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Hi, would it be okay if i post my website and match report? cheers, NT
- Thread starter kenyonl
- Start date
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Chang Elephant
Forum God
Please do
Del
Ric Wee fan club member 2014
How much will it cost us mate?
Go for it mate.
RFUS
Anustart
Well you definitely submitted text. This is text. I can see text.
EFCNIK
Banned
Hi mate,
I run things around here and yes of course you can post it! We love to have posters writing their own match reports and adding their own views about Everton on the forum. Of course we ask you to leave a small fee of £25. This is to cover advertising costs and the maintenance of the cage which holds The Azul. PM me and I will pass on my paypal account details for you to send the money to.
Thank you for your forthcoming payment, and insightful match report,
Nik, EFC
I run things around here and yes of course you can post it! We love to have posters writing their own match reports and adding their own views about Everton on the forum. Of course we ask you to leave a small fee of £25. This is to cover advertising costs and the maintenance of the cage which holds The Azul. PM me and I will pass on my paypal account details for you to send the money to.
Thank you for your forthcoming payment, and insightful match report,
Nik, EFC
Chang Elephant
Forum God
Waiting 7 minutes now for the report.
Sorry, didn't expect any response! Here goes...
SCHOOL OF SCIENCE
"Gets weirder by the game does this blog. Not sure what to say about it other than it makes me feel
uneasy and a bit voyeuristic, like I'm not reading about football but stepping into the mind of a man high on mescaline and televised soccer."
VILLA-EVERTON 14-1-12
Words are very strong. One single word can conjure vivid images that sail away with your imagination. By simply hearing the word, “ocean,†for instance, I can smell the salt air, hear the sea birds, feel the sun and wind, and see exotic ports on the globe. In fact, two words would double this sensory sensation. For instance, if you were to say the words, “Aston Villa†to me, I would immediately think: dog ****. Well, Everton waded into Villa Park today hoping to take points without stepping in anything.
When I saw Drenthe on one side, Donavan on the other, and new arrival Gibson playing in the middle, my optimist gauge inched toward the right. Then I saw Saha and Cahill up front and the gauge sagged back to where it's been since August. The match began as they all do, a ball bouncing and skidding, and players jogging and sprinting, and beer bottles falling off tables and onto my living room rug faster than I could pop them open. You may have heard that Clattenburg was in charge of this match. He wore his hair in one of the gel-fag styles the FA requires **** refs to identify themselves with, but did little else to stand out.
Gibson started strong, knocking the snot out of Petrov, yet taking only ball, and ireland got dropped like a parolee getting tazed in front of his trailer park home. In fact, Ireland looks like a parolee who should get tazed in front of his trailer park home. In front of his bleeding-from-the-nose-wife. While wearing extra baggy shorts that show all his underwear. Bare-chested with crappy tattoo caricatures of his ex-children staining his sunken chest. That's what Ireland looks like. Whatever, it didn't take Everton long to take hold of this match and do nothing with it.
Everton passed, passed, passed, passed, passed, until Tim Howard Finally told the [Poor language removed] that he was not likely to score again, and that they should venture forward to see if they could create anything. Well, what do you know? They could! Chances, I mean, not goals. In the 17 minute Saha got a terrific free kick from Baines and headed it to Limpville. A few minutes later Donavon, finally starting to get his British feet under him, stormed the right side and sent a lethal cross into Villa's box that knocked Saha and three Villa players into the net while the ball stayed out. The commentator and the co-comm said it was a clear penalty. Saha was content to lie inside the net for a few minutes sleep. Clattenburg's vision was obstructed, to be fair, but fortunately, he brought along linesman just as stupid and inept as he for this match.
Shane Given was having quite a game, meaning that Everton were, as well. In fact, even Warnock tried to score on him with a wicked header off a Drenthe cross, but could not. Speaking of Drenthe, he will never take another corner or free kick, and if he puts in another noodle performance like today, he will never put in another shift. Suddenly, Drenthe fell to the ground from the shame of his performance. He made the “I want to come off the pitch and go home to drink whiskey†motion toward the pitch, but his plea went unnoticed. With five minutes to go before halftime, the Villa fans began to make their way to the bogs. When the whistle blew, I went in search of glue to sniff.
