Arsenal: Lots Us: F*ck All
Saturday 24th September 2016 17:30
I've scooped stuff out of my cat's litter tray after feeding him curry that looks better than Chelsea did today. I imagine the only thing that could be any more horrific to watch would be Mary Berry and Arsene Wenger making a porno that made inappropriate use of a whisk and a banana (devil's food). I like to think she is too classy for this. Him, I'm not too sure...
The others: They won. We didn’t. I suppose Pogba can have a million because he scored but I think that puts him on £7.5m. If he gets over £50m by the end of this season I will find him and lick him. He's toss. Someone who had a worse day than us? I’m dubbing this: “The Day That Wayne Rooney’s Career Died.” You get dropped and your mates are 4-0 up at half time. Ouch.
Our game: As much fun as it was playing ‘let’s try and wedge a seven foot man in a space made for a five-year old” before kick off, (all the epic sized cushy seats don’t leave any leg room) it sucks that this was the highlight of the evening. If last Friday was Rocky V, then this was Creed: an abomination that once burned onto your eyeballs can never be forgotten, no matter how much you want to forget it ever happened.
Were we going to get the version of Chelsea from last Friday, or were we going to get the second half Leicester version from Tuesday night? I just can’t guess anymore. It looked as if it actually had the potential to be a good match, but we had our answer inside fifteen minutes when we were already 2-0 down thanks to f*ckmuppetry of the kind of calibre that saw Napoleon march on Moscow wearing budgie smugglers and a sun hat. Oh dear Gary Cahill. Oh dear. (And this is coming from me, when most of my chums know that given the chance I would cling to his leg like a horny Jack Russell if there wasn’t someone there to sit on me and prevent me from being arrested) To be fair, I don’t think it hurt anyone in the stadium more than him. Still, shocking. But we can come back? Right?
Wrong. Because everybody forgot that Bellerin can run fast. Or that part of the aim of a football match is to prevent the opposition from scoring. At that point, there was no fight in our boys at all, no pressure, apart from Costa, who I wish we could have cloned ten times today, because all they could do was bring him down. Against my better judgement, I believed we might have been turning things around for a five minute spell coming up to half time, until our centre backs decided to bomb after the same player like Rooney chasing down my nan and ignore everything going on around them. Sigh. Upshot of the first half? A f*cking shambles.
But what is this? We’ve suddenly got all this posession at the beginning of the second half? Is something magical going to happen? Of course it isn’t. It amounts to much passing around on the centre line and failing to get it in the box, before some generous soul gives it back to Arsenal and they almost score again. Rinse and repeat many times. Fabregas got sacrificed so we could go three at the back, by which time the likelihood of working miracles in this match would have been up there with HWWNBN winning a Nobel Peace Prize. Out of time, out of ideas.
I don’t think Conte has the staff to play the way he wants to, and it is going to take some time to either replace people, or to find out what he can and can’t do to effect change in a game with the personnel that he does have. Note to Conte, probably don’t try the three at the back thing again until there is someone there who will marshal everybody properly. Also, don’t take Fabregas off when he is the best chance you have of masterminding play that will get you a goal at the other end.
Matic might have been our best player in the first half. Yes. That is how bad it was. I can’t really fault Kante, Dave, or Costa, but when only three people turn up you’re doomed. I’m not going to have a go at the subs, because the damage was already done when they were thrown on, but I don’t think the manager deployed them in the best manner. Behold how Sideshow and Cahill at the back fails to work again. (I’ll throw something out there - If JT isn’t fit next week would it be so radical to play Alonso and move Ivanovic into the middle with one of them? If he isn’t convincing anyone at right back because he can’t run, he can still defend, right?) Hazard and Willian drifted in and out of the match with about as much appeal as a dirty fart trapped in a lift, and Courtois needs a lengthy course (in which anything he does wrong is punished by a 10,000 volt electric shock to the nutsack) in what to do when you come for the ball. Because waving your arms like Inspector Gadget on speed and falling over elaborately doesn’t work.
As we sang for a long, long time, we are the only team in London with the European cup. Our only solace this season will be going home to cuddle our inflatable trophies while other people fight it out for the league this season if we don’t address some of these issues very soon.
The only thing that has made me smile since I got home is a sincere apology from Gonzo for his sobriety last Friday. He promises to try harder for Leicester, even though it is an early kick off.
Balls to football. Hello Mr. Gin. Meet my mouth.
Let us never speak of this day again.
The others: United take on Leicester in the early kick off on Saturday. Potentially more amusement for us as far as the formers’ new Messiah is concerned. Should be quite evenly matched, I certainly wouldn’t want to call it on an accumulator. Anyone that thought HWWNBN was going to turn over a new leaf at United appears to have been higher than a Rastafarian on a weekend bender in Amsterdam. Just looking at the headlines that go with this new book makes me glad that he is not our problem anymore. You’ve got to question the sanity of someone who allows publication of something like that when he is still trying to operate as a professional in the world of football. Those are the kind of bridges you burn when you’re ready to join the local bridge club and consider the high point of your day to be listening to the Archers or chatting to people in the queue at the post office while you wait for your pension. Obviously I await Pogba's massive contribution to the game that will get his rating about £6.5m I've tallied so far.
At 3pm, God help us if Bournemouth don’t get something at home to Everton. We’ll have to listen to another week of the blue Scouse singing about how they are going to win the league. Fair play on a point against Sp*rs (at home) on the opening day, but so far the rest of their opposition has been Stoke, Sunderland, West Brom and Boro. Let’s not get carried away just yet. Come back in mid-December when you’ve had some more threatening opposition. Klopp’s pony-tailed band of nivea-hawking self professed pretty boys take on Hull at home, Boro host Sp*rs, who have had Harry F**king Kane ruled out till mid-November. (Sniffle) Stoke will do their best to try and get off the bottom at home to West Brom, but Sunderland also have just a single point and will want to try and get something out of Palace. Lastly on Saturday afternoon Swansea host Pep, whose “war of words” with Yaya Toure is about as compelling as Michael Owen doing the audiobook of an expanded history of cheese labels. The promise of Charlie Austin might be enough (just) to convince me to watch West Ham take on Southamption on Sunday, but I’d imagine that viewing figures on Sky for Burnley vs. Watford on Monday night will be about the same as if Robbie Savage made a documentary about Michael Owen making an audiobook about cheese labels.
Our game: Contewatch: Not having a good hair day today - but a picture of calm and serenity, which is more than can be said for some of his rivals this week. Defcon 1. (no need to start raiding Aldi for the tinned goods and bottled water yet) What did the press plebs waste their limited time with him on this week? HWWNBN and Wenger. Given that JT went from hourly updates of applying what looked like roll on deodorant to his rapidly healing ankle in an effort to convince everyone that he was not broken to total silence on Instagram it doesn’t come as any great suprise that he isn’t fit. Conte hasn’t decided whether to start Cesc yet. That’s about as truthful as one of Hilary Clinton's whoppers, but of course he isn’t going to tell them. We did get an update on Zouma - we’re hoping to have him in training next week. Hurrah. Possibly he might be available for selection after the international break. (Yes, another one. Already.)
I tried my hardest (well, about three and a half minutes) to find a fun fact about Arsenal. But it seems that Wenger had successfully sucked every last but of whimsy and humour out of the club during his 200 year reign. I did find a joke that almost made me laugh: Why do Arsenal fans whistle on the toilet? So they know which end to wipe. Giroud faces a late fitness test, (probably suffering complete disorientation and lack of vision where his stupid beard is taking over his face) but Ramsey, Welbeck, Mertersacker and Jenkinson (I know, who?) are all defnitely out.
