Belarusian suffering chronic case of stupid comment disease

Back in May, precious little Alex Hleb needed an excuse to get away from London, and decided to cite the noise - rather than bendy buses, overcrowding and Jade Goody - as a reason. Shortly after making these comments, he joined Barcelona, where honking car horns at night is considered mandatory and drunken screaming is the most common method of communication.

Yesterday, he added further fuel to the weak transfer excuse fire by inferring that his time in Blighty was marred by chaos (”In London things were very different, but there is no problem because we are professional and we can adapt to anything”) and that he is looking forward to his first real Christmas in Catalonia:

“Playing so many games in a short space of time over Christmas was very hard.

“For me, my family and Christmas are the best things in life, and I have been unable to see that for many years. Now I will be able to.”

The poor little darling, who was occasionally handsomely paid forced to travel around the country on Christmas Day, has also started whining about Hearts holding his brother to ransom:

“It would have been good had my brother come to Scotland but I don’t understand the politics of [Hearts owner] Romanov.

“He has been a short time in charge of Hearts

Future Mrs Rooney spotted throwing money down the gutter

Rooney’s WAG Coleen simultaneously infuriated her fans and shed some interesting light on Christmas with Wayne in one amazing shopping spree. £45 spent on snacks - “Damn you McLoughlin!” they shouted (in their heads).

According to the hardened reporters at the Sun, she loaded her shopping wagon with twelve tasty packets of McCoy’s, six delicious bumper-sacks of Quavers, and (roughly) thousands of bags of Walkers, mainly cheese and onion. The hammer blow was delivered when a brace of microwave burgers were spotted going into the bag.

Fellow shoppers stood agog, as all thoughts of pushing their young children into becoming WAGs vanished in a puff of flavoured crumbs.

Care to explain your great figure, Miss McLoughlin? It can’t be the crisps.