I was going to let the tags for this post speak for the whole thing. They are: City, football, fuck, shit, Spurs, wanker. And that pretty much sums up my feelings about last night's game, endured in some piss-pot of a Gooner pub on the Cally, accompanied (for some inexplicable reason) by a garrulous Irish lawyer and a Chinese woman, after traipsing round in the sleet trying to find a pub which wasn't (illegally, of course) showing the Arsenal/Burnley game via Albanian satellite. In the immortal song-smithery of Jake Burns - 'there are no words to say, just what it is you mean'.
However, I was somewhat buoyed by my perusal of the Star this morning, noticing that Jerry Dammers may be returning to The Specials, in a deal being brokered by the mighty Suggs. Suggs is of course doing this for the purest of motives.
Be that as it might be, as of course it might be, and then again (name that Ian Dury song) again, this news did put a little spring in my step, a bit like James' dad up above. So I will allow the chorus of the Coventry boys' hit, Pearl's Cafe, to be the epitaph to a dismal night at the Lane.
I was going to let the tags for this post speak for the whole thing. They are: City, football, fuck, shit, Spurs, wanker. And that pretty much sums up my feelings about last night's game, endured in some piss-pot of a Gooner pub on the Cally, accompanied (for some inexplicable reason) by a garrulous Irish lawyer and a Chinese woman, after traipsing round in the sleet trying to find a pub which wasn't (illegally, of course) showing the Arsenal/Burnley game via Albanian satellite. In the immortal song-smithery of Jake Burns - 'there are no words to say, just what it is you mean'.
However, I was somewhat buoyed by my perusal of the Star this morning, noticing that Jerry Dammers may be returning to The Specials, in a deal being brokered by the mighty Suggs. Suggs is of course doing this for the purest of motives.
Be that as it might be, as of course it might be, and then again (name that Ian Dury song) again, this news did put a little spring in my step, a bit like James' dad up above. So I will allow the chorus of the Coventry boys' hit, Pearl's Cafe, to be the epitaph to a dismal night at the Lane.
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