I’m going to go for a victory tomorrow, but only if Fabregas starts and we prevent ourselves conceding nearly every time the opposition has a shot. It’s in hope more than definite expectation. Seeing the players that they’ve got missing and what it does to their threat on goal I’d be disappointed if we got nothing. Here’s a happy thought. If this weekend really goes tits up, we could be as low as 12th. Plus side, though, if we win, we go above them and more importantly, possibly above Sp*rs.
EFL Cup Round Three: Leicester City 2 Chelsea 4 (AET)
Tuesday 20th September 2016 19:45
The others: quick round up of the weekend’s action in the league: Pogbawatch. I’m adding £500,000 and I can’t actually give a reason why he should get anything, as I just remember him getting booked and not a lot else, so this a token amount for seemingly being able to lace up his football boots without assistance. In the words of The Artist Formally Known as Cookie Monster (because he’s blitzed off four stone - applause) who would now like to be known as ‘&’ “0 goals (from 13 shots), 0 assists and 4 haircuts so far this season.” I think that takes his value so far up to £6.5m
Three defeats in a row eh? Someone summed it up succinctly to me lately - when HHWNBN arrived on the scene, he was a revelation, but the world has caught up with him and now he looks old fashioned. Go on, laugh, you know you want to. Judas really isn’t special anymore. Even Wenger has beaten him now. Look at us and look at United. There is no magical formula for almost-instant success in the Premier League anymore. Because everyone has got money.
Urgh. Ian Wright. Moaning that the Fabregas banner is still up at the Emirates. Firstly, we did not buy him from Arsenal, and Arsenal did not exercise their right to buy him back, secondly you respect the players that have served your club, especially when they are not at your club because you don’t want them anymore. (Cech, case in point) Lastly, the illiterate goon seems to be forgetting that he played for Palace as well as going across London to join West Ham. Does he think Arsenal should write him out of their history too? It really is basic common sense, which applies to everyone, not just Ian: unless you are categorcially unimpeachable and a paragon of virtue and conscience, when the urge to gob off about people rises you should just keep your trap shut and sit your arse down.
Last Night: A debut for Alonso, which meant that (shocker) we had two actual full backs starting on their right sides. No Courtois - yay! (Presumably that’s why he has had so much time this week to moan about wishing he was in Spain) and a cup tie meant starts for Batshuayi, Moses, Fabregas and Pedro (Pedro is now Pesto, not because I am racist but because every apple device I own autocorrects him to this and I just, don’t, have, the energy to fight it anymore.) I doubt we would have picked a largely different side given the job.
The rollercoaster of emotions suffered at the King Power last night is quite hilarious in retrospect. My notes from the first half go from “pretty balanced start - we looked to have put a better attack out,” to “why the f*ck do we do this to ourselves EVERY. TIME.” There is my usual moaning about our complaints of rubbish corners apparently falling on deaf ears and some pretty ranty and mispelled waffle when as usual we conceded as soon as someone has a shot against us. (Good effort to hook it out by Dave, but no cigar. The ratio of shots on target against us and goals conceded continues to be woeful.) Then is all goes a bit hairbrained. I think you'd have a case for saying Begovic could have done more for both goals, but the defending was embarrassing Again. Two shots. Two conceded. Sigh. But we appeared to wake up a bit, and I honestly don’t think we deserved to be two behind, so the timely goal before the break didn’t exactly cheer me up, but made me think maybe we weren’t complete bellends after all.
Gary Lineker chose half time to tweet the most pointless stat in history. Apparently, if Cahill were to be awarded our goal, then it would be the first time in a league cup match that three goals had been scored and none of them had touched the back of the net. Go and get a beer out of the fridge you sad case.
As of when we scored I think we were the better side. Which is a nice surprise so far this season, the capability not to roll over and die. Think of it in Rocky terms. Last season was Rocky V. Turgid, slow, completely void of any entertainment and you ultimately came out of it wishing it had a.) never happened or b.) that you could just erase it from your brain. So far this term we are Rocky IV. It ain’t pretty, but you are slightly hopeful that no matter how many times we get punched in the face we might actually come out on top at the end.
Never in doubt for Dave, we were level with him and you knew it was hitting the back of the net as soon as he booted the equaliser. There was more energy all round. Leicester had their fair share of going forward too, including a hilarious penalty shout that was rightly waved away from where I was standing. (at the complete opposite end of the stadium with large bald head obstructing my view) There was some solid defending (at one point Captain Cahill tracked back so fast I thought he was Dave). We didn’t look like faffing every time the ball went into our box. Enter Diego. The chances kept on coming. Look at what he can do when there is a brain behind him feeding him the ball! Their substitutions brought them renewed intensity and you wondered if we had wasted our chance to nick it. But then, (and we’re getting into Rocky II territory here) we started slugging our way back. Shot followed shot, and we had a couple of corners that CLEARED THE FIRST MAN. (I know, breathe) Alonso crossed the ball so well at times I had to do a double take to make sure it was one of our players. Their red card just reinforced my opinion that right now, when he gets the service, Costa is unplayable. Like Swansea, Leciester’s only option was to kick him, which resulted in their red card. And, (pause for effect) Scrappy-Doo walked away from a potential ruck. Twice!
With Hazard on for Pesto, there was a rare tingly feeling that we might be the more deserving team. We had 27 shots with 11 on target verses 12 and 4 last Friday. (OK there was half an hour more play, but still the difference is huge) And Fabregas was that difference, and on account of far more than the netting of two goals in two minutes to kill the tie at the beginning of extra time (the second of which he celebrated by running the length of the pitch for the ubiquitous “Primary School Disco Boys Knee Slide”) He was sublime last night, and would have deserved a third and the match ball. And do you know what? #1 on the list of songs that you thought you'd never sing again might have been “du-du-du-du Victor Moses.” But he was great too.
We were our own worst enemy again in the first half, and yet again proved that when there is no Terry, there is not enough discipline at the back, but in fairness we are conceding too many with him there too. But then we dug ourselves out from 2-0 down for the first time since 2002. Far from the fierce phone screen punching of the first half on the notes and wanting to throttle most of the team, by the end of it I couldn’t say that any of ours had had an awful game. I thought the Chalobah sub was an odd one at the time, but he didn’t look out of place at all. Really solid showing. For me the one disappointment was Loftus Cheek. He wasn’t bad, you couldn’t say he failed when he had the ball, but he didn’t do anything great either. Sooner or later he is going to have to take one of his chances (all the more limited with less fixtures this season) and blow everyone away. It’s difficult, because we fans want him to succeed so badly, to see someone come all the way through at the club, but it just feels like we want it a whole lot more than he does at times. That’s probably not true, but he needs to find a way to convert his promise into something tangible, and he could certainly start by working harder off the ball.
MATCH Five: Chelsea 1 Mickey Mousers 2
Friday (Arrrgh!) 16th September 2016 20:00
Customer Comment of the day: Where’s Peter Osgood I've got to find Peter Osgood!? (Me:) Sorry to break it to you mate, but he’s dead. (Tourist looking for the statue to collect a ticket, it turned out)
Oppositon insult of the day: “You’d be fit if you weren’t Chelsea.” Me - “Even if you were you’d still be f**king ugly.” I give him 4/10 for trying.
Wank, wank, wank. That is all.
