Good morning to you all. It’s a holiday here today so you’re getting a holiday edition blog, brought to you with customary green *boilk*
Yes, ’tis St Patrick’s day. A day when lots of people pretend to be Irish and the Irish get really drunk so we don’t notice all the cunts pretending to be Irish. I’m already on my 16th pint of the day. Well, a man has to get warmed up for the main event later on.
Honorary Irishman Gilberto Silva reckons he’s going to have to leave Arsenal in the summer, unless he breaks into the first team. Sorry Gilbo, I just can’t see it happening. The saddest part about Gilberto’s decline is how, when given chances this season, he has singularly failed to take them and has looked pretty much disinterested. I think giving the captaincy to Gallas fucked his head up. Sad.
Not content with spending £25m on Petit and Overmars and then £16.5m on mindfucked crock Thierry Henry, it seems Barcelona want Emmanuel Eboue. I don’t know why. Perhaps they need somebody to provide tours of the Camp Nou in a tiger costume. Either way the news that they are after him has returned me to God. As a stringent atheist before this I’m hedging my fucking bets and doing some serious praying that for once the rumours are true. Come on God, send Eboue to Barcelona. It’s only fair after Paris.
William Gallas on our recent performances:
I will tell you why there was a difference between the performance at Milan and then in our next game at Wigan — it was in the head. Sometimes after a huge game in the Champions League it’s difficult to find the same level of motivation for the following game. In fact, what we needed was an even higher level than we had in Milan. We all have to understand that quickly because time is running out this season.
Oh, you’re the captain Johnny Talkalot. No point telling the fans that. We already fucking know. Get it into the heads of the lads you so proudly, so immodestly referred to as ‘my players’ after the Milan game. It’s time for Gallas, as captain, to stand up and be fucking counted now. Lead by example and, just in case anyone is in any doubt, the example isn’t sitting on your hole after a match crying.
No doubt there’ll be some other news this morning but as I’m planning on having a lie-in I’m setting this to auto-post at 8.30am. If I’m before that you’ll never see this bit and if I wake up after then I’ll update with the morning news when I get up?
Confused? How can I have had my 16 pints if I haven’t gotten up yet? I had them before I went to bed. But after midnight, so it still counts.
Anyway, more later. Probably. Or maybe not. May the road rise with you, happy St Patrick’s day and mine’s a pint. You cunts.
