La boca de la cueva: 01/09/2011

30 September 2011

Keeping and reading blogs increases cancer risk

29 September 2011

Gah

To be fair I haven't felt tip top recently and I think my recent groinal dramas coupled with a lack of foods, sleep and personal hygiene has lead to the inevitable chest infection. I knew this morning in fact that my condition needed attention when I drew back my bedroom curtains to find a number of opportunistic vultures waiting on my drive way and window sill for what they must have assumed was an easy meal.

They had obviously read about me in What Carcass? magazine*. I need to remember to close my bedroom windows at night. So anyway yes, I will head to the big house again on Tuesday although of course I will not be staying any longer that it takes to have a nice cup of tea and my IV inserted.

I pity anyone who has any length of time as an NHS in-patient in their futures. My advice if you're one of those unfortunate bastards is to pretend you're in prison or on a British Navy ship in the 18th century. Make an adventure of it and keep a healthy stash of rum handy as they'll be very little ho ho ho.

Good luck everyone.

*Joke stolen from Red Dwarf

Carlos Tevez to not look quite so smug

Carlos Tevez emailed into the blog last night to explain that if he faces spending the rest of his life on golf courses and beaches and being pampered by a 22 year old sexology graduate he met while trying to escape from Manchester, he could probably cope with that.

Manchester City are making noises about sacking Tevez after the typically untrustworthy and thieving Argie gave a new and literal meaning to the word "striker" on Tuesday night by refusing to come off the bench in their Champions League game against the square heads in Moonchen, claiming he couldn't really be bothered.

But a source close to City owner Sheikh it-al-labout who also emailed into the blog just now claims that if Carlos Tevez thinks he can disgrace an Arab and swan off to St Andrews he knows nothing about the Arabs.

His email explained how the Skeikh is planning to "go old school on Tevez" and "wipe that smile off the deformed bit of his head where usually people keep their face." Our source also heard him talking on the phone to someone from China about the situation!

"First," the email continued, "his hands will be removed with bolt cutters, his legs will then be bound in piano wire and the little bits of his skin protruding through the wires will be loped off piece by piece day by day over the course of the remaining 36 months of his contract.

"If he survives he will then be released on a Bosman. If he can do anything after that other than cry then good luck to him."

Meanwhile his two young daughters are currently buried up to their wastes in the Sheikh's eldest son's personal sandpit where they will be stoned to death as part of his 21st birthday celebrations on Saturday. He can't wait apparently.

28 September 2011

Too little too late

Well now it was a bittersweet evening's sports wagering. Our Champions League yankee finally returned a significant enough profit to finance the exit visas of nurses Suki and Ling Ling from China who I was in desperate need of to head up my personal medical staff.

Unfortunately the lengthy delays have allowed a feindish Russian cabillionaire to swoop in and gazump me. Consequently Suki and Ling Ling are now in Moscow probably applying a liberal measure of an Eastern soothing balm not know to us here in the west to the chest and genitals of Vladimir Krotcykhgitcnivoviociciv.

I will instead invest my winnings on tins of beans and American football pads to prepare for the coming apocalypse caused by Germans who thought they could enjoy an symbiotic economic relationship with Greeks and other nations who consider paying taxes to be just something that happens to other people.

We're doomed people. Doomed. It's every man woman and child for him her and itself. Good luck everyone.

26 September 2011

We're doomed. Good luck everyone.

This is what we've been saying here on the blog for many months now. It's every man woman and child for his her and itself. Good luck everyone.

25 September 2011

A final throw of the dice

I have unfortunately only one more opportunity to bring nurses Suki and Ling Ling over from China to head up my personal medical staff. They have become frustrated with the loneliness of our separation and taste of the soups and are considering another offer from a Russian businessman who is also keen to enjoy their unique blend of oriental medicine, therapeutic massage and their gentle pillow fights.

Today's hail Mary NFL wager will have to be successful or I will have to continue on with my fate alone. Alone, sore and sexually frustrated.

If the Gods are still reading my blog, I will need the Houston Texans to win (+4), as well as Oakland (+3), Cincinnati (-2.5) and I will also be betting points in Buffalo 53.5 - I fancy that's a 60+ game.

Good luck everyone.

24 September 2011

Woe is us

I do not feel good today people. I feel tired and sore and my spirits are low. The continued delays in securing the release from China of nurses Suki and Ling Ling are weighing heavily on my tired mind and body.

