I did say I’d return to regular blogging, didn’t I…
Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way you’d want them to. With moving house making me irascible and my spare time at a premium because of this, those grand plans I had initially have faltered and failed to come to fruition.
However, I do have my friend Dyllan Munro, and he likes to write article in his inimitable style. So, safe from all the usual talk of transfer rumours and regurgitated statistics, here’s his take on what we can expect in the 2014/2015 season. Part 2 follows very soon.
Having established myself as a sophisticated muthafu*ka in my greeting, you can rest assured that my word and opinions can not only be trusted but have been meticulously researched and as such should here forth be acknowledged as irrefutable facts and not the ramblings of a delusional student with an alcohol dependency.
Now that has been cleared up, we are free to move on to the matter at hand, the upcoming Premier League season. You will no doubt have little interest in this article, and even less when you realise that it is not focused on our transfer activity. Unfortunately for you I am not the sort of person that feels compelled to w*nk myself into oblivion over the details of image rights for potential incoming players or possible agent manipulation for bigger signing on fees.
If you’re that sort of person it would probably be best to read another blog today as well as seeking professional psychiatric help since you were either not loved nearly enough as a child or you were loved a tad too much. This post will be about how I think the new season will pan out, based on the current fixture schedule. I realise the entire premise of trying to predict outcomes is ridiculous, I mean I’m no Romanian gypsy masquerading as a charlatan, but the gambling industry makes billions off it every year and it sounded fun.
Our season begins with a forfeit victory over Crystal Palace. Palace, still drunk from denying Liverpool the title, forget to field a team resulting in 3-0 score line being awarded to Arsenal and the Premier League’s biggest ever fine being awarded to Palace, 17p and a melted Freddo. Tragically (cheerfully) Tony Pulis did not survive the initial celebrations. Arsenal follow this up with a standard victory over Everton as Immigration Services detain all Everton loan players during the match for questioning. Gareth Barry maintains he is a permanent player but is strip searched to ensure terrorism doesn’t win. Leicester, which may or may not be a fake team put into the fixtures to mock my ignorance, slides to a plucky 17-2 defeat.
Our first real test is against the petro wealth of Man City. In a hilarious turn of events Abu Dhabi officials accidentally filed Toure, Silva and Aguero as employees of the state resulting in them staying in Abu Dhabi and bludgeoning journalists investigating human rights abuses. The 3 state employees replacing the players turn out to be pish as the referee constantly penalises them for improper use of tear gas at corners. Reduced to 8 men, City give up and decide to go out for blow and hookers. (Semi)notable Arsenal fan James ‘Raul’ Stokes is allowed to join them, for they have never seen his androgynous, Chelsea-booted type before. Aston Villa are slaughtered without their Antony Taylor shaped protection before Tomas Rosicky arserapes Danny Rose. Arsenal also later beat Tottenham Hotspur courtesy of 92 Tomas Rosicky thunderfu*kbolts.
The first fixture of October is an early top of the table clash. Chelsea, fuelled by Mourinho’s mastery of the Dark Side and a bunch of Aryan literature John Terry found on Ebay, have trounced several rivals in the run up to this game. The atmosphere is intensified by Santi Cazorla nutting Matic pre-game. Kick-off is delayed as Mourinho is found locked in a bathroom with what his lawyers explicitly state is not a rent boy before being cancelled completely after Jack Wilshere calls John Terry ‘an intolerable cunt’. An FA enquiry concludes that Wilshere was indeed right and awards Arsenal the 3 points. As part of an unprecedented ruling Mathieu Flamini is allowed to kick John Terry’s testicles into his brain, thereby curing him of his tragic retardation. Terry realises that Chelsea is for suckers and retreats to his luxury yacht, the H.M.S White Power.
As part of our FA Cup win conditions Hull are forced to award us the points until the coming of the next Ice Age or until they make a Pirates of the Caribbean movie half as good as the original. Sunderland becomes the first team in recorded history to have a Chilean score a double against them. Alexis scores a third whilst the Sunderland players check where Chile is. Proud Arsenal fan and father Daniel Cowan declares his contentment with family life.
Arsenal face Burnley, which I have been assured is not a house from Game of Thrones and is in fact a football team, and in a rare display of mercy field a largely second tier side. That second tier side however features Podolski, Cazorla, Chamberlain, Wilshere and Ospina. Children wept at the horrors that unfolded that day. Possibly through joy or sadness, children are unfathomable devil bastards so we’ll never know. Our game against Swansea is delayed as formerly content family man, Daniel Cowan, is found burrowing into the Liberty Stadium turf with supplies of 2 cans of Rockstar, 4 Wispas and 7 tons of the purest grade heroin the police ever confiscated and shot up. Arsenal are awarded the points on account of the Welsh being well documented lovers of bestiality.
Upon hearing the news Phil Jones leaves Man Utd and buys a sheep farm just outside of Pontypridd which is either where Fireman Sam was set or where Ian Watkins was from, I can’t quite remember. Either way it’s a haven for paedophilia. Arsenal play United next and deprived of their primary weapon, Phil Jones, struggle to a 24-0 massacre. United complain about Debuchy and Flamini producing switchblades when forced into 1 on 1 situations. The claims are investigated and found to be ‘the whimpering of pussies’. Arsene later confirms to French TV that it was fortunate the situation was resolved as Mesut Özil was packing ‘some serious heat’.
As a result of the vicious plundering of Southampton and their subsequent collapse the 3 points are automatically awarded to Arsenal before we face our most challenging away game of the season at Stoke. A hideous consequence of human evolution, Stoke will forever remain all the Gods biggest mistake. Due to centuries of inbreeding Stoke fans have limited mental capacity as well as an aversion to direct sunlight and the Kaiser Chiefs (entirely understandable). Before the game all worldwide religions unite to remind Ryan Shawcross that he’s a c*nt.
As a well-known hater of Rastafarianism, love and the Jews, Shawcross struggles to accept his unification of the faiths. His suspiciously motherly son consoles him by lathering him in oil, setting him on fire and dancing around his rapidly crisping corpse. Arsenal go on to win by over 200 goals, leading to an investigation by Fifa and an Asian betting syndicate who felt that the game was not played in the spirit of unfair play in which they had intended. During this period Newcastle, QPR and West Ham are defeated but since I neither loathe nor like these clubs enough to write extensively about them we will merely state that the aggregate score was 52-1.
Unfortunately for our team and Sanchez in particular we were forced to travel to Anfield, a region Alexis had only heard about in tales round his agents campfire. Buoyed by the slavery of Southampton’s 250,000 population, Liverpool were in 2nd place in the league after finally having the guts to tell Glen Johnson he’s sh*t and his mother despises him. A pitched battle commences in the first 5 minutes leading to the hopefully soon to be always mentioned, ‘Battle of Anfield’.
Lead by the Teutonic, but not in a Nazi way, might of Per Merteswagger Arsenal press on and eventually seize the lead before Yaya Sanogo scores his first competitive Arsenal goal to increase the margin. The 23 Arsenal then added were described by the Guardian as “cruel but ultimately necessary to teach Brendan Rodgers to stop cheating on his wife”.
Influenced by Arsenals frankly unbelievable run of form and the annual release of Christmas themed porn, Arsenal fans began to dream. Occasionally about winning the league but mostly about said aforementioned porn. Be sure to tune in for Part 2: The Final Chapter. That is unless I decide to George Lucas the f*ck out of it by doing one next year.
I’ve been @GoonerDyllan, thanks to James for putting this up as always.
Part 2 to follow….