I’ll keep it short, because none of us want to relieve this. Essentially we were just guilty of not showing up and as a result it was a pretty miserable night. Too many shades of last season. One thing that did make me smile. This was the first (I think) game where there is a ban on unofficial clothing bearing the word “Chelsea.” The vile half and half scarves now read: “Chelse4” and many, many plebs were wearing them. I love that it is THAT easy to out-brain some of the f**ktards In charge of our football club. Not so funny was the fact that Gonzo was stone, cold, sober. I’m not angry with you, just disappointed.
I was at a complete loss as to why there were THREE of their players open for that first goal. I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch it. Talk about caught napping. Conte said that they had worked on many scenarios defensively. I can only assume that none of them actually involved marking the opposition. If not, at least one of our lot got a kicking from some expensive Italian shoes at half time. And much deserved it would have been too. So. Having gone behind we continued to not do very much going forward. It all seemed far too negative for a home game, especially against a team that is as flaky as the Vermin. If you are insistent on only having one player up front, then surely you would concede Matic and have Fabregas on to at least ensure he gets some decent service. When we did get in their box there were as little as 2 or 3 players in blue shirts up there to try and make a difference, against their nine or ten. That’s not going to work, is it?
Whatever that bellend of a lino was smoking in front of the West Stand, I want some. He was truly attrocious. When your performance warranted a massive cheer every time you actually got a decision right, you are either a member of the red mafia or you are more incompetent at your job than Michael Owen trying to entertain a TV audience. Have you noticed that Jordan Henderson can barely even move his face? Either he is a botox whore it just requires to many braincells. Either way, never will you hear the words "Jordan Henderson" and "world class" in the same sentence again. If it wasn’t for Kante, we could have been four down at half time.
What was increasingly frustrating as the game went on, is that they weren’t great, they just weren’t as terrible as us. Every time we managed to get out sh*t together and run at them we DID look like we could split them open. Oscar, no comment. Willian, meh. (I will say though, on behalf of Lew Zealand, who is getting increasingly ranty about this: he set an amazing standard last year and he’s not shit, and he is trying, but he’s not fully fit, and his mum is critically ill, so his head isn’t massively in it either. I can forgive him that for now. He will improve.) That said, it a spirited return from Sideshow, who had already started bleeding for the cause. Hazard seemed well mashalled as opposed to crap but came into the game more after the break, Costa, I couldn’t really fault when he was involved but he was so bloody isolated he was given very little to try and make something of. When it fell to him in the box, he did put it away. It was truly sad that Kante couldn't be everywhere, because he was great. Again. You can see why Leicester seem to be lacking something now he has departed their midfield.
It felt like a goal was coming, but we still looked like we lacked a spark. I was typing the words “we just aren’t dynamic enough with Matic” into my blog notes having already mugged him off on Facebook when he did the unthinkable, dancing through the opposition’s defence like a Serbian ninja in ballet shoes and setting up Diego. Fair play. I'll lay off him for a week now. That’s another sentence you won't ever see again: “Matic runs the length of the pitch, dances round the Scouse defence like a Serbian ninja in ballet shoes” and "results in a goal" (as opposed to a shot that goes 30ft over the bar.
Too slow on the subs tonight and then doing a triple with eight mins then go was all wrong. We needed to either go two up front at that point or to bring on Fabregas sooner. There's no point making sure before anything else that you don't concede again when you're losing at home with less than ten mins to go. Shoving him on and going "make magic happen" at that point is a bit harsh. I don't even think Klopp outdid Conte, (definitely not in the hair stakes) just that not enough players were on it and like most of last season we were our own worst enemy. The sides pretty much cancelled each other out. We've been done by some unforgivable napping and then by an unstoppable shot. In the words of another Shed Upper regular: “A world class shot from a shit Steven Gerrard.” All of this reinforces my view that they are more hapless and reliant on luck than serious challengers for the title.
We have a scapegoat tho, in the face of “Kermit,” who didn't shave. We all have our superstitions, but he knew when he rubbed his face at 0-2 it was all his fault. He claims that he began looking round the West Upper thinking "I hope they won't kill me." His companion, Bunsen Honeydew was asked "How do you feel having come all the way from Norway for this pile of sh*t? His answer? "If my bloodstream wasn't 90% alcohol right now I'd be dying inside.”
Still work to do. Evidently. Many of the same issues as last season on show for Conte. But it is still early days. You’ve seen it live, fix it now please boss!
I do not like this. My only solace is Gonzo’s (Muppet aliases, remember) determination to get more drunk tomorrow than ever before by the time that kick off comes round. The sight of him crawling up the stairs in the Shed Upper and dribbling on himself five minutes after the game has started will be just about enough to placate me with regard to Friday matches. Maybe. This, Sky, is a crime, seeing as your definition seems to be a bit fuzzy/ridiculous. (Insert rant about football’s capitulation at the feet of suited television fascists here)
The others: Amongst the fixtures for clubs not being subjected to this Friday wank, Hull take on Arsenal at 3pm on Saturday, when football is supposed to be played, at the same time as Leicester’s game against Burnley. The champions sit 16th at the moment (familiar, anyone?) so they could do with a win. Burnley will probably prove tougher opposition than their maiden Champions League match this week. Manchester City are at home to Bournemouth, so they should stay ahead of us and the Olympic Stadium gets some respite from all the fist-fighting as West Ham travel to West Brom for their annual dose of an instant cure for insomnia with Tony Pulis at the Hawthorns. Everton have the late kick off at home to Boro on Saturday, who are still in the top half at this early stage and seem to be getting a disproportionate amount of TV coverage. All of the Europa League peasants play on Sunday, with HWWNBN (because it is still all about him, it would seem) off to Watford to blame yet more people for his own inadequacies if United don’t get three points. Stoke, who are still bottom, travel to Palace. Southampton, who seem to be suffering after the departure of their manager and sit in 18th, host Swansea. The 4pm kick off sees Sp*rs, (thanks for making my birthday so awesome with your European ineptitude, chumps) at home to Sunderland. Surely they can’t f*ck that up.
Unfortunately if we lose they, Everton or United go could all go ahead of us if they pick up three points. The Mickey Mousers would need beat us by a significant margin to move past, and likewise, Arsenal or Hull would need big wins. What I am saying, essentially, is that (glass half full) it can’t be any worse than 7th by the end of the weekend. Happy days compared to last season!
Our game: JT’s ankle looks a bit less purply and more normal (thanks John for the constant close ups on Instagram) but not quite normal and un-puffy enough to have the likes of Skrtel stamping on it and pretending that it was an accident for 90 minutes. Enter Sideshow Dave, who gets a start in his place. Go get ‘em you mad-haired bast*rd. Conte says they have worked out many defensive scenarios. I’d keep it basic. “Dave, if you see anyone with a sh*t top-knot tomorrow night, (covers most of the opposition) end them. Other than that it is just Kurt Zouma who is unfit.
Conte Assessment (Each week, using all of my FBI profiling skills, meticulously absorbed watching 12 seasons of Criminal Minds, I will rate him on the Mourinho Scale, a careful and scientific calculation based on the premise that the more dishevelled and tramp-like a manager gets, the more he is about to strike the male menopause and have a total meltdown) Antonio remains at Defcon 1 after last week on account of no emotional incontinence and appearing to function sensibly as a grown man. (You’d think these are things to be taken for granted, but we know HWWNBN too well. For those unfamiliar, 1 is normal and it goes up to 5 when the Russians are coming)
I do not believe Klopp for one second when he says they won’t be trying to wind Costa up. As far as the red heathens go, they are expecting Lovren back (good, he’s sh*t) and they will probably recall Coutinho after resting him because he was apparently jet lagged after the international break (hope it wasn’t the gormless expression that prompted that move, because that is just his face).
