All Men Are Liars

Not much of interest has happened in the last week. Villa managed to get themselves a new manager, but it was all a bit low key and uncontroversial, so you probably never heard about it.

Enough has been said already (most of it idiotic, to be honest), so there's no need for me to dwell on it, but, as you might expect, there are a couple of points I would like to share.

Villa fans; I have always felt sorry for them, and I still do, the poor, deluded, arrogant fools. We Blues fans have always tolerated their irrational, grandiose sense of self worth and superiority with a wry smile, and thanked the good lord above that he allowed us to be born on the right side of the tracks. Now the rest of the footballing nation has seen them for the planks they are. They won't be as tolerant as us. This is the best close season ever. I can't remember laughing so much.

Morals; This doesn't reflect on Eck or Villa so much. Although they are the actors in this case, it reflects on the dubious ethics of every fucker involved in football, because they are all the same, in the end.

Eck should have been down on his knees thanking the Blues for not sacking him, after what we endured last season, and half the season before, and the season before that, and most fucking definitely the half season before that. I don't buy into all this lachrymose bollocks about him giving us the best day of our lives,  I have had loads of fantastic days with the Blues; that cup game was just another one, of many. OK. Not many.

Eck was not grateful though. Not only was he not grateful, he was fucking impertinent! That's all I'm saying on it.

Mark Hughes left Fulham, with everyone believing that he was going to Villa. Villa said, no he ain't, and didn't contradict all the national media that said it was because they didn't like the way he did it, because it was all a bit underhand. Then, after many rejections and humiliations, Villa approached Mclaren, only to unapproach him when the fans expressed a distaste for his obsession with combing his hair. Then they go for Eck, a man who showed a distinct lack of moral fibre in the way he resigned and whom the fans clearly hate. Go. Fucking. Figure.

It's obvious Eck was tapped up. God knows why. Apart from all the caterwauling, the best news is that Eck will take them down. Ask any psychologist. The best predictor of future behaviour is past behaviour.

Now, I'm not a child and I'm not stupid. I don't actually care that Eck was tapped up. It amuses me though, that Villa can come over all high and mighty and perch themselves on top of the highest horse, whilst acting like  the sneakiest of opportunist pilferers. They have always been a bunch of hypocritical cunts though, so it come as no great surprise.

We Blues fans don't get off scot free though. Until last Sunday it was virtual sacrilege to criticise Eck, now, everyone is saying good riddance to the clueless, negative fucker. We had a good spell last season, a record breaking spell, and everyone was beside themselves with our brilliant team and our genius manager. There were very few dissenting voices, as the result, apparently, was all that mattered. Look back far enough on this blog and you will see I was a dissenter, a ranter, a leveller (I should have been born in the 17th century). Then, this season, he became our most revered manager because of the cup win. Anything was forgivable, including relegation and the purchase of Carlos Costly. Now he is the devil. I can't forgive the piss poor football he served up and which got us relegated twice,  I can forgive him leaving us, and, can actually love him for going to the Villa.

It all leaves Blues in a bit of limbo, not enough of a limbo to stop us signing random nonentities though. I can't be arsed with the speculation about who the new man will be. We will get who we get and he will do what he will do. We will still have a team to go and see, and bicker about, and we will still have the Villa to laugh at. We will always have the Villa to laugh at.

I have had a haircut, which is an unremarkable event, but it is a rare occurrence, for me, and, even rarer is the occasion when I have a huge fucking shearing. It has caused comment. Lots of comment. People have felt free to make merry with the comments. The commenting  motherfuckers. Most people like it, and say it's nice that I no longer look like  a dirty stinking tramp. I was feeling good. I was feeling handsome. Then someone said, talking about a case: "what they did to that girls hair was abuse never mind anything else" and someone said, "what did it look like"? She replied, "like that"…….. pointing at my head. You either have it or you don't.

We have a person who works with us, rather sensitive. Lovely, but sensitive. She did a cat ridden visit this morning and came back worrying that she stank of cat. She worried all the day long, and everyone reassured her that there was absolutely no odour of pussy about her person. Our assurances may not have been true.  But we are sensitive souls. About 4 oclock, a Merthyr boy who had been out all day, came back, and, walking past her said, "what's that smell?" and the lady said, "oh no, it's not me smelling of cat is it?" and he said, "it's not so much cat, as cat piss".

Cue hilarity.  I've never been so proud of the boy.