I am hearing from China that nurse Suki is refusing food too. Ling Ling will not speak, she only stares forlornly to the west from their lonely apartment balcony and sighs. Suki is surviving by drinking her own tears. Ling Ling has only had a small bowl of soup since Thursday.

However, the beginning of the end of our sorrows is approaching. Our trinity will become one very soon. I fully expect this weekend's football wagers to reap such rewards that Suki and Ling Ling will be with me, both fully fed, and administering my convalescence by Tuesday evening.

Of course with each delay I am having to place more and more optimistic wagers as the returns also have to cover the previous loses! Soon I will have to back Arsenal to keep a clean sheet! This weekend's Yankee will require draws between Newcastle and Blackburn and West Brom and Fulham. We will also need Aston Villa and the Totteringtons to win.

If things continue to spiral out of control I will only be able to afford the services of nurse Gladys Emmanuel. I know kids, I'm scared too.

Hmmm...

At this time in my life I have only laughter and the wrath of the Gods to remind me I am still alive. Or as others call it, the Pigeons game. There are no other emotions left as the rest of the time I am asleep.

Now then, I'd like to think I have a keen eye for a joke, but of course in order to stay sharp one has to push the boundaries a little.

At this time I find myself contemplating a gag, a wheeze, a stunt, a lark which could be the stuff of legends, but could also go disastrously wrong. In fact you might say it's two larks in one. What are two larks in the hand worth? At least five or six in the bush? I don't know what the exchange rate is.

Do you find that even though there is a danger of disaster you sometimes have to see the joke through anyway cause otherwise you'll always be left wondering? Like should you urinate in a pint glass and leave it on the coffee table at a party for maybe someone really enormous to drink?

I've been thinking about this for some time now (not urinating in glasses). I've got what I think is a cracking idea in my head, but I may have built it up too much. What if it's not even funny? I have horrible visions of Violet Beauregarde in Charlie and the Chocolate factory.

Sometimes you have to do what you have to do. John Wayne said that so it must be true. I'll keep you informed. I might wait until Suki and Ling Ling have been installed as heads of my personal medical staff. Best be on the safe side.

Boys will be boys

The thing is with these cage fighting children, if they weren't in that cage they'd be in an alley way somewhere in the north and how would we be able to watch it then? You'd have to be local wouldn't you. You'd have maybe twenty people there max. That's not even enough people to warrant a refreshment's van.

Kids have got to be given the latitude to be kids and to police themselves. To settle their own scores. It's playground rules. Just sometimes they need a bit encouraging. But a few CC's of steroids, a baying crowd of low IQ blokes, and a diet of twenty bottles of lucozade and fifteen mars bars a day never hurt anyone.

What annoys me is the people who are up in arms about these contests, outraged by their immorality, are the same people who voted for Jedward when they clearly were less talented the Krankies.

It wasn't just Jedward who will suffer long term emotional damage from their rise to fame. Everyone will suffer. At least with these wrestling children what happens in the ring stays in the ring. Er...so to speak.

So unless you want Jedward in that ring throwing about bitch slaps and bursting into tears half way through round one, or in fact two eight year olds from Doncaster performing on XFactor, just leave it alone. Let it go. LET IT GO.

21 September 2011

Nurses Suki and Ling Ling a step closer

As my regular readers will be aware, I have been struggling for some weeks now to finance the immigration visa expenses of nurses Suki and Ling Ling who are as we speak twiddling their delicate thumbs and pouting their soft full moistened lips in the departure lounge of Shanghai Pudong International airport waiting for the off.

They will head my personal nursing staff and oversee all of my medical and bathing needs. Nurse Ling Ling has qualifications in all the western medical fields and also several ancient eastern techniques unknown to us here in the west involving mysterious pain alleviating fondling. Nurse Suki is skilled in the application of soothing ointments even under the influence of alcohol and opiates.

It is of course imperative they join me here as soon as possible. There really isn't a moment to lose.

The financing of their immigration bureaucracy was helped enormously last night as we enjoyed a significant return on our Tuesday night Carling Cup footballing wagers. In fact my numbers people estimate that if the same returns on Wednesday's investments are realised, both nurses Suki and Ling Ling could be wearing the uniform of the house by Saturday evening. Assuming of course the boots and little hats are a snug fit.

