I've had a sabbatical from blogging. Lost my mojo ( some would argue I never had mojo ), I became mired in the negativity that has been crashing upon us, wave after wave of lethargic doom raining down on us from all angles. I didn't want to write about it. I didn't want to think about it. This sand dune looks comfortable for my cranium, I'll just insert it deep ( hrmph ) & all the bad things will simply dissipate & leave an Arsenal rainbow. I now realise this was futile. I planned to make my return with a tongue-in-cheek look at Arsenes humble beginnings in Alsace as a kid, but I remembered a few wise words from some pals a while back ( thank you @DBerry & @thedanielcowan ) that timing is everything, so a Wenger biopic right now would be as well received as an invite to a Michael Barrymore pool party. I decided on catharsis.
Scottish Arsenal fan, suffering from an over-estimation of wit. Wispa Gold saviour. Fanshare. Aspiring commentator.
I'm going to start with a rant. Vein-popping, eye-watering, ball-busting, fist-clenching. That's just my mornings bowel-movement (narf-narf). In all seriousness, I had the distinct pleasure of a debate on twitter yesterday regarding our Captain Thomas Vermaelen. The gent in question stated that if TV5 started in the LB position, that all was lost, the weak link in our armour would unravel us, etc. Basically there was no confidence in him. I agree to a certain extent. He was ousted as 1st choice CB as he had a few performances that were shaky to say the least. In some peoples view he cost us games. A massive no-no and obviously the rest is history as our current CB pairing is, I feel confident in saying this, the best defensive unit in the PL.
Just like our simian cousins, we do enjoy a spot of shit-flinging. The fecal matter was flying thick and fast on Saturday afternoon, our performance against the men-beasts of the Potteries acting as a suppository, easing the defecation out and spreading it hither and thither on our favoured social network. In the past, if the worst happens, which in the last few seasons was rather too regularly, I would declare #TwitterOff, unable to face the carnage of Gooners attacking their kin for simply keeping faith with an out of form player, or for criticizing someone who had a mare.
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