Dear Diary
It’s quiet……too quiet! The fools! They’ve left the shelter. That’s what everyone wants. It’s a trap! They’ve gone topside, and sooner or later they’ll stagger back in with pissed pants—most likely after a missed signing, or the lack of purchase/loan of a right winger. It’ll get ugly!
Some general observations:
Someone has graffitied on the concrete wall with chalk “Frazzles Not Razzles”. Is this code? A cypher for the coming end-of-days. A portent of plagues and famine? For f#$k’s sake, we’re Everton supporters—we’re used to plagues, famine, dodgy VAR decisions, and liberally interpreted fouls.
Anyway, I added something myself underneath: “Why Not Have Both — Bacon-Flavoured Fanny!”
There are sticky purple stains everywhere from
@Bohemian Toffee's last Ribena bender
@JimmyJeffers has burnt scented candles everywhere. It still can’t mask the odour of stale piss. I can also smell traces of Deep Heat, liniment oil, and KY Jelly. I’m sleeping with one eye open and my @rse to the wall. I’ll be damned if my nickname’s going to be “Any Port In A Storm”
I’ve brought in a large supply of Heinz Baked Beans. This now worries me due to the scented candles and naked flames. I fear that if we gorge ourselves dozens of people will die in a fiery tornado of @rse-gas
This may be my last entry. I am just going outside and may be some time.