So this evening if Everton, Cardiff, Liverpool and Southampton could oh-blige me, by Saturday evening I could be slippery and pliable, reaping the medicinal rewards of the many many ancient Chinese balms and oils which have been known to reinvigorate the old and relieve the wheezy.

Doomed

For me if tennis players are considering striking, the time for us all here in the west to take some time out and really ask ourselves some searching questions about what is really important in life has long since departed.

Our inability now to apply even a degree of perspective to the smallest of our trials and tribulations represents an unrecoverable position for society. Reinforcing the long since held opinion of the blog that we are doomed.

You shouldn't really be able to play tennis even part-time. No one should be able to make money playing tennis. No one should be able to make money playing any sport really, but tennis especially.

What adverse conditions are tennis players facing that they're considering denying fat women sat at home in front of the telly the pleasure of perving over Rafael Nadal from behind an enormous tub of ice cream?

Is it too windy out? Oh do fuck off.

It's every man, woman and child for him, her and itself. Good luck everyone.

19 September 2011

So anyway..Ouch!

So the dire consequences of nurses Suki and Ling Ling's continued delay in joining me here from China to head my personal medical staff were laid bare literally before me last week as I was pointlessly rushed into A&E by my mother where I sat for hours waiting to be admitted to their emergency surgical ward where I lay for a further 16 hours before having a hernia operation that had had me wincing and ooohing in pain since the previous afternoon.

I had just bought a pizza in fact, which I didn't get to even open. Had Suki and Ling Ling been present they would have been able to apply soothing ointment to my chest and genitals while they played twister on the special oily mat I have here for them, offering me an essential distraction from my groinal agony and preventing me from going into shock.

They would also have been able to accompany me to the hospital where I wouldn't have had to wait ten hours to get a sip of water. I won't go into the entire experience, but suffice is to say I pity anyone who has to use the NHS for anything serious. It doesn't work, which makes it pointless. Even an expensive health service would be better than a free one that didn't work.

Perhaps we'd take more responsibility for our health if we knew it would cost us a fortune if something went wrong. Either way that was an undignified experience in many many ways. Even if they had been wearing those red 'Do Not Disturb' Tabards, I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. Except maybe swing my cock catheter drainage bag at them.

I had occasion to vomit on a nurse called Georgie and I apologised for that as I didn't mean to. It was her last day as it happened. She was last seen pelting down the corridor in tears trying to put as much distance between us as possible and reapply some perspective to her life. Even if it wasn't her last day I suspect it would have been after having her chest drenched in my green stomach bile.

Don't you hate that when you're sick and it's just foul tasting stomach bile that comes up? I was really nauseous too. You know how you get when just moving will make you sick so even though you might be sick anyway you don't want to reach for a bowl cause that will definitely make you chunder. A nasty business.

I'm home now. Horrah. I'm not allowed to drive or lift anything heavy for a week, which is a shame as I was just in the mood to lift something really heavy. Also I can't eat anything that someone from Scotland might eat. Also my penis seems to be a bit left of central. Like there's a gentle breeze wafting it towards the east. I'm wondering if they might have prodded a bit too much back in? Perhaps it'll straighten out when the swelling goes down.

The only positives I can draw from this is that this week's Carling Cup wagers will return such a profit that Suki and Ling Ling could be with me in time to remove my dressing and begin my physiotherapy which according to their emails I won't be able to begin until I lift both legs above my head.

I'd had that hernia since I was 18 you know. It was a femoral hernia, which apparently is rare and usually only occurs with women. I had a woman's hernia. Funny how things occur. One minute you're ordering pizza the next minute your bowels are strangulating and then someone called Mike with a beard is pushing a tube into your cock. This must be how it feels to be a Liberal Democrat.

We're doomed people. You can't rely on anyone for anything no more. It's every man for himself. Good luck everyone.

On a more positive note, my new sofa will arrive on Thursday.

14 September 2011

Champions League

I have spoken briefly to nurses Suki and Ling Ling today. They had occasion to try out a newly developed technique for relieving pain on a gentlemen which I am told involves the patient adopting a seated position in a corner of a small well ventilated room, while the two nurses wrestle in a small paddling pool filled with warm soapy water.

This technique which we here in the west have yet to adopt has produced remarkable results. Anecdotal evidence tells of a man close to death having been suffering from his brain rotting away.

