The man with a head that is home to a hair island and a face that wears a frighteningly creepy smile at all times has been spotted in the wild at his new job in the Netherlands, attempting to talk to the press.

Now, far be it from us to mock the man, but, well – we had enough ammo to go on before this, and now he’s just gone and set us up for life. He’ll never have to behave like a twit again, he’ll never have to do an awful job as England manager then blame it on everyone/thing else and he’ll never have to talk utter, utter tripe ever again.

Because this clip says everything about Steve McClaren you would ever want it to. The man is clearly deranged – there cannot be any other explanation for his decision to adopt such a stunning ‘Dutch’ accent. He actually sounds like your dad on holiday, trying to talk to a waiter who can only manage broken English.

Yet this is a man who has – presumably – had endless training on how to conduct himself in public, how to speak and how to behave. Obviously the training fell on deaf ears.

Ol’ Steve also seems oblivious to the fact that most Dutch people have a far more refined English vocabulary than most English people. Either that, or he thinks the woman interviewing him had just arrived from special school. Either way, he’s not helping himself.

Watch for yourselves:

Honestly. “ME. COME TO HOLLAND. VERY GOOD SIDE. CHAMPION AND IS LEAGUE. ARSE. NAL. LIVERPOOL. WE PLAY. MAYBE. WE SEE!”

He’s a loss to the English game, that’s for sure.

Part-time granny-lover and occasional striker for Manchester United and England, Wayne Rooney, has put pen to paper on a new £150,000 deal. Fortunately for Wayne, he’s not being paid to stay away from the finest pensioners that various brothels up and down the country have to offer, he’s instead going to try and concentrate on tucking into a portion of bread.

We mean with his teeth. Not his winky. You perverts.

What bread and Wayne Rooney have in common is beyond us, but somebody at the Hovis bakery seems to think it will help their slumping sales.

Maybe they’ve forgotten about the ferocious CREDIT CRUNCH, meaning people are simply buying less? In fact, they would be better off just trying to get Wayne to spend £150,000 on bread. But then again, he probably wouldn’t know what to do with all that yeasty goodness.

Using all the experience garnered from our Badvertising feature, we’ve thought of a few ways that bread and Wayne Rooney could be connected:

1) He could explain to children that his brain resembles the mush left over after dipping Hovis’ finest in a soft-boiled egg 152 times. As a result, he decided to get the world’s stupidest tattoo.

2) It could be some sort of crap football advert to encourage kids to get fitter and not shove pie and chips down their gullet at all hours of the day. Using his croaky voice he’ll utter: “Hey children, if you want to get ahead in life then use your loaf like me Wayne Rooney!” Following that speech – which would probably take around 10 hours of filming to get right – he’ll head a loaf of bread past a small child and make them cry.

3) Maybe it’s a subtle education drive to encourage people to attend school: “If you don’t visit the classroom, you’ll end up in a bread factory with the morons like Wayne Rooney.” That tagline alone is enough to scare children more than the Bogeyman, the monster under the bed and Michael Jackson.

See, we should become advertising executives.

Unfortunately, it appears that Hovis aren’t going down the same line of thinking as us when it comes to using the human equivalent of Shrek to sell their sandwich-creation tool. A source told the Daily Mirror:

“They want to revert to the more classic commercials for the traditionalists. With Wayne being a national icon, they can return to the iconic Hovis style, while still appealing to the younger generation. The new advert will be in the spirit of the 1973 Hovis ad – voted Britain’s favourite TV commercial – of a boy pushing a bike laden with Hovis loaves up a steep hill.”

Um…unless we’re mistaken, we always thought that the original Hovis advert was filmed in Yorkshire. So why they want to transform the famous cobbled streets of Yorkshire into the potholed streets of Liverpool, where he’ll just get his bike stolen, is beyond even hecklerspray.

It’s a travesty, we tell you! Just like when Opal Fruits changed to Starburst. The loveable voice of a Yorkshireman is set to be replaced by the screechings of a Scouser. If he had an angelic voice, we wouldn’t mind.

But at the best of times, it’s hard to understand what he says, and it usually sounds like he’s going to break your kneecaps when you can hear him.

“If it ain’t from Yorkshire, it’s rubbish,” is a common utterance of local Yorkshire types. We presume this phrase will take on a new lease of life when the advert airs. If Wayne can get his lines right, that is.

Don’t hold your breath.

Because, 17 years after he almost fatally wounded his career by jigging about in front of several National Front members wrapped in a Union Jack, Morrissey seems to be at it again. Apparently Morrissey has used an NME interview to tell the world how much he hates immigrants and how "England is a memory now." Quite why Morrissey would want to stir up such a political hornet's nest in the first place is beyond us, although we suspect that Morrissey is simply playing the shock anti-immigration card to promote his pensioner-targeted new album Is It Me Or Are Policemen Getting Younger? and its lead single I'll Put A Bloody Knife Through That Ball If It Comes Over My Fence Again.

For the simple reason that he's managed to release two solo albums in a row that weren't so awful that we wanted to saw our ears off – which we think is a first for him – Morrissey seems to have forgotten why people went off him in the first place.

That reason, if you needed reminding, was that Morrissey went a little bit doolally in the early 1990s and started writing songs like The National Front Disco, We'll Let You Know, Bengali In Platforms and Asian Rut, then danced in front of some skinheads in Finsbury Park with a Union Jack wrapped around him in a way that some people say was deliberately stoking racial divides. Plus he was wearing a gold shirt that was just horrible.

From then on, fewer people bought Morrissey's albums because it looked like he was a bit of a racist – and that's the way it stayed until the NME started interviewing Morrissey again and he was fairly contrite about the whole racism thing. Since then, Morrissey has done well to keep his opinions to himself, only allowing the occasional embarrassing dad statement about the FBI or animal testing to slip out in between releasing his mediocre singles. 

But now? Now Morrissey has decided to speak out about immigrants. Specifically how shit they all are. Whoops. Morrissey told the NME:

"England is a memory now. The gates are flooded and anybody can have access to England and join in. Although I don't have anything against people from other countries, the higher the influx into England the more the British identity disappears. So the price is enormous. Travel to England and you have no idea where you are. It matters because the British identity is very attractive. I grew up into it and I find it very quaint and amusing. Other countries have held on to their basic identity, yet it seems to me that England was thrown away. You can't say, 'Everybody come into my house, sit on the bed, have what you like, do what you like.' It wouldn't work."

However, Morrissey is now claiming that the whole interview was a "hatchet job" and is threatening the NME with lawsuits and whatnot. So maybe Morrissey was misquoted, and he was actually talking about his literal house and using England as a metaphor for his downstairs toilet or something. We just don't know.

It's worth remembering, though, that Morrissey knows a lot a lot about immigration because he is one. Right now Morrissey lives in Rome and before that he lived in Los Angeles. So perhaps Morrissey isn't completely racist and anti-immigration, but he's just doing that ridiculous ex-pat thing where you spend a few months living abroad listening to nothing but The Kinks and Blur, slowly convincing yourself that England is a quaint little picture postcard of a ruddy vicar cycling along a country lane to umpire a village cricket match, and then getting a bit pissed off when a hoody happyslaps you for your chips a day after you return.

Either way, racist or not, we're starting to see why Morrissey wasn't allowed to do Eurovision this year – we can't imagine that the sight of a middle-aged bloke with a quiff singing a song called Push Your Knysza Up Your Arse You Polish Tit would have gone down particularly well in mainland Europe.

Read more:

Morrissey blames immigration for 'disappearance' of British identity – Independent