Weekends.... whats the point?

Greetings…

Ok then number three from the Woes, and after this weekend the WOES is definitely a fitting title for this little blog… well after a season of ups and downs, of hopes, of glories, of defeats and dashed dreams… We made it! The gateway to the promised land, the reception room to the world of dreams, the doormat of destiny, the stoop of greener pastures the garden path to a brighter tomorrow… yes ladies and gentleman the first leg of the first round of the play offs for the 2009/2010 fizzy pop league two… the winner of the these two arduous rounds gets a day out in north west London (Yessssssss), and the chance to play for a spot in the mighty league one (cowabunga)… I’ve goose-pimples just writing it down.

The excitement around town in the mawning was actually pretty impressive, a lot of people were drunk early, and I mean early even by Aldershot standards. The crowds were a sea of red and blue (and Burberry)… people were buzzing, their was a strange euphoria surrounding the town centre, one that has not been seen since the introduction of the £30 quarter back in 2004… as a town we were up for it… and considering the collective lethargic ethos of the Shot, it really was something to behold. Even the crazies (and Shot has a lot of them) were getting involved, the usual under breath mutterings of profanity and biblical apocalyptic predicictions were interspersed with football chants, one elderly woman even proclaiming that Marvin Morgan was the second coming of Christ and that Kevin Dillon was superman… Neither claim has yet been certified either way.

Anyway, the town was buzzing which is a good thing… however like most times of ecstasy, what goes up, usually has a comedown… and after a tight, nervy, edge of seat, nail biting, fist chomping, hide-behind-seat and prey 90 minutes of football, we come out with a one nil deficit and a trip to deepest darkest Rotherham ahead of us on Wednesday…. I’m not going Wednesday, mainly because I have a wife ready to give birth any day now but also because ever since I was lad I had an irrational fear of the Chuckle Brothers, and I understand that Paul and Barry are season ticket holders… Bullet dodged me thinks…

Speaking of which, if the situation did arise, just how do you kill a chuckle brother? I have researched this and according to the ancient texts written in a long since forgotten Rotherham tongue (I had Derrick Ancorah channel the spirit of a 3rd century Miller and translate the text) you need to first kill the head Chuckle in order to make the others mortal… BBC executives have been trying for the last 20 years since Paul and Barry entered in to a blood-deal with CBBC’s head of programming and that time Broom Closet aficionado Philip Schofield… They used their black magic to save the life of kids favorite Gorden The Gopher… From then on they have commanded the wills of the CBBC execs… in a deal which lasts till the demise of the Chuckles… thankfully this all plays out with hilarious consequences and Paul usually gets hit by a ladder or summat… anyway… what was I saying…

Oh yeah this weekend… unfortunately proving that better is actually better and better always wins… Pompey took the hopes of the nation to Wembley to put the giants to the sword and refill faith to under-dogs everywhere. And it all played out with sickening predictability, fair play to the blues I suppose… A well earned double that only came at the cost of hope for everyone everywhere forever… When does the world cup start???


So then, there it is KABLAM episode three, in the hizouse… on road, in the web, on net, part of the bogosphere, on line, and I am getting the hang of it just about… I type words about bollocks whilst trying to look busy at work go off on tangents and then publish this cack, in the faint hope that someone will read it and for just a split second of time, I will be more important than someone else somewhere, kind of, just a little bit…

As ever I’d like to thank you all for reading and apologise for wasting your time, just think in the 2 minutes or so you’ve just spent reading this tripe you could have, cooked minute rice (twice), run around the block (twice) eaten a Curly Wurly (twice) made love to your wife (thrice) or done some work….


Twitter is forbidden in my religion but if you want to follow me please let me know in advance so I can speak to the authorities and have restraining orders put in place.

Its been nice WOEing you….. (too cheesy yeah?)



(The writer would like to assure you all that no Chuckles were harmed or raised in the writing of this blog).