After only a three minute bout he was skipping out of the facility grinning like a Cheshire cat. I am in a great deal of discomfort and although there is a danger this technique will cause me to asphyxiate, I feel at this late stage it is +EV roll of the dice.

So of course as you can see it is vital that this evening's Champions League wager which to be fair I can't even recall placing this morning, return a profit that will finally allow me to register Suki and Ling Ling's exit visa papers with a man called Dong from Shangwang who says he can sort things from there.

The wager is a standard yankee which will require wins for Manchester United, Inter Milan and Lille and a draw between the Villarreals and Bayern Münchens.

I wanted to have a shilling or to on the boys to at least secure a point against Citeh, but I did not want to jinx them. Good luck with all your bets.

Tweet of the day

11 September 2011

NFL week 1

Sadly and frustratingly nurses Suki and Ling Ling's exit visa papers remain unsigned. It is essential they are brought over as soon as possible to head my personal medical staff.

My back is playing up and I've got a sore throat and while my genitals are fine, it can't hurt to have them soaped up and rinsed clean with cascading warm water gently funneled down from between Suki's firm ample bosom.

So following the failures of yesterday's footballing Yankee, the pressure is on to make today's NFL wagers count.

We have placed a yankee and one or two season long wagers: I fancy the Redskins, Ravens, Atlanta and Philadelphia to overcome their handicaps today. And why? I also feel the following divisional conclusions will be concluded at the regular season's conclusion:

NFC North - Green Bay Packers
NFC South - Nawlens Saints
NFC East - The city of brotherly love and bad AIDS Eagles
NFC West - St Louis Rams

AFC North - Baltimore Ravens
AFC South - Indianapolis Colts
AFC East - New England Patriots
AFC West - San Diego Chargers

Superbowl 46 winners - Green Bay Packers

10 September 2011

Saturday's bidness

This weekend's over optimistic attempt to win the monies to finance Nurses Suki and Ling Ling's visa expenses will be a Yankee crafted from minutes of research.

I am of the opinion that Stoke will share the spoils with Liverpool, Aston Villa will beat Everton, Chelsea will beat relegation certainties Sunderland and Wolves will defeat the Totteringtons.

Should I be unsuccessful I will simply win the monies tomorrow instead on an equally keenly crafted wager on the NFL which is back and not before time.

9 September 2011

Gone but not forgotten

Ten years since the world became almost unbearably shit because of some whacked out muslims who took time out from stoning women to death for wanting to look pretty to order a team of brain washed monkeys to fly some planes into the World Trade Center.

Funny because it seems longer. That's probably because time only flies when you're having fun. And this after ten years is something the US of States Government still is unable to fathom.

I don't really give a shit about the wider world now that I've retired from it, but as it's ten years I will say this to America as I know it reads my blog...life is not short, life is long, especially if you make the wrong decisions. You made the wrong decisions.

Terrorism is about making people terrified. The clue is in the name. They don't have to be flying passenger airlines into buildings every weekend to achieve it. It's enough if people just think it's possible.

Putting the whole country in lock-down every time a muslim walks through a crowded area with a cardboard box is not the way to deal with terrorism. The way to deal with them is to not even acknowledge them.

The risk is of course actually getting blown up because you didn't frisk absolutely everyone going anywhere at anytime. But the kind of control the US of States's's's Government has sought to impose on their nation is not possible. There is a power great than the Pentagon and Al Qeada.

You see now, I was buying some doughnuts just recently and an old tired looking man in an old coat and some tatty trousers kept up with a bit of string prodded me in the chest and said in a raspy voice..."Have you got some spare change."

After that another man appeared near him as if by magic, like the shop keeper in Mr Benn in fact. He said to me, "life is not something you can control, it's something that happens to you. Much like a fast moving river. If you fall in you have to go with the current. Let it take you. If you fight it you get tired and sink to the bottom."

If to live means to have to duck-and-cover every time you hear Arabic you may as well be dead. That's what I always say. It's worth taking a bomb in the face if it means you can fly somewhere without being molested and pounded with radiation because some security dude needs to see if you have a bomb in your guts.

The US of States have lost the war on terror because they have been reduced to a paranoid terrified bunch of shivering bitches tangled up a web of conspiracy, counter-conspiracy and self-induced known and unknown shadow chasing lunacy.