Expect intensity, expect niggling on both sides, expect to be confronted by them singing at us in a collective southern accent and expect some raging sense of indignance about some ‘crime’ whilst they conveniently overlook some footballing atrocity on their own part. A ‘crime’ that Scouse Sports News will completely buy into and probably go on to mount a campaign to get someone suspended. Obviously I hope we do them 2-0 and there is no drama, but given the attacking flair of both teams and the crumbly, choux pastry-like consistency (damn you GBBO you’re taking over my mind with your brainwashing cakelike awesomeness) of the defences on occasion, I reluctantly admit that this could be a car crash with the three points going to whichever team happens to score last.
However, we have scored at least twice in all of our games so far. They score a bucket load of goals, but they have only kept but one clean sheet away from home in 2016. Also, (here’s some ‘istoreee for you) if they concede at ours tomorrow night, it will be the first time they have gone nine games without keeping one since 2005. All of which translates to, we’d be bellends if we didn’t put at least one past this lot. Sports Analytics Machine makes a home win 67% likely, a draw 20% and a win for the Vermin 13%. However, this SAM claims to be made by the University of Salford. Which is obviously made up.
MATCH FOUR: Swansea City 2 Chelsea 2
Sunday 11th September 2016 16:00
Our one and only foray into European football this season.
Customer quote of the day: Unrepeatable. Sigh. Every now and again you are reminded that the law of averages means that you'll meet a Chelsea fan occasionally who is a right arsehole. But if fronting up to a girl makes you feel good mate...
Opposition Insult: I can't even mock this, total role reversal today with the insult coming from our own. I only spoke to one Swans fan and it was an elderly chap who presented himself with a formal handshake and 'welcome to Swansea' before having a pleasant chat with us, saying he'd love a point and wishing us luck! It would be mean to make fun of him.
Word of the day - Cockwomble, thanks for that Animal. (another Muppet alias) Completely justified in that case!
The others: The Manc derby. There needs to be some kind of seminar at Old Trafford for the regular attendees as to what a handball actually entails, because moaning for it every time City had the ball in their own box got boring. Pogbawatch. Meh. I’ll add 1m for showing up, 1.5m for realising which way they were shooting and for noticing that they switched ends at half time. But I’m taking £500,000 off for his stupid hair stripe. So far he has worked his way this season a value of £7m. Long way to go to justify the price tag. I was laughing almost as hard as Joe Hart watching Bravo's debut. I don't think it could have got any better than watching a player HWWNBN sacked off (the ginger minger) get the ball rolling at the Theatre of Plastic Dreams. (Apart from when we go up there later this season and do them 0-2 courtesy of an OG from Mata and another one off Luiz's hair. From an offside position) Judas's whining was also hilarious. Four games in and he has already blamed his players, the other players and the referee for his woes. But I'm glad to see he's growing as a person. He's already looking dishevelled and slightly manic. I put him at Defcon 3.
In other news West Ham are apparently dishing out lifetime bans for fans fighting amongst themselves. Nobody vetted those 57,000 Season Ticket holders in their eagerness to flog them did they? And despite agent Cech's best efforts his pesky teammates managed to con the ref into a last minute penalty, but they'll rule themselves out of contention at some point anyway. Things to add to the list of what I despise in football: “We are L**erp**l. Lalalalala.” Yes thanks, we can tell that by the eighties fashion sense and the air of smug self-satisfaction we don't need to be reminded for ninety minutes. On the way to the game we debated the notion of "F**king Harry Kane." Have you, or can you ever refer to him without using the F word either in between his name or at either end? It's harder than you think.
And so we reached the scene of my projectile vomiting up the toilet wall three seasons ago like Gary in Team America. (never, ever, set foot in a Welsh Burger King for a Chicken Royale if you know what's good for you) It's only when the match starts at the Liberty Stadium that you get that occasional reminder of how blessed we are in not having a wanker with a drum at The Bridge. We began well. Costa put us ahead before we'd even got to twenty minutes and it was deserved. Hazard was enjoying taking the piss on the left and it was easy to see why our Swansea friend outside was apprehensive going into this. Most of the play was at the other end and it was almost 37 minutes before we saw much action in our own box in front of the away fans, Swansea getting their first corner.
Janice, Lew Zealand (more Muppets) and I took the time to rework the Conte song. For reference:
"Antonio Conte, wears budgie smugglers
Makes me happy
Makes me feel this way"
Surely it will catch on.
Towards the end of the of the half Swansea came into the game a bit more and made a break towards our goal, but it was defended with casual (slightly fear-inducing) ease. Apart from a wide shot from distance the home team had no opportunity to speak of before half time and we went in at 0-1.
Backseat managers who only turn up to whine about every ball in a golden shower of negativity drive me raging mad. Behind us Miss Piggy (which is going to be the roving nickname of anyone who gets on my tits at a match) came out with gems such as 'what is Hazard doing in that wall? (I'm going to go with basic suggestions such as 'doing as he is told,' or 'waiting for it to potentially rebound out so we can try and smash them on the break,' but if you think as a 5'7" attacker there's somewhere better for him to be, then by all means address your remarks to firstname.lastname@example.org) Another blinder was: "How is Costa supposed to defend from the front now he's on a yellow?" (You're just making sh*t up now) Of course Piggy was chanting Costa's name like a hypocritical chump when he scored, though he slated him constantly and pleaded with "Tony" (who?) to take him off on numerous occasions. Conte has two syllables, just like Tony, so no need to make a further twat of yourself.
The second half almost began perfectly but Willian needed a bit more curve on the ball just after the break when he took a shot on goal. I believe that there was no way back into the game for Swansea prior to Courtois's stupidity. He's just substantiated my theory (that I tell anyone repeatedly whether they want to hear it or not) that his instincts as a goalkeeper, with shot stopping and reaction saves are fine, but the second he has to engage his brain it's potentially catastrophic. This was substantiated today tenfold watching him flopping around like a big retarded banana, being miles off his line for both the penalty offence and their second goal. (All right. I suppose I will concede he wasn't expecting to see Cahill clattered out of the equation for the second.)
Blatant foul on Cahill. Having watched it live and from ten different angles on Lew Zealand's iPad he isn't even on the right trajectory to get the ball, it's just a lucky bounce that he's on it after he fouls our centre back. Cahill almost cleared it off the line and you have to commend him for charging back, but sadly we might have been better off if he had just rolled around in the floor like he was dying. It seems to work for Danny Rose. Regardless of whether their second goal should have stood, from being in total control we went to being behind. This looked familiar. I marvel at how quickly we manage to go from jubilation to fractious moaning even though we should be used to it by last season. Swansea were buoyed having gone ahead, like a different side in fact, and it was like trying to thread a needle wearing one of those shit face masks that all of our players were so into last season trying to get the ball in the box. Unsurprising, then, that the equaliser was ugly. The cross by Ivan was good (he actually had a good day for this) and it was quick thinking of Costa to put a shot on target for the second, even if it was deflected in.
We could have had a winner. A stinging cross past the face of goal made three shots that Oscar might have had with a bit more luck/accuracy. You felt like we'd be mugs if we didn't get something out of this game. Edge of the seat stuff. Luiz was hanging on the dugout like a maniac living every moment. It's hard not to like him. Even if watching him play sometimes is scarier than the Primark sponsored parade of the Newcastle WAGS we saw going into St. James's Park last season. (chaps, you would have seen hotter stuff watching Crufts) An immense tackle from Cahill kept us in it when Swansea got forward and tried to nick it at the other end. They had their chances too.
