Is that David Beckham or Morrissey?

Some things never change. My wife has not sucked my cock in two years, Spurs fans still believe that they are a top four team, and Alex Ferguson gets away with another verbal attack on a referee after his team has lost.

Then we have the MLS play-offs which I compare to teenage dating. Trying to get a wank in the back row of the movies while Aladdin is playing. Meanwhile the real players are smoking weed and drinking Crown in some decked out pad with the sounds blaring. MLS will always lag behind the NBA and EPL. Teenagers trying to get a wank, that’s all it is.

Then there’s the pathetic LA Super Classico ruck with David Beckham showing off his new haircut which looks as though some mental patient cut it. Shaved sides, long on top. You look like that miserable singer from the Smiths, Morrissey. You pathetic tosser!

So we have just under two weeks ahead of us with no Arsenal matches. Sure we have the Ireland verses France World Cup qualifying play-off, but really, that game is like methadone for a heroin addict. We Arsenal fans have to wait until November 21st for our next fix – Sunderland away. By the way, Steve Bruce, the Black Cats manager looks scary. A monster in fact. He looks like someone staring at themselves through the back of a spoon. Horrible.

Last words come from Roy Keane again. Today he talks about Wolves manager Mick McCarthy and ex-Ireland boss Jack Charlton during a tour of the USA in 1992.

“In the morning we were due to fly home, Steve Staunton and I went out for a drink. We forgot about the time and were late arriving back to the team hotel. The rest of the party were sitting on the coach outside. Steve and I raced to our rooms to pack our bags. As we boarded the coach, ‘Big Jack’ started ranting and roaring: “Where the fucking hell have you been? You’ve kept us all waiting.”

“Why didn’t you go without us?” I shot back. “I didn’t ask you to wait.”

In the silence that followed, I looked him straight in the eye. He neither frightened nor impressed me. He was a bully who didn’t like it when the ball was on the other foot. He backed off. I took my seat in the back of the bus.

“You’re right out of order, you.” Looking up I saw Mick McCarthy Captain Fantastic himself, glaring down at me.

“Go and fuck yourself,” I told him.”

Keep it Arsenal


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