The conditions of the minds of those in charge of homeland security are beyond treatment. The situation is unrecoverable. The USA would not be affected by another 9/11, as it already is the worst kind of tragedy.

From the idea of a utopian democracy drawn up by the founding fathers built on a foundation of freedom and liberty - the soul's right to breath - to a suffocating, oppressive incarceration where a six month old baby is frisked for weapons at an airport. In two short centuries.

Let us bow our heads and say a short prayer.

Amen.

We're doomed. It's every man for himself people. Good luck everyone.

Gone in 60 seconds

I went off Georgie Thompson just now in the minute it took me to read on the Daily Mail website how, pissed as a fart, she had crashed her Porsche while trying to park it.

This is beyond wrong of course and in so many ways. She should not even be earning a wage that would allow her to buy a Porsche as all she does is sit on a chair for a living and look into a camera.

She has set the progress of the blonde woman back at least twenty years with this spectacularly poor attempt to parallel park a powerful motor car.

Now when women, blonde women especially, insist the stereotype bimbo image is ignorant and insulting, they will be reminded of the 5ft tall Sky Sports News presenter who began reverse parking her car in Kensington and ended up somewhere in Camden and was relatively happy about it as she staggered head first into a watching Police officer who suffered bruising to his cock.

The thing than appalled me most about this, over and above the brazen lack of consideration for the public who may have been skittled over as she mounted curb after curb, was how fat she looked.

Don't look at me like that feminists. I think Georgie has demonstrated there is no brain behind the looks so it's fine for us to see her only as a piece of meat. An enormous great chunk of it.

I thought the camera added weight? Sky must have special cameras that take it off. No wonder she crashed, those rolls of neck fat would have prevented her seeing behind her. Urghh.. feel queasy. No wonder Dec ditched her.

7 September 2011

Dreams

Every now and then I have a dream where it's the last day of the year long internship I did in New York and everyone in our apartment is packed and ready to leave except me. All of my stuff is everywhere and I don't know where to begin and I feel abandoned by everyone then I wake up and go for a piss.

Also I have another recurring dream where it's the last day of college and I have loads of work still to be handed in and everyone else is finished and sitting about drinking coffee and wondering what to do with their summer.

This last one is actually based on my actual experiences of college as I really was a hair's breath away from failing everything because I left it until the very last moments to hand my work in. Everyone in my class was helping me with it. Everyone except the six or seven people who sat back and watched me panic as they thought I was a cunt who deserved to fail.

Last night the two dreams combined!! I was not packed and my work was not completed. Many many people mocked me. Two guys who laughed at me actually I'm afraid were killed by me! I plunged a knife into one of them and the other one was battered to death with a pipe.

Now, I'm either wrong in the head or should stop watching violent police dramas before bed. I'm just hoping I'm wrong in the head cause Third Watch is my favourite show at the moment. They really shouldn't have cancelled it and these past few weeks of watching all six seasons again has made me feel so alive I'm not stopping now I'm so close to the finale. And you can quote me.

Back in the real world, instead of national service in the Army for our young uns, why not assign them all to a year's service in the emergency services? Not actually where they have to be in contact with people, but doing the crappy tedious jobs that traditionally are filled by illegals and people who are borderline mongers.

Jobs like cleaning the floors in hospitals, doing paper work for the police so they can actually leave their stations and do some proper police work like Office Boscorelli, or cleaning up the gallons of vomit everywhere.

That would be just as character building as charging at straw filled dummies with a bayoneted rifle. Plus the illegals and mongers could then be demoted to even worse jobs like cleaning out ditches and drains and shining street signs and just tidying the place up a bit.

If you go to places like Norway and Sweden the streets are immaculate. It's like an NHS operating theatre only cleaner. They may pay taxes that are higher than George Osborne when he's delivering his budget, but they get something for their taxes. We should too in my opinion and slavery dressed up as national service is really the only way to go.

5 September 2011

Monkey business

Very worrysome dreaming of late. Many times I have been set upon by monkeys. There is nothing on Gah's clean earth more terrifying than an aggressive monkey. Those fingers, the screeching, the sort of fur that isn't quite fur.

Spiders scare me. I'm uncomfortable in the dark, but if I went for a piss in the night and found a monkey in bath tub it must surely be the end of me. I don't know how people in India manage with legions of them pelting through their disease riddled slums all the time. How horrible.

