Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Peter Hill-Wood Speaks!

Things had gone quiet on the Cesc to Barcelona story, so today, Peter Hill-Wood decided to talk about it. He told the Daily Star:

It seems to me that if you're trying to fend off an approach for your best player, the one thing you wouldn't want to do is to keep the story in the media. It's the kind of thing that destabilises a club. So it beggars belief that Hill-Wood would say anything about it.

A few hours later, Barcelona director general Joan Oliver responded with:

So Barcelona are going to take their sweet time to make their move. If Cesc leaves this season, we're going to need time to look for a replacement. Maybe that's the reason they're stalling - they're confident that they'll get Cesc eventually, so they're trying to squeeze us for time to get a replacement, in order to drive down the price. Or maybe they're just a bunch of bullies who like fucking with our heads.

Either way, I wish Peter Hill-Wood wouldn't antagonise them. If we keep really quiet and pretend nothing's happening, maybe they'll get bored and move on to their next Arsenal target... Emmanuel Eboue.

In other news, Aliko Dangote, the Nigerian chap who's been interested in Nina Bracewell-Smith's shares, has stated:

At least we know that Dangote is a real Arsenal fan. Only poseurs and glory-hunters like Usmanov want to invest in the club. Genuine gooners prefer to buy shares, sit on them until they appreciate, and then flog them off to the highest bidder, all the while investing fuck-all into the club itself. Actually, someone should remind Dangote that buying Bracewell-Smith's share isn't really investing in the club; all it does is make one rich old lady a little bit richer.

So on the 333th last day of my 20s, I handed in my resignation letter, gave them a month's notice. It's for the best - in one clinic, I see (at most) four patients a session, and the other clinic is dangerously under-resourced, uses run-down equipment and services unreliable clientele. They're nice enough people, but there are just too many headaches to make it worthwhile.

Been in a funk all day. I told my nurse (the weird sex-dream one) that I'd asked the girl of my dreams out on Sunday, and she replied "you do know it's a no, right?". And that killed the rest of the day for me. Yeah, deep down, I knew it was a no. But the heart wants what the heart wants, hope springs eternal, shit happens... and when reality bites, moat of the tie I just sink into comfortable delusion.

I suppose I should thank my nurse for puncturing my delusion. My nurse spends every other weekend luring rabbits into open paddocks and shooting them. Se's used to killing warm, fuzzy, inconvenient things, and I probably should be grateful for her for killing my warm, fuzzy inconvenient delusion...

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