As Oscar went off, someone shouted "yeah f*ck off you c**t. Proof that 1) nobody ever sees the same game and 2) (more importantly) Some people are morons. Outstanding from Hazard getting back and taking that yellow at the death - not only COULDN'T he have done that last season with his podge, he WOULDN'T have been arsed. They both had a good, solid game, even if it was more in the sense of grafting for the team as opposed to any individual moments of shiny flair. This is a vast departure from last season when effort was minimal or they appeared to have been replaced by rubbish clones.
2-2 it was.
So. Good signs for Swansea that they've got some fight in them, even if there looks to be a bit of a hole where Ashley Williams was. Flappy-hand-ski coming outside the box and roaming around like a bellend is going to cost them a fair few goals this season.
We finished 10th last year for a reason. Once again out opposition had two shots on target (OK, one was a penalty and the other was a foul) and they've scored two. It's largely the same squad. Some peoples' expectations might be a little high. Any other day dominating play like that and having 28 shots, you'd win. You don't always get what you deserve out of a game of football and I'd not have been shocked to see Courtois sent off. We are still unbeaten, one of only four teams that can say that. We blatantly would have lost from that position last season. That and obviously we are still ahead of HWWNBN. I maintain that I'll be happy with top four this season. Anything else would be a pleasant surprise.
As for Diego - let's address this notion that he should have been sent off. Marriner (hilariously, my iPhone autocorrects his name to Martinet) drives me mad because he can never stay balanced the whole game. He veers backwards and forwards like a wacky racer from one extreme to the other. There were some examples of really good officialling from him today, but it doesn't stay consistent, namely the foul on Cahill that he ignored, and from where I sat, he let someone body slam Costa on the edge of the box out of desperation with no intention of getting the ball. If it isn't a foul, (which live, I thought it was) then it could be a dive from Costa and he could be off with a second yellow. Or, as a ref watching it from the wrong angle you can give the player on the floor the benefit of the doubt. (Mark my words, whatever the verdict is, your colleagues, having not even watched the game, will have been brainwashed by the likes of sh*tstirrers like Lineker and tabloid headlines and will greet you tomorrow morning with "that nasty monster/baby-eater/puppy-drowner Costa should have been off." God will forgive you if you pimp-slap them)
I have to say in his defence that I thought the ref was at least fair in that he attempted to punish persistent fouling on Costa, that he appeared to give some sensible consideration to the player's escalating temper based on the fact that Swansea, who couldn't deal with him within the laws of the game, spent the whole match tripping him over and fouling him. However, he was also prepared to go back some time after the fact to book Costa after he made a really stupid foul and equally deserved to be punished. Players like him are difficult to manage, no question, not to mention the monumental level of scrutiny that attends every decision made regarding Costa aided by a multitude of analytical effort hours after the officials have had to make a split second decision, effort that is not spent on any other player and is then drummed up into hysteria by the press plebs. Marriner largely kept a level head and didn't ruin the game. I appreciated that even if he was a cockwomble for missing the foul on Cahill.
It's a dubious stretch to try and make Costa the panto villain when the opposition have kicked seven shades of shit out of him. For once, I thought he was the wronged party. Whether it was a plan or the way they play (I don't watch enough of Swansea to know) they were at him the the whole game. As much as he can drive you bonkers, It was that same relentless intensity that has done things like drag us off the floor and back into the game when we went 0-2 down at home against Everton last season. He balances on the line between what is acceptable and what isn't and when he doesn't he's not half the player. Sometimes he will go too far but today was not one of those days.
Everyone may hate him, but my stance is, that in the words of Niall Quinn, (I know, I never thought I'd quote Mr Beige either, all the pundits are getting Reservoir Dogs style nicknames - Zola is Mr Blue obviously) they hate him because he plays against them like his life depends on it. But they would all want him on their team. Despite having got his own booking, which he deserved. he didn't fight or attempt to kill anyone, despite the fact that he was targeted for ninety minutes. Instead he channelled it successfully and used that intensity to score two goals. Whatever you say about him, can you deny that that is an improvement on when he first arrived?
Here's a stat if you don't believe that Swansea might have been cynical enough to make niggling at him part of their game plan. All of their bookings were for fouls on Costa. And no player has been fouled more in a single game than he was today. (Seven times) But you won't see that in the papers tomorrow.
On a lighter note, please God can we learn to do something constructive with a corner?
So proper football is back. I haven’t been so relieved since Drobga banged that penalty in in Munich, or since the rumours that we were going to sign Lukaku back for £75m went away.
England - Thank God it was only one match. It was probably as underwhelming and turgid as any sane person anticipated when they saw who got the job. (See previous post for the blow by blow pain of sitting through it, or for what I was reduced to on Netflix to kill this endless break) Perhaps a bit worrying that Sam Allardyce (who at least stopped gnawing on gum long enough for the post match interview) is willing to let Rooney choose where he plays and basically do what he wants. Given that leaving him to his own devices ends in him banging someone’s nan, suggest he revisit this policy.
Transfer Deadline Day (I’m not doing the whole window, because lets face it, we’re all just f**king glad its over till January - although - Wilshere *laughing so much it hurts*) The usual yellow-themed circus of over-the-top and cringeworthy sh*t coverage from Sky. Since they’ve done away with the random sex toys and blow up dolls being thrown into shot it is just no fun anymore. Poor M’Villa - if David Moyes is screening your calls you need to take a step back and reassess your life. Everton got dumped in style by Moussa Sissoko who was screening calls, then tried to act like they were dumping him first by “withdrawing” their offer of employment when he was already on the way to North London. Is their PR person a fifteen year old girl? Then there was a moment where Sp*rs might not have got it through and then he would have had to stay at Newcastle. That would have been entertainment. Then as the clock wound down we had to put up with Merson veering from stating the obvious, to talking gibberish. As I said on Facebook at the time, the 11pm deadline was only introduced to make sure the pubs were closed by the time he got out the studio.
I’m not sure how I feel about us paying £20m plus for someone who used to be in Bolton’s defence, but Alonso will hopefully prove me wrong. As for Sideshow. Let’s take a moment to laugh at Sky for pretending the deal was done with seven minutes to go when he was blatantly already a Chelsea player again by the time Bake-Off started. (Shut up. You all watch it. There’s nothing wrong with cake porn)
There will be some moments of absolute brilliance on a par with any defender we could have signed, there will be some moments of sheer horror, and a fair amount of (literally) hair-raising bonkers-ness. (If that isn’t a word it should be) The man is a loon, but he seems thoroughly determined to be OUR loon and that will go most of the way to helping people forget his running past the shed end celebrating dumping us out of Europe. And everyone seems more excited that he might be a viable alternative to Matic at the back of midfield than the thought of him in defence. For good reason. In short, I have come to terms with this. He’s batshit crazy. But he is family. Like a random and slightly creepy uncle who turns up at family party and spends the whole time on the bouncy castle with the kids.
Which only leaves my Bi-Annual Report on Chelsea's Loanees - which I like to call “Where the f**k have all those players I forgot existed been farmed out to this time?”
