Pig Sty Avenue

I still feel nauseous whenever I think about Newcastle's ownership.  The feelings don't diminish much when I read this sort of stuff .  Those people flog you if you're gay or drink Brown Ale, mind.  Couldn't be worse than Ashley, though, and as they'd be on a PR mission, they would necessarily not do stupid things...

Ah well .  Hughton and the players deserve the credit, no doubt, but it offers some hope for the future.  And of course, Ashley remains a twat and a shite, but, wtf.  I mean, just think about the kind of people who own English Premier League clubs.  Would you want to meet any of the bastards socially?  Sheik Mansour spends all that money, and doesn't even go to the games, (they'd let him in for nowt, and he'd get a good seat - does he watch it on telly, one wonders?); the Glazers, ffs, like that family out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre ; and don't even get me started on Abramovich.  So our own fat guy's in good company.  Put it another way, big capitalists have ugly souls.  For now, we're stuck with them, though.  For now.  

Having uncurled from my foetal ball position, and emerged from the cupboard I was hiding in, the only comfort I can offer is that it's no good crying over spilt milk.  My own feeling still is that Hughton would have gone on to become a great manager of Newcastle.  But what do I know?  The situation we're in is that the club we love is owned by a fat useless bastard, who may or may not have made a correct decision with the appointment of Pardew .  We shall see.  The result of today's game against Liverpool will speak volumes, unfairly perhaps as he's only had one full day in the job, but Chris Hughton got no mercy and Pardew should expect none.

Looks like we were out-manoeuvred .  Buggeration.  Despite this, in the great scheme of things, who would you rather have as a manager, wor Chris or that whale-jawed loudmouth gum-chewing twat?

Maybe it won't last, and we'll become becalmed in mid-table, or even have to fight for survival.  But this looks nice just now.  

With a whole new definition of the word "unlucky" .

Woohoo!

...is also trending on Twatter.

Go on lad, get a hat trick.  Plenty of time left.  And could you get a more poetic red card than Tightarse Bumble?

Who started all this bullshit ?  Ms Malignant C must be strongly implicated, of course, as her team (who, we learn, have a   polymath captain ), square up in a match which apart from the colossal derby rivalry, is in any case offering three very valuable mid table points.  Win or lose, I can't wait to see what she manages to write in tomorrow's Guardian, another nuanced approach to the beleaguered Hughton theme, I'll bet. And now, as if in a sports' reporters lager fuelled dream, Maradonna appears on the scene .  Could you imagine him at St James?  Plenty of entertainment for the supporters of every other team, it would be another nightmare for us.  So, Ashley, you fat fuck, put pen to paper on a new contract for our Chris.  Now.

Pah!

Well, that was a very handy three points.  I did like the idea of Carroll and Nolan as a comedy duo, too , with Scouse v Geordie domestic humour, burning cars and rude graffitti.  Was it rude, though, does anyone know?

It feels like we're at an important stage in the season, when we need a bit of consistency.  A couple of wins would push us back into mid-table, which, let's be honest, has been our statistically mean home in the last fifty odd years.  This article in the Telegraph is interesting.

It's a measure of how things are that I didn't hear this news on Radio 5  just now and say, "Oh, fucking hell!" but instead thought, "Hmm, juicy."

I really am trying not to swear, but, fucking hell!

He gets the top-o-the-page at the Grauniad's Chalkboard for the weekend .  Fucking hell.

...but fucking hell .

...by Ms Malignant C.  And, here it is!   Well done, Louise!  What happened to your team this weekend?   I see...

Like we used to sing in the Leazes End, back in the 70s, "Ooh! Look behind ye! Ooh, look behind ye!" Let's see how Ms Malignant C manages to sneer tomorrow. Mind you, I think Waddler's comment on ESPN might have had some force about them playing to "a high line", which means vulnerability to a counter-attack... though the result suggests otherwise against Villa. No doubt Comrade C has more than one barricade up his sleeve. And even if this is all a flash in the pan, ffs, let's enjoy it, lads and lasses, eh? But something about their body language, never mind this scoreline, tells me we won't be battling relegation this season. Howay the fucking lads.

It has to be Celtic. I toyed with the idea of Kilmarnock, a local bus ride away, but... Their website isn't well maintained, which would have made getting tickets a pain in the arse. And, anyway, do I really want to follow an English AND a Scottish side who may have relegation battles this season? I briefly looked at St Mirren, but, Paisley? And being a member of a certain sub-culture, Rangers were out of the question. Not that I wouldn't go to see any of those easy-travelling-distance teams, including Jags, as a neutral, especially if they're having a European run, (unlikely in most cases, right enough). Regularity of attendance at Parkhead will, however, depend on the work situation.