Where we're going we don't need goals.

Evenin all Ken here.

Now as you are aware there's been a slight hiccup in the way things have been on the pitch. However, don't let all that news reporting of actual matches and facts get in the way of anything. We are in fact in brilliant shape and in fact I've set up a number of things off the pitch that make things brilliant as well.

A thought occured to me after my weekly session of reasonably priced tantric tea drinking in the hotel, (please come in and have a go. £4 per hour - 5 hours of drinking the same cup of tea in a semi darkened suite whilst a big bloke tickles your feet with a feather is better than it sounds), namely we get in a specialist mind bloke to help with our goal thing.

I get my best man on the case to bring in the guy. Sadly he's busy grouting his bathroom and something about cat herding later. So I ask Darren to ring round. He doesn't seem to get it at first but he gets the jist after half an hour. Meanwhile I try the football league again to see if they can do something in the rules about those nasty opponents thricking goals in.

The guy from the local newspaper shop has come round again asking for the paper bill - once we've finished hiding and stoped his ranting - I mean some of the language used is not befitting a 73 year old man with arthritis and a nasty sounding cough - he goes away. That's another £14 pounds saved this month. Awesome.

Darren comes up trumps and gets a bloke in to psycologically look at the team and get them moving from what is a temporary glitch in form. He says he's called Great Stupendio which should be ringing alarm bells but loads of kids today have silly names like Gibbon or Roger. I am later summoned to the players lounge by an out of breath Doris as it's "kicking off in there." Turns out Great Stupendio is a psychic and a rubbish one at that. He told poor Mark Beevers that he's been dead 10 years and was so instistent that David Wheater believed him and went to try and visit his grave. He also told Gary Madine his great aunt Molly hated him all along and the reason he misses chances is becuase he touches himself at night.

After 3 hours of calming the lads down and after getting Stupendio to hospital and digging his teeth from Gary Madine's hand it's time to get off home for a well deserved rest. Sadly I can't as my lad is wound up as people on social media have been having opinions again. FFS, time to drag open the laptop again.

Cheers easy,

Ken.