What's up, Pharrell Bell fans?

Hope you've all had a good week, in whatever it is you guys do. Thanks to the international break, P-Bell had the chance to take it a little bit easy for a few days.

I still get pissed every time I see an England squad announced and my name not in there, sure I do. Do I think I could do a job for my country? Of course. Name one person with even an ounce of football-knowledge who wouldn't think that?

But if I'm being honest - and you can rely on Pharrell Bell to be honest with you - I'm not actually that bothered about playing for England. If I finish my career never having played for my country, I'm not going to be crying like a girl about it.

To me, playing for England just looks like a bit of an unnecessary ball-ache. A load of hassle for not a lot of reward. There don't seem to be many positives from what I can see - especially in a World Cup Year.

You have your club form dissected in minute detail so that every stray pass or dodgy booking becomes some sort of national catastrophe; you then get called up to the squad and kiss goodbye to your what little time off we get during the season; face long trips to hell-holes like Kazakhstan, the Ukraine and Azerbaijan; and then get slaughtered in the Press afterwards whether you win or lose.

All that - and you don't even get paid for it. Sorry, its just not my cup of tea.

And I'll tell you what: playing for England under Fabio Capello, that doesn't look any fun in the slightest. The guy just looks so strict and grumpy all the time. Not my sort of guy at all.

Can you imagine trying to have a bit of banter with him? No chance. He'd be an absolute nightmare to go on those long away trips with.

And spending three weeks with him during a tournament? I'd be blowing my brains out through boredom after three days in his company. I think if I were an England squad member, I'd probably be privately hoping we DIDN'T qualify for South Africa.

Especially because, if what I hear from a mate of mine who's been in the last few squads, Capello definitely seems to just be a little bit mental. My mate - who was actually trembling with fear as he told me - reckons he's like the Guv'nor of some Death Row prison in the Deep South of the States.

On away trips, he says the players are basically locked inside the hotel complex, forced to play endless games of ping-pong and watch DVDs of 24 and Sex in the City while wardens slowly walk by with huge, slobbering Alsatians straining on chains at their side.

At training sessions, guys in a black uniform patrol the sidelines, staring at you from behind reflective sunglasses as they chew gum and menacingly twirl cudgels around their fingers.

The lads are told that Capello watches everything from a 100ft-high watchtower, his finger resting lightly on the trigger of a silver rifle that glints in the sunshine as it points down at the training pitch, following the movements of players far below.

Would he really feel any pity if any of those dots stopped moving forever? Nobody knows. That's the scary thing.

Because my mate reckons that none of the England players have ever actually met Capello himself. Nobody actually believes he is real. Nobody ever sees him or knows anybody that ever worked directly for him, but to hear my mate tell it, anybody could have worked for Capello. You never know. That is his power.

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist. And like that, poof. He's gone.

I told my mate maybe it's for the best.

For three years under Capello they'll have warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but maybe produce the Jules Rimet Trophy.

Under Sven Goran Eriksson they had brotherly love, six years of democracy and peace - and what did that produce? A couple of quarter-finals.

Not that it bothers me. As I've said, international football isn't really my bag. It seems a little stupid to me, to be giving so much of yourself away for nothing in return.

I guess, reading this back, what I'm saying is that I no longer want to be considered for England. Capello, if he even exists, can consider this blog my confirmation of retirement from international football.

I've got more important things to concentrate on, like my club. They are who pays my wages, my £25k-a-week. I owe it to them to make sure I am in peak condition for the big games. They showed great faith in me, and now it is time for me to repay them.

Until next week,

PB