The symbolism is all rather obvious. Or is it? We all know what it means to have a monkey on one's back, but what does it mean to have loads of them swinging about around you and throwing poo about the place?

I would assume it mean chaos, which is funny cause there's anything but chaos in my life as we speak. It's possible though the chaos is Officer Boscorelli's. I am currently living vicariously through him and he's just been shot in the face many many times by some nasty drug dealers. Yes I think that must be it, but I'll let you know if something else turns up.

If you've never seen Third Watch incidentally, seek it out on the You Tubes. It's the most awesome Cop show ever. It's like a combination of NYPD Blue and E.R. They cancelled it after six seasons about five years ago, which was the worst telly decision since the Smallville writers never wrote in a scene where Lois has some difficulty making a cake and gets cream on her tits. That would have been an awesome scene.

* * *

In other news my awesome antique ear trumpet arrived today and I plan to use when people come over who I don't like. I will shout "EH?" at them every time they talk and point the trumpet at them until they feel uncomfortable enough to leave. It's GOLD!

Of my current outstanding 2am eBay purchases I am now just waiting for a charger for an old Panasonic x70 phone, which I will now use not because my iPhone doesn't work and is shit, but because I want to. Cause I feel like it.

Oh I have also taken the decision to start putting pomade in my hair. I want to encourage everyone to return to more traditional hair treatments and jellies.

There's really nothing quite like the smell of lanolin and petrol in the morning.

I forgot what else I wanted to say.

4 September 2011

Disturbing

You have to wonder what kind of person thought issuing nursing staff with red tabards with 'Do Not Disturb' written on them was a good idea. It says 'Do Not Disturb', but what they mean is 'fuck off you're not important enough to warrant my attention.'

I know they have a job to do and all, but if they are genuinely incapable of doing two things at once, there must surely be more tactful ways of keeping their patients at bay, no? And let's not forget nurses are not just interrupted by patients, they're interrupted by other health care professionals too. Which really makes the whole idea pointless.

Apparently if a patient comes up to a nurse wearing one of these tabards procedure is for her to just point at the 'Do Not Disturb' on the front of it and walk off! That's true. I'm laughing as I type this.

I pity the nurse who ever does that to me if I ever need help because I don't care what she's wearing, I don't care if she's roped off with a couple of doorman either side of her, that biatch is helping me.

I of course am more assertive than the average patient. We are a reserved nation by nature and it's not hard to imagine some poor old lady either shitting herself or having a stroke and not asking for help because her 'carers' are all dressed in these fucking tabards.

Hospitals exist for the benefit of patients, if patients aren't important enough to disturb a nurse, who is? Well this of course is a rhetorical question because patients are now just an inconvenience to most nurses who are just doing the minimum until they can get off the wards and into a career involving an office and a relatively decent wage and without being knee deep in a sea of pensioner's bum gravy all day.

Common sense and compassion went the way of the bed side manner some years ago. This is symptomatic of the whole country which has had it's life sucked out of it by an enormous bureaucratic hoover. Patients are statistics, quotas, clients and expenditure way before they're vulnerable sick people who need caring for.

The European Union and it's obsession with political correctness and procedure following has enveloped an entire continent and left no place anywhere for the kind of bonding and human touch that used to be an essential part of the carer patient relationship and is absent also in many other walks of life.

Only Germans could create such a bleak and frigid environment for the vulnerable and the sick to convalesce. Don't get me wrong, there's a place for everyone in this world, even Germans. But their place is usually in the gun turret of a Panzer tank, or working the bellows of a furnace in a concentration camp or perhaps marshaling Arsenal's defense.

The last place you want them is making policy in places where emotions and sensitivity are prerequisites. Let us not forget Germany's most famous doctor is still Joseph Mengele. I don't care what people say about how dry his sense of humour was I don't want people like him doing rounds anywhere near me or anyone I care about.

The creepy tentacles of Euro style communism are sucking the warmth and humanity out of everything and everyone, blackening the hearts of the people we entrust with the care of our children and loved ones and our old folks who we also sort of like a bit, with it's inky poison. POISON!

We're doomed people. Doomed.

I'm just glad my weekend yankee will probably yield the kind of fortune that will finally allow me to bring Suki and Ling Ling over from China to take care of all my medical and therapeutic needs.

In the meantime however, it's every man, woman and child for him, her or itself.

Good luck everyone.