Cuadrado appears to be the playing equivalent of a mangy stray dog you adopted, who then destroyed your furniture and your carpets. They probably started by moving his locker outside, then taking away his parking space. Chelsea are now on the bit where you try to not-so-subtly convince the mutt to move on again without resorting to animal cruelty. But here is the list in full:
Nathan Baxter (on loan to Metropolitan Police until 15 January 2017)
Mitchell Beeney (on loan to Crawley Town until 3 January 2017)
Jamal Blackman (on loan to Wycombe Wanderers until 3 January 2017)
Matej Delač (on loan to Mouscron-Péruwelz until 30 June 2017)
Nathan Aké (on loan to Bournemouth until 30 June 2017)
Baba Rahman (on loan to Schalke 04 until 30 June 2017)
Andreas Christensen (on loan to Borussia Mönchengladbach until 30 June 2017)
Jake Clarke-Salter (on loan to Bristol Rovers until 30 June 2017)
Dion Conroy (on loan to Aldershot Town until 15 January 2017)
Alex Davey (on loan to Crawley Town until 3 January 2017)
Michael Hector (on loan to Eintracht Frankfurt until 30 June 2017)
Tomáš Kalas (on loan to Fulham until 30 June 2017)
Matt Miazga (on loan to Vitesse until 30 June 2017)
Wallace (on loan to Grêmio until 30 June 2017)
Kenneth Omeruo (on loan to Alanyaspor until 30 June 2017)
Victorien Angban (on loan to Granada until 30 June 2017)
Christian Atsu (on loan to Newcastle United until 30 June 2017)
Lewis Baker (on loan to Vitesse until 30 June 2017)
Jérémie Boga (on loan to Granada until 30 June 2017)
Charlie Colkett (on loan to Bristol Rovers until 30 June 2017)
Juan Cuadrado (on loan to Juventus until 30 June 2019)
Cristián Cuevas (on loan to Sint-Truiden until 30 June 2017)
Jordan Houghton (on loan to Doncaster Rovers until 3 January 2017)
Kenedy (on loan at Watford until 30 June 2017)
Charly Musonda (on loan to Real Betis until 30 June 2017)
Nathan (on loan to Vitesse until 30 June 2017)
Kasey Palmer (on loan to Huddersfield Town until 30 June 2017)
Danilo Pantić (on loan to Excelsior until 30 June 2017)
Mario Pašalić (on loan to Milan until 30 June 2017)
Lucas Piazon (on loan to Fulham until 15 January 2017)
Tammy Abraham (on loan to Bristol City until 30 June 2017)
Patrick Bamford (on loan to Burnley until 30 June 2017)
Isaiah Brown (on loan to Rotherham United until 30 June 2017)
Islam Feruz (on loan to Mouscron-Péruwelz until 30 June 2017)
Alex Kiwomya (on loan to Crewe Alexandra until 9 January 2017)
Loïc Rémy (on loan to Crystal Palace until 30 June 2017)
Joao Rodríguez (on loan to Santa Fe until 30 June 2017)
Bertrand Traoré (on loan to Ajax until 30 June 2017)
BACK TO THE REAL FOOTBALL!
Palace, who are away to Boro, could probably have done with Remy this weekend. But he’s been ruled out injured for two months. Already. That’d be walking from the car to the training pitch then. At least that is long enough for him to suss the offside rule. Impressively, Boro are 6th at the moment. TV have learnt their lesson about showing West Ham swiftly, and they are at home (well, continue to squat at the Olympic stadium) to Watford at 3pm. Elsewhere, bottom placed Stoke take on Sp*rs, Hull try to keep their run going away at Burnley, Wenger will get another warm welcome at home to Southampton and Tony Pulis will attempt to bore everyone to death at Bournemouth. On Sunday we’re the only game but on Monday night David Moyes entertains (now there is an oxymoron if ever I heard one) Everton at 8pm.
Which leaves the early kick off tomorrow. Pep vs. HWWNBN. Will it be tiki taka or park the bus, how will City fare without Aguero? Will Rashford get off the bench? How does Ibrahimovic manage to keep his nose onside? Will Pep every learn to dip his head in some foundation to stop the glare from distracting us all? Who cares. As long as it’s a draw and some hamstrings pop to give us an easier ride in the coming weeks. (don’t judge me, they still get paid). I’ve got Chelsea questions to answer first. Like how many more ways can Eden find to tell us all that he didn’t respect HWWNBN because he was never a top class player? And what the f**k has happened to Van Ginkel?
Antonio Conte Assessment: (Given our history with managers I intend to keep a close eye on this one. Each week, using all of my FBI profiling skills, meticulously absorbed watching 12 seasons of Criminal Minds, I will rate him on the Mourinho Scale, a careful and scientific calculation based on the premise that the more dishevelled and tramp-like a manager gets, the more he is about to strike the male menopause and have a total meltdown) Antonio was a bit croaky and not really in the mood today (not helped by bellend questions from the media that had little to do with Chelsea). Press conference this morning started - for the benefit of the blokes - a bit like trying to to have a conversation with your missus when she says everything is fine, but you have obviously done something stupid. And it isn’t. However, still groomed to a proper level of personal hygiene and smiling away by the end, so I’m going to keep it at Defcon 1. No sign of a meltdown anytime soon. (Those not familiar with such speak, that is normal and it goes up to 5 when the Russians are coming).
They’ve only had their first training session with everybody back this morning. Boss wouldn’t answer whether or not the new boys play tomorrow, because he is not an idiot… Again they press plebs were trying to press him on whether or not Luiz was bought to be a midfielder, and again, he gave the sensible answer, which is that we bought a centre back but it is good that he is adaptable. Then we wasted ten minutes of our lives while some idiot asked him a load of pointless questions about the Manchester Derby, including did he intend to watch it on tv. No mention of any injuries, but presumably Zouma still isn’t ready.
Fun facts about Swansea: What is it with these feisty bloody mascots? Cyril the Swan was banned for two games in 1999 because he got into a ruck with Norwich City’s Director of Football during a tie. This is hilarious on many levels, but none so much as the idea of someone at director level deciding that it was acceptable from a PR standpoint to argue with someone in a six foot bird suit. Cyril the Swan, who is white, obviously, was almost replaced by Sid the Cygnet, who was black (hurrah for diversity). But then he wasn’t. And they insist that we are all racist. Why get his hopes up? Where are those black lives matter people from Westminster when you need them? (Of course they do, before anyone starts. If you are going to troll someone, troll Brian Hamilton, who picked a fight with a giant fake bird).
A clean sheet would be nice, as we haven’t kept one in the last five away games. Having said that, Diego Costa has scored more goals against Swansea than any other Premier League team. I am feeling quite positive about this, as our opponents are trying to avoid a third defeat in a row, but Swansea seem to be very up and down. Fingers crossed whoever the boss goes for, they put in a good effort and we keep our uneaten run going any which way we can. As someone up in the grey wastelands of the north has to drop points this weekend, that will do me fine. I’m going to go… 2-1 Chelsea because I’m trying to be an optimist.
So for a while I’ve been on a quest to find the worst film on Netflix. The rules are simple, it can’t go on your list unless you sit through it until the credits roll. So, “Enough” with Jennifer Lopez was winning (I’d literally had enough after ten minutes but I made it to the end.) This international break I decided to roll out the big guns. Twilight. In retrospect, this was not so much funny as just plain stupid. Also, a lot of gin was involved. Then I thought about ranting about it on the blog and voila.
This challenge turned out to be simultaneously the most hilarious and disturbing thing I have ever seen.
In film one a moody teenage girl with emotional issues and oversized front teeth moves in with her dad and a whole load of attachment issues that result in her clinging like a limpet to Cedric Diggory from the Harry Potter films. He turns out to be a vampire. (Conveniently the fact that he is a soulless blood sucker is avoided at all costs and he is portrayed merely as a very pasty boy band member who goes shiny in sunlight.) He only sucks on animals apparently. So that’s ok then. This was basically it. Evidently the production team realised after what seems like five HOURS that nothing else was happening and they needed to end this shit and suddenly out of nowhere there is some vendetta with some angry vampires and a really creepy scene where Cedric is sucking on her arm. (I think we are supposed to warm to him because he packs it in before she dies.) Which unfortunately means there is a sequel.