Halftime***
Apparently, the Villain fans had decided to use the bogs at home, because they never returned. The stadium was as noisy as a gust of wind, save for the full-throttled voice of the Everton fans. However, at the fifty minute mark Marcus Bent found a bobbling ball in the Everton area and he kicked at it like he was kicking racism out of football. While Louis Saha twittered to confirm that racism has yet to be kicked out of football, the ball Bent kicked bounced high into the corner of Tim Howard's net. Saha put away his phone, because he didn't want to talk about black on black crime. Bent almost knocked another one past Howard straight away off a ball by Ireland.
Drenthe was so bad today that after awhile Moyes simply had him towed off the field. Moyes then lit a match under Vic and tossed him onto the pitch like a Molotov cocktail, and strangely, he exploded on Villa, rather than in Moyes's face. Landon Donavan—do you remember him? He's an American who played here once before, played a sublime ball through to the burning victor, who shot through the Villain's defence and shot the ball on the run. The ball launched itself past O'Shea.
Just minutes after this moment, Victor, thinking he still had a lit fuse, chased a ball out of touch the way a stupid child chases a butterfly in order to make it his special friend. Well, the ball told Anichebe to **** off, and Victor, devastated, crashed to the ground and grabbed for some random appendage to hold onto while he grimaced. The cameras caught Moyes talking into his phone, saying, “Get hold of Norwich and see if they need another striker.â€
In the meantime, Gibson came off and Bily came on. That's when I kicked in the face of my TV set and wished that it was Moyes. Or Kenwright. Or the bank chairman. Whatever, I just want to kick in somebody's face who is involved with Everton. I want to smash teeth, crumble bone, stomp fleshy parts of the body, gouge eyes, slash throats, eat tendons, stab, murder, torture and kill these pieces of ****. When the police take me away I will sing about what a grand old team it is to play for and to support. I'll get out of prison before Everton win ****-all again.
SCHOOL OF SCIENCE
"Gets weirder by the game does this blog. Not sure what to say about it other than it makes me feel
uneasy and a bit voyeuristic, like I'm not reading about football but stepping into the mind of a man high on mescaline and televised soccer."
VILLA-EVERTON 14-1-12
Words are very strong. One single word can conjure vivid images that sail away with your imagination. By simply hearing the word, “ocean,†for instance, I can smell the salt air, hear the sea birds, feel the sun and wind, and see exotic ports on the globe. In fact, two words would double this sensory sensation. For instance, if you were to say the words, “Aston Villa†to me, I would immediately think: dog ****. Well, Everton waded into Villa Park today hoping to take points without stepping in anything.
When I saw Drenthe on one side, Donavan on the other, and new arrival Gibson playing in the middle, my optimist gauge inched toward the right. Then I saw Saha and Cahill up front and the gauge sagged back to where it's been since August. The match began as they all do, a ball bouncing and skidding, and players jogging and sprinting, and beer bottles falling off tables and onto my living room rug faster than I could pop them open. You may have heard that Clattenburg was in charge of this match. He wore his hair in one of the gel-fag styles the FA requires **** refs to identify themselves with, but did little else to stand out.
Gibson started strong, knocking the snot out of Petrov, yet taking only ball, and ireland got dropped like a parolee getting tazed in front of his trailer park home. In fact, Ireland looks like a parolee who should get tazed in front of his trailer park home. In front of his bleeding-from-the-nose-wife. While wearing extra baggy shorts that show all his underwear. Bare-chested with crappy tattoo caricatures of his ex-children staining his sunken chest. That's what Ireland looks like. Whatever, it didn't take Everton long to take hold of this match and do nothing with it.
Everton passed, passed, passed, passed, passed, until Tim Howard Finally told the [Poor language removed] that he was not likely to score again, and that they should venture forward to see if they could create anything. Well, what do you know? They could! Chances, I mean, not goals. In the 17 minute Saha got a terrific free kick from Baines and headed it to Limpville. A few minutes later Donavon, finally starting to get his British feet under him, stormed the right side and sent a lethal cross into Villa's box that knocked Saha and three Villa players into the net while the ball stayed