner and three other men, including one man named only as PK, downed an amazing 175 bottles of Cristal Champagne — the club’s entire stock. They also necked 16 bottles of Dom Perignon, 29 of PJ Fleur Rose and three of Grey Goose Vodka.

Onlookers in the club on Wednesday night said Ashley was “slaughtered” and soaked from head to foot in Champagne as he sprayed £450 bottles of Cristal over his pals and handed out drinks and bottles to scantily-clad girls — getting some to pour booze into his mouth.

Big deal. I went to the liquor store and got, like, almost all their Mike’s Hard Lemonade. AND I wasn’t carded, thank you very much. Operators are standing by, ladies.

[Deuce of Davenport]

There's an East Coast bias in coverage of jackass baseball fans.  Red Sox and Yankees fans get all the attention for being loudmouthed narrow-minded louts, but there's a particularly virulent breed of fucktardation on Chicago's North Side that deserves more attention.  Wrigley Field is the hub of Midwestern douchebaggery, pulling in the biggest douches in a five-state radius.  The combination of lively bleachers, an active singles bar scene next to the stadium, and a high percentage of Northwestern graduates who work as consultants make Wrigleyville a veritable douchetopia.  Or Xanadouche, if you prefer.

That said, this "catch the baseball with your beer cup then chug it" is a pretty cool routine.  It very nearly ruined my rant against douchey Cubs fans.

[Lion in Oil via The Sporting Blog] 

The Cubs and the Astros ran into a bit of a squall last night that ended their game an inning prematurely. Being that it was '70s night in Wrigley, that's an inning less of YMCA costumes and people in Rick Monday jerseys. But it did make for good fun during the various rain delays and tornado warnings, as a guy in an Elvis costume took an impressive glide across the tarp. Though I gotta say '70s Elvis probably wasn't that nimble on his feet. Not his fault, really. Just happens that peanut butter and banana sandwiches laced with barbiturates, though tasty, are a little high in fat. And death. Who knew?

[Big League Stew]