The Grant Gurnhill football and mayhem blog.

Wahay peeps! Tis I once more - Mr Dobbie McSavage esquire wi’ me awesome Prem roundup blog.
Straight into it peeps:
And we start with the shock of the day that came at Sports Direct Head Office, where the bizarre sight of poor defending by Chelski (!), was trumped by Cissy grabbing a brace (!), which was gazumped by Pugilist Pards’ Pewks winning a game (!), which was only topped by Chelski’s supposed Invincibles losing! Cue lots of ironic ‘anti-moaning’ by Joseki, and ‘underplayed-crowing’ by Pards. Yeah, right.
BURnleY returned to form as they travelled to Londinium, where PQRSTU ended their hopes of continuing their recent decent form. It’s gonna be a blue Christmas for the Clarets.
Second shocker of the day, and what would have been THE shocker if Chelski hadn’t capitulated at the capital of chavvy sporting goods, was Arse-nil coming unstuck against the mighty Steak City, who’ve struggled to buy 3 points off the traffic cops lately. Arsey Whinger was his normal pragmatic, open-minded self after the game, and Markus Huge’s eyes filled the screen they were so wide with shock. Scary!
Reffing decision of the day came not once, but three times at the Etmehat Stadium, where Andre Substandardmariner decided that football was no longer a contact sport and gifted Mantreasurechester City a penalty that even the Hubble telescope wouldn’t have seen. He also failed to send Bruce Lee Mangler off for mistaking the penalty box for a cage-fighting arena, and handed out a yellow card for diving to Tom Olympicdiver Barklaycard. Bizarre decisions indeed, though divers reap the penalties of Peter and the Wolf tactics in previous games, and so they should. So there! Bah humbug, Neverton!
I’m afraid I’m gonna paint now as I gloss over the no-score-bore-draws between Dull City and Best Sandwich Albumen, Ditherfool and Blunderland, and Twittering Shitspurs and Chrysophase Palace. Yawn. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Should’ve watched the bloody FA Cup instead.
Ironically, Not So Super Sunday’s fixtures lined up like a coat of emulsion on a concrete wall, so unappetising did they look. Especially after Saturday’s fixture list which failed to set the sports world alight. Oh foolish Dobbie - haven’t you learned yet not to judge an M Night Shitmegallon movie by the overhyped bullshit that proceeds the dross you eventually are fed? Obviously not, as I prepared for Sunday’s games with hot cocoa and a sleeping bag. Oh you fool, Dobster!
Wilfrid BoneyM extended his scoring run against West Sham in a cracking battle that was ended prematurely by a red card incident, that verily put Onesie on the back foot. Not to be out-done, Mandy Carroll moved his hairband from his Geordie LaForge look into his hair and promptly slammed a couple home - at last! Long last. Long, long last. Long, long, long last. Long, long, long, long last. Long - you get the point. Onesie rallied magnificently with 10 men but were eventually put out of Monkfish’s misery by a third for Sham, and Big Spam took all 3 points to the bar with him, to set on the mantle-piece next to 3rd place (for now). Where are the nay-sayers of last season now I ask? ‘Sack Spam’? Knobs.
The final game of the weekend saw more bizarre reffing decisions when Ali and Foreman were split up in the 6th round, but only one was sent to the dressing room. Oh how we love those precocious
refs. I wouldn’t say it spoilt a decent contest - but it spoilt a decent contest somewhat. Nasty Vanilla eventually sent Fester City packing back home more pointless than a Richard Osman game show. Lambretta lives to get sacked another day, but for Neil Pearshaped, how much longer can he survive this run of form?
In Monday’s game, the end of the week’s fixture list saw Lois Van Hire breathe a sigh of relief as Robbie Van Persil took Louthampton to the cleaners, despite a brave battle that saw his Dutch protégé breathe a similar exhalation of breath when Penn&Teller found the back of the net again. Reunited have turned their season around at last, the Louts are beginning to slip, and the table is looking tasty as we head into a juice-dripping Christmas fixture list. Yum Yum.
And remember, when I do my end-of-season look-back, I’ll be saying ‘I told you so’ several times. But ignoring all the many, many, many times I got it wrong. Of course peeps - it’s MY bloody blog!
See you’s Friday peeps wi’ me European football blog. It’s EPIC!
Tara for now!