Moving on to film two. He leaves her. Possibly because she turns into an incessant, age-obsessed nag who won’t shut up about him making her a vampire too. And she spends an hour or so displaying completely unrealistic mourning tendencies that any sane parent would have had her committed for. Literally, it puts Queen Victoria to SHAME. As it is her dad just threatens to send her back to her mother. (Punishment indeed - as she is blatantly a mad stoner in denial that she is approaching menopause.) Enter scowly teen who is apparently a werewolf, stomping around being pissed off. Possibly not a werewolf. Probably hallucinations brought on by the rampant steroid use between the first and second films. Anyway. He wants her to be his girlfriend. But then he also doesn’t in case he accidentally eats her. And I thought I had it hard as a teenager. Having buggered off and given us all a break from his mopey anaemic expression for much of the film (I rejoiced), the pasty one, relying on visions from his cracked out vampire sister, thinks the girl with issues is dead, (If only) then tries to top himself by glistening in public (what the fuck?) Which involves a mad dash to Italy by her during which at no point does a sensible adult intervene, so she can stop him. It left a multitude of questions unanswered, such as, where did she get the air fare? And, does the vampire sister have a passport? How did they manage to hire a car? Unfortunately he survives and comes back, resulting in three more films. (By the way, I think the vampire “family” is code for an endless gangbang. There is something really pervy about it. Oh, and Daddy Vampire, who is about five minutes older than the rest of them, he’s a doctor. Instead of eating people he wants to fix them. It’s so poetic. If I was a complete fucking sap this might have brought a tear to my eye.)
By the beginning of the third film, at least the father has realised that his kid has serious fucking issues and that less time spent with pasty bloke is better. In fact, unbeknownst (great word) to him, she’s deteriorated even further. Now she has succeeded in convincing someone to bite her after graduation. (A rare display of prioritising sensible objectives.) This makes scowly steroid wolf boy even more pissed off. It could just be roid rage. Also, he appears to have neither the funds nor the inclination to facilitate wearing a shirt anymore. Ever. At some point, although the wolves and the vampires hate each other they decide to team up because some quickly fabricated bad shit is to go down. This facilitates heart to heart between the two idiots who haven’t sussed that this girl is bad news. She snogs the wolf, but agrees to marry the pasty one, but she also loves the wolf. The fact that she can’t make up her mind between steroid wolf and Cedric surely should tell her that committing to umpteenth lifetimes and you know, picking death, is jumping the gun a bit. This is on top of planning to do a runner for good without telling her parents. Shortly afterwards the battle starts, against who, I honestly don’t care anymore, but it involves Richie Cunningham from Happy Days’s daughter. Note that the miserable vampire lover is not there doing any of the fighting. She is hiding in snow covered mountains with no coat on and not shivering. (the one that caused all this) Apparently, she never felt normal (er, what teenager does?) so this becoming a vampire is a justifiable career path. It apparently proves she is doing it for the right reasons. Jesus wept. There are literally no limits to how selfish these idiots are. So unfortunately, every one is still alive, and they are all buddies now. I envy Richie’s daughter having her head ripped off, because she won’t have to sit through two more films.
But I am not determined to sit through this dogshit till the bitter end now in the name of blogging, and because I can’t stand losing. Which is less of a stretch than this Godforsaken plot. Film four begins with my worst nightmare. Wedding. He reveals he actually ate some people. But its ok because they were potential rapist murderers. ‘You probably saved more lives than you took,” she says. I had to knock it on the head for the day at this for fear of choking on my own vomit. The parents are actually up for this, by the way. This might be the hardest thing to swallow so far in this series of drivel, and that is saying something. They haven’t put their 18 year old emotionally disturbed kid in the boot of a car and got her the fuck out of there. And only one person has the sense to ask if she is knocked up. At the beginning of these films he couldn’t sniff her without wanting to chow down. Now we’re supposed to believe that 200 odd vampires are civil enough to attend a wedding mounted with a human buffet and it ends well. Sigh. Then you have to sit through the honeymoon. When he takes her to South America. Yep, not danger from sunlight there. It got worse when after two weeks (yes, two weeks it felt like it) she realises she is pregnant. Pasty boy trips out (yup, not so perfect now you realise you can knock her up, is she) Wolfboy, who has clothes again, and a motorcycle, is pissed off. Again. My next worst nightmare? Pregnancy talk, none of which covers how a dead bloke makes sperm. Including obviously cartoon wolves talking about babies. This must be what it feels like to have a season ticket for a team managed by Tony Pulis. So now the writers have suddenly realised again that there is no action (seeing a pattern here?) so immediately everyone wants to kill the pregnant bird and her demon spawn. Out of everything, I have the least trouble believing this. I then had to sit through vampire twat CHEWING the baby out of her. (I was actually losing the will to live myself at this point.) Which of course kills her. So now, wait for it… it’s ok to turn her into a vampire. And Wolf Boy has decided he is going imprint himself on the baby. So now it’s safe. I shit you not. People flocked to the cinema for this garbage. And it still isn’t over. She wakes up as a vampire, and this sorry franchise goes on.
So film five, (which I decided to do despite the risk now of clawing my own eyes out) infinitely more pointless than splitting the last Harry Potter book into two films and putting us all through “Harry Potter and the Long Arse Camping Trip.” But this is the last one, praise baby Jesus. I will not be defeated.
She wakes up in full face makeup and we are led to believe that being dead is better than being alive, because you are thinner (i.e. on the fringe of anorexia) prettier (airbrushed) and hornier. (I’m going to go out on a limb and say the maniac that wrote this made her therapist, very VERY rich, especially with the obsession about remaining eighteen FOREVER). There’s a load of domesticated vampire shit, except the fact that everyone else seems to be doing the parenting for a CGI baby. (Had to be computer generated because no sane parent would let their child near the scene of this madness.) Yawn, yawn, double yawn - child (who is a mute, I wouldn’t want to engage the gangbang vampire ‘family’ in conversation either) ageing faster than Charlotte Church when she discovered alcopops.
(Speaking of the ‘family,’ I was always under the impression that when the ‘mother’ was in Grey’s Anatomy, they used prosthetics to make her face look like that after it was supposed to have been rebuilt when a ten ton concrete pylon fell on it, but it turns out that is JUST her face!)
Familiar dilemma - there appears to be no plot. So let’s make one up sharpish. Brian Clough wants to kill the vampire spawn. Well, the guy who was Brian Clough in The Damn United who is now shaming himself in this shit with a bad wig on. For no apparent reason, or one that I missed because I, just, didn’t, give, a shit anymore, the answer to this is an endless stream of ethnic minorities wearing contact lenses come and sit while the mute spawn rubs their faces, and now they’re like, a gang, or something. The stereotyping of nationalities is so racist it is laughable. Fat ginger Irish people, albino Russians, South American generic tribespeople in loin cloths. I’m just sitting here watching the clock go down. And so it ambles on and on. And there isn’t nearly enough bloodshed and none of them die. There was a promising moment when the ground opened up and attempted to swallow Cedric, but unfortunately he survived. Actually the whole fight scene wasn’t real. What? So there is no fight scene. Whatever, at least it means it is almost over. If I hadn’t been watching the US Open out of the corner of my eye to keep a tangible link with something sane this might well have ended me. (Damn you, Nishikori, you are messing up my accumulator!) What happened in the end? Nothing. More sappy indie music, more yapping, and I think the wolf is going to bang the little girl. Another example of a young woman being robbed of all her choices in life so a pouty bloke can hump her.
