I couldn't resist hanging on to the app that somebody gave me that allows me to hack into David Beckham's mobile. I don't really do much any more – I don't go out, watch TV, talk to people, I just spend hours listening in to Beck's calls, I'm totally addicted. Here's a good one from last week.
Mr Capello: "Hello, ees Mr Capello speeking. Ees that you Beckham?"
Becks: "Yeah ... hello sir, sorry to bother you as I know you're really busy trying to explain to Wayne why he shouldn't feed the baboons from his Maserati..."
Mr Capello: "But I am right in these, these monkeys are dangerous, they steal theengs from your car and they have beeg teeth and they think Rooney is a relative I theenk but he won't listen ..."
Becks: "Yeah, well, maybe I'll have a word with Wayne for you, sir, if you like."
Mr Capello: "Yes, that would be good I theenk..."
Becks: "OK, I'll do that, sir. What I was ringing about though was also animal-related. I've been reading there are snakes everywhere round our practice ground."
Mr Capello: "Snakes ... you mean paparazzi? Ees OK, I got some local boy weeth an air peestol and he got most of them out of the trees."
Becks: "No sir, I mean real snakes like puff adders and black mambas and stuff..."
Mr Capello: "Oh, I see. Well, this ees Africa so you have to expect these kind of thing, Beckham. I am sure that when we play the other countries there will be no snakes on the peetch, except maybe for the refereesss ... haha, these ees joke ... when you come out here? Make sure that there are no snakes on the plane? Ha ha, these ees another joke ... my Eenglish eeet gets really good, yes?"
Becks: "Yes sir, your English is much better than it was, it's very good that you are learning it because most of the lads only have a basic grasp of it anyway."
Mr Capello: "You are right, Beckham ... how eees your fragrant wife?"
Becks: "Fine thanks, sir ... about the snakes, it's just that I have a really bad phobia of them. If I even think that I am near one I go a bit doolally."
Mr Capello: "Do whatty? I do not know these word, please spell it for me?"
Beckham: "I can't sir ... it means crazy, I come out in a rash and I get all sweaty and my heart starts to pump really fast and I think I'm going to die ..."
Mr Capello: "Pleeese ... you are not back with Rebecca Loos again? She milked a man pig with her hands."
Becks: "It was a goat, sir ..."
Mr Capello: "Whatever, eet was deesgusting ... why you see her again, Victoria ees a lady, why you need company of no ladies?"
Becks: "No sir, it's nothing like that. I have a phobia of snakes so I can't come out unless there's definitely not any about."
Mr Capello: "What are you are behaving like? Be a man and do not worry about snake, worry about other teams and how we keek their asses."
Becks: "I know it sounds stupid sir, but it's nothing I can do, it's a medical condition. I was once paralysed with fear in bed for two days until I discovered that Victoria had been given a whole range of snakeskin luggage from Louis."
Mr Capello: "Louis ... who is Louis?"
Becks: "Louis Vuitton."
Mr Capello: "Oh ... OK ... I think you had another children..."
Becks: "No sir. Anyways, it was so bad that the butler had to take them all out and burn them. Victoria went mental. She said that the whole lot would have cost about fifty thousand pounds. I told her that since it was free it didn't count and she hit me with a stiletto and it really hurt."
Mr Capello: "OK ... I am very beesy right now. Thees is only problem, the snakes?"
Becks: "Yes, but it's a really big problem for me."
Mr Capello: "Ees OK, the journalists asked the king of thees area and he say they have lots of serum for venom."
Becks: "That's great sir, but it doesn't help me as my fear is irrational."
Mr Capello: "You are afraid of internationals? What ees wrong weeeth you, you are not even playing ..."
Becks: "No sir, irrational ... not international. I can't control it ..."
Mr Capello: "Leesten, Beckham. You are spending too much time weeth Chinawhite ladeess. You get on plane and fly here now. Your country needs you, Beckham."
Becks: "OK, sir ... I'll do my best ... thank you, sir...."
My hatred of football has reached new levels. Having organised a huge party for next Saturday, somebody politely informed me that it was England's first match that very evening. The World Cup no-shows are already making themselves known...