Walcott for Sturridge? Astonishing £50 bid from Latvian milkman? Arshavin on loan? Balderdash! Hokum! Tosh!

Morning, scintillating perusers of this ridiculous little blog of mine.

It’s been a slow couple of days for news. Slow to such an extent that I’m dangerously close to having nothing to talk about. I could mention that there’s a possibility Chamakh will miss out on Sunday’s big game against Spurs because he has a bad toe, but, frankly, I doubt we’d notice much difference if he wasn’t there. Seriously, he’s got a bad toe, an injury I’d guess occurred from dropping an industrial-size tub of Shockwaves wet-look gel on it.

When the topics dry up, people start inventing stories, so I thought I’d do the same; consider this my homage to whomever runs Caught Offside.com. My ‘sources’ inform me of the following :

Robin van Persie is the subject of an astonishing bid from Latvia’s famous Milk Factory 11. Upon learning of the Dutchman’s lack of tolerance for wheat, and his growing disdain for puffed-up, protuberant Radio1 DJ Chris Moyles, the LMF11 manager, Milosz Frangipani, hopes to lure the talismanic Dutchman to the outskirts of Riga with a bid of £50m – a fee to be payed over 37 years in goat hair and urine collected from drug-addled vagrants. Arsenal manager Arsene Wenger declined to comment, instead telling reporters to go and “fuck their mothers”.

I know what you’re thinking; I’m not funny…

In news that may contain a modicum of truth, there are several rumours circulating about a swap deal with Chelsea; we take Daniel Sturridge, they take Theo Walcott. I think I’ve reached the end of my tether with Theo. If you take away his blistering pace, he is essentially a very average footballer. Since he’s been at Arsenal, I’ve always expected it to be ‘his season’ and while he shows the occasional moment of brilliance, the remaining, and far, far greater, period of time he likes to hopelessly scurry about and produce shit-awful cross-cum-shots.

I’d take Sturridge in return, but given the likelihood of Chelsea changing managers in the summer, I can’t see anything coming to fruition. Andre Villas Boas may not be the greatest club manager around, but I’ve some empathy for him. He’s inherited a squad of ageing egomaniacs, he’s frequently dismissed because of his age and it’s his first season in a foreign country under immense pressure. Chelsea could be doing immeasurably worse and I’d sooner not have to conduct my daily working business shadowed by the memory of Jose Mourinho.

The second and final story is regarding Andrey Arshavin being loaned back to Zenit St Petersburg. I like the little Russian, for all his poor form of late, he is still one of the very few in the squad who can deliver a pass in the final third or produce a moment of brilliance from nowhere. Over the course of the season, I’ve started to feel really sorry for him. He looks lonely, short of confidence and must have taken the booing directed towards the Oxlade-Chamberlain substitution to heart. Loaning him back at a point when our creative options are already limited wouldn’t be a good move. In the summer is the right idea for him to depart for all parties concerned.

And that’s about yer lot today, boys and girls. I feel I owe you something more, in all honesty. Every so often when I’m blogging, I get hit by an overwhelming urge to fly of in random tangents. However, this is an Arsenal blog, so I stop myself. I’m sure none of you out there want to read about the finite details of my sexual endeavours or scan through a lengthy piece about sandwiches I made for lunch yesterday (bacon and chicken toastie, by the way. It was scrumptious). I’ll spare you all that much.

Thanks for reading, you beautiful bastards. I hope you’ll comment with your thoughts and take a moment to follow me on Twitter – @_ArmchairGooner.

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