In summary I blame this whole series on a lack of discipline on the part of her mother, and the absence of the father in her formative years, as well as the woman that wrote it being patently bonkers. Had there been some sort of psychiatric intervention either on her or her characters a) this shit wouldn’t have lasted as long and b) there would have been more gender positive and not 16th Century in its portrayal of a young woman who’s biggest want in life is to trail after her boyfriend for eternity, have babies and do what he tells her. At no point does she consider just fucking off the werewolf and the vampire and say, finishing her education and living a normal life. This is bad on so many levels.
To end, this is the most backward, chauvinistic, emotionally disturbed claptrap ever penned. Presumably this has given an entire generation of brainwashed pre-teenage girls completely unrealistic relationship expectations, as well as convincing them that you’re better off dead before you suffer the ignominy of your nineteenth birthday. In reality, these two were together, she cheated on him with a married bloke like a slutbag and he dumped her. And she ended up gay. That is reality people. Also, if a bloke has 110 odd years experience of being a bloke and hasn’t tried to bang you, till the fourth film, there is something wrong with him. Do not let your daughters watch this shit. It will set them back 200 years.
The fact that the author is minted and none of the massively talented writers I know are, makes me despair of the literary profession. That it is penned by a mother, who has ACTUAL RESPONSIBILITY over tiny human lives is truly terrifying. I am the furthest thing from a bra-burning feminist, but Emmeline Pankhurst is literally rolling in her grave right now.
An Abstract, Real Time Perspective of Slovakia Vs. England
16:58: There best be a no gum chewing clause in Allardyce’s contract. Yuck. At least he is wearing a suit, even if he does look like he hasn’t had it out the back of the wardrobe since 1974. #PolyesterKing
16:59: Bored already.
17:00: Kick off (does sign of the cross)
00:56 on the clock: Wayne Rooney is almost 31? I remember when he was 17 (and still bald) God I’m old.
1:19: Taken me this long to notice (or care) that we are wearing red. Or that we are playing Slovakia and not Slovenia. That’s how much I care about international football.
4:14: Token 30 seconds laughing at how stupid Sterling looks when he runs.
6:56: One kick from Joe Hart tells you why nobody wants him.
8:48: My accumulator already looks shit.
10:05: We can all at least take solace from the fact that the England band aren’t there with their three song repertoire of awfulness.
13:04: Token 30 seconds laughing at Sterling’s latest hairstyle. Looks like a girl called Carol who was in my class at primary school. Who on earth was still naming their kid Carol in the 80s?
15:52: I wonder where Wilshere is watching this. *Lol*
17:01: I despise these Achy Breaky Heart songs. It’s almost as annoying as the “Just Can’t Get Enough” craze. I’d say we should outdo them all with a full blown song to the tune of Bohemian Rhapsody at the Bridge. But our lot can’t even clap The Liquidator in time. And some had allocated Luiz’s tune to Kante. I foresee a conflict somewhere down the line…
20:15: Has anyone else seen anything yet that suggests we might not be as shit and boring under Allardyce as we were under Hodgson?
22:08: Why do I do this to myself?
24:46: Urgh he’s got the gum out. It’s like watching a big stupid cow with bad dress sense that’s been put out to pasture. Don’t be surprised if the next time the camera turns on Allardyce he’s munching on the pitch.
29:35: Can you imagine having a season ticket to watch a Pulis team and seeing football like this every… single… week.
30:03-32:47: Three minute interval sharing a dairylea dunker with the cat. Basically if I give him the pot and the cheese he will let me extract the breadsticks and eat them in peace.
35:09: Things that would be more interesting than England: Playing Charades with Michael Owen.
37:03: Danny Rose you bellend. Put it in Row Z.
38:26: Think of the Queen, and Nelson, and Rule Britannia, and the War. Winston Churchill… Would… Want… You… To… Sit… Through… This… Shit.
40:19: Joe Hart attempts to prove he can use his feet, resulting in 0% accuracy and cementing the end of any meaningful career are almost entertaining.
43:49: My accumulator looks even more shit now.
45:30: Skrtel can’t take anymore. He’s huddled in the foetal position.
Halftime: Ian Wright? OK. I’ve got to draw a f*cking line somewhere. (Goes to put kettle on.)
Jesus - Rooney and Kane having an in depth conversation on their way out. Talk about a meeting of the minds. Suggest they were discussing
Allardyce waddled out to the dugout and all I could hear in my head was the theme tune to Z Cars. And The Sweeney.
47:19: My cat can’t take anymore either. He’s just tried to swallow an elastic band.
48:15: Things that would less tortuous than watching England: Playing charades with Michael Owen AND Robbie Savage.
48:46: Apparently Dier was sick the night we played Iceland. Whole f*cking country was sick that night thanks to the likes of you mate.
49:57: Just as dull and uncreative as every Sunderland/West Ham/Bolton game I have every watched the man manage. Can paint a turd, folks. Can even wrap one in a retro polyester suit. It’s still a turd.
51:35: Adam Lallana is literally stealing a living by pretending to be a footballer.
53:53: There is more movement on Southern’s rail network than there is in this England team.
55:07: Is there nobody that could make a more convincing left back than Danny Rose? I’m pretty sure we could zap Stuart Pearce with a defibrilator and shove him out there and he would be more alert at the back.
56:09: Watching this England team play Trivial Pursuits live would be infinitely more interesting than watching them pretending to play football.
57:53: Skrtel commits football suicide so he can just f*ck this off and go to the bar.
59:33: Fat Tony Pulis, He’s just a fat Tony Pulis…
63:20: A goal is the big thing missing from Lallana’s international CV apparently. The small things obviously being dribbling, tackling, controlling the ball, heading the ball and the ability to pass to a team mate.
68:36: Theo Walcott. Bringing out the big guns. If by big you mean shit and always injured.
71:55 I struggle to accept how a country that produced Take That, Land of Hope and Glory, roast dinners and the Duke of Wellington is also responsible for this shower of shit football.
76:35: Walcott. Couldn’t hit a barn door with a cruise missile.
77:30: I think Danny Drinkwater wears a toupee.
78:04: No wonder Victor Moses pretends to be Nigerian. That he’s from Croydon is another reason. Nobody wants to admit that.
80:56: I’ve lost track of how many times Danny Rose has pretended to be dying in this match. And then got up as if nothing is wrong with him.
82:00: Walcott is the English Kalou. Makes an art form of turning round in circles and then losing the ball/faceplanting the pitch.
83:22: If only Sturridge’s legs were made of stronger stuff than weetabix. That might have gone in.
86:12: Rooney not as his best today, says State-the-Obvious Hoddle. Today’s a day that ends in a Y post-2005 then.
88:37: Jesus wept. Come back Emile Heskey. All is forgiven.
89:41: My mum has a better understanding of the offside rule than Theo Walcott.
93:11: I deserve gin. A lot of gin. And possibly (definitely) maltesers.
94:58: God help us. Lallana will play again next time now. And Allardyce will think this was a positive experience.
One word. Chumps.
Less than seven days till kick off at our own international fixture in Swansea. #countdown
P.S. Has Kevin Bacon lost all his money in a pyramid scam or spent it all on meth? If not is there any acceptable reason for these EE ads? (We all know Britney would do pretty much anything for money).