First we consider the matter of the Football Association’s Crock of Shit first: that is, the charging of Monsieur Jacques for his utterances upon the victory omnibus on Sunday last.
We know from past behaviour that the Football Association is hardly stocked with Britain’s finest minds. So on the off chance that one of the wretched, blundering, lowborn dunces is reading this, I shall take things veeeery sloooowly.
Our Number 10 was merely asking for an opinion from the assembled masses of joyful Gooners. He asked, very clearly, what they thought of Tottenham. The crowd briefly considered the evidence – over a century of abject failure, 20 years of finishing below Arsenal, and a support largely made up of the criminally insane who once burnt down their own town to obtain some training shoes – and replied that they thought Tottenham were shit.
In response, Jacques neatly turns the original question on its head, perverto peversi, peversum and inquires as to their opinion of shit. The crowd reply with unerring logic that they think that shit is Tottenham. Quad erat demonstrandum – what was specified in the enunciation has been exactly stated at the conclusion of the demonstration. He thanks the crowd for their opinion and they in turn express their gratitude for his politeness.
So the FA, in their finite wisdom, is charging a footballer for not only merely asking for an opinion, but one which was sought with the utmost politeness and conviviality. Moreover, the crowd’s view, that Tottenham are shit, is demonstrably the truth. So, well done the Football Association, you crew of gorbellied wingnuts. Weekly at the White Hart Lane Delusionbowl©® they refer to each other by a racist epithet, and yet nothing is done about that.
M. Wilshère, when summoned to sit before the Football Association’s kangaroo court, in their powdered periwigs, would be well within his rights to bring along the FA Cup, and proceed to defecate into it, before them, whilst uttering the words “I’m just having a little Tottenham” before polishing his starfish with their charge sheet. He might then pull out a Dunhill International and light it up whilst humming the National anthem of France. That would show the buggers.
Nobody thus far has pointed out the defamation of one of the main characters in this sorry tale: Shit. I endeavoured then to discover exactly how shit has been feeling during this whole sorry saga and arranged an interview with it to seek clarification on the matter.
Good afternoon. I have with me a very special guest. Someone we all know very well. Someone we meet at least once a day for a fleeting moment. Yes, with me now, is Mr. Jobby, Uncle Grumpy, The Deuce, The Bomb, The Chocolate Hostage, The Coil, The Brown Python, Mr. Hanky… yes, it’s the one and only Shit.
Hello, thank you for having me.
You are welcome. As you know, there has been something of a brouhaha over one of our younger players this weekend last.
Yes – I have seen the video. He compares me to Tottenham, and Tottenham to me.
And what do you think of that?
I was grossly offended by that. I don’t mind being used as a relatively mild exclamation, but I do mind being compared to those Middlesex scumbags. By all means say, “this food is shit” or “Shit! I accidentally shot my friend,” but to associate me with that gang of home county failures is beyond the pale. But no one ever thinks of me. Most things I can take, but this is too much.
It is generally heard every week at The Emirates.
And don’t I know it. I always thought Arsenal fans to be decent sorts, but really, this has gone too far. Could I suggest that the response to “What do you think of Tottenham?” should be “nothing. We literally think nothing of them.” MUCH more scathing, and I would be spared the psychological harm of being compared to them week after week. My children are watching, for god’s sake.
I shall make enquiries.
So, dear ladies and gentleman of N5 and beyond – think of the consequences of your words when comparing Tottenham to shit, because shit doesn’t like it.