1 September 2011

Transfer deadline day

In the actual real world the transfer window is a relatively calm period where teams bring players in and also ship players out. Sometimes some of these deals are complex and take a long time and are only completed on the final day, but most are completed in time for the season's opening fixture.

On even rarer occasions a deal might be finalised almost in the last minutes of the last day, but this is very rare. Usually for a deal to go through at the last moment in this fashion the team in question will have had to have lost 8-2 a few days previous or something.

Completely detached from all reality on the other hand in Sky Sports land, transfer deadline day is second in importance only to Judgement day itself. The apocalypse; heaven, earth and hell fighting it out to the death.

Twice a season the Premier league, Sky Sports News and their minion reporters standing in completely empty stadium car parks come together in an explosion of manufactured hyperactivity to offer minute by minute nothingness presented in an explosion of graphics, no-news tickers and bullshit.

If you poured Christmas eve, Hogmanay, napalm and a can of Iron-Bru into a human sized plastic mould, left it to set in between transfer windows and cracked it open on the last day, you'd have Jim White.

Jim White is an absurd detonation of nuclear Scottish bullshit. Fully capable of devastating an entire country's football fans in only three hours simply by forcefully insisting again again that everything that is going on is awesome even when nothing is actually going on.

"The pressure is building and it's all going to go off big time.," he shrieked every twenty minutes or so although we're never clear if he's talking about football transfers or his ejeculation. Very reminiscent of the Sky News reporter sat outside an air base somewhere waiting for a plane to take off which may or may not be heading towards a war zone some 8,000 miles away.

Yesterday Sky Sports News even had exclusive footage of Jim arriving at Sky's studios to present Sky Sports News. Which is just someone arriving for work. The world came very close to folding in on itself at that time and it may have if we weren't interrupted just in time by a reporter stood outside Stoke's stadium informing us that everything was at fever pitch because there was every chance Peter Crouch had just been spotted buying a can of Redbull at a service station somewhere on the M6.

Ironically the utter sheer complete bollocks of Sky's 24 hour ejaculation of graphics and noise was almost appropriate for the level of transfer activity at Arsenal. Five signings and some of them I had even heard of.

We will never know of course what would have occurred had Arsenal not suffered their most humiliating defeat since Napoleon was still causing us trouble. I suspect Arsène Wenger may still have tried to insist that our squad had the quality and mental strength to win every trophy currently up for grabs in the professional game making Jim White's exclamations seem comparatively understated.

Mertesacker I think is the most reassuring of the lot. I've always secretly been an admirer of the square heads. Arsenal are in desperate need of some Teutonic evil at the back. You can say what you like about Jens Lehmann and his temperament. Some players may have exploited his crazy, but the vast majority were frightened of him. Even his own team mates.

A 6ft 6 centre-back barking orders in German - which is the second most sinister language next to Russian - at everyone, even the referee is exactly what we need. Coupled with the lunacy of 6ft 6 Wojciech Szczesny and you've already got a half way decent defense.

Neither are likely to accumulate many bookings as their name's are quite long and a referee under pressure may just opt for a stern warning. Mertesacker I think has only one yellow card and one red card to his name in four years.

With a Brazilian left-back too who I assume is a tricky little sod it's tempting to dream of a future where we don't let eight goals in anymore in one game. Or even surrender a four goal lead at half-time.

Or where the players don't bump into each other trying to get away from where they might get hurt. There's a chance even that Arsenal could keep a clean sheet before Christmas.

I'm not sure what I make of the signing of Arteta and Yossi Benayoun. Perhaps along with Tomáš Rosický if they can synchronise their injuries they might play enough games between them to cover a whole season.

Finally the Korean dude will I think be the surprise of the new signings. Korean captain, so must be a decent enough player but also with a work ethic only Asian people seem to posses. They seem to be able to run forever and while I loved Cesc Fabregas he did seem to have this tendency to mooch about in midfield for the last year or so of his Arsenal career.

A Korean darting about the place without ever stopping for breath might be the inspiration the other players need to shake them out of the malaise.

Not even Jim White's world of hyperbolic fantasy and ludicrous over-optimism could have persuaded me that Arsenal had anything other than a relegation battle to look forward to this season, but now with Spurs being Spurs and Liverpool being Liverpool, I'm wondering if it's even within the boundaries of actual reality to target the fifteenth top four finish in a row?

The pressure is building and it's all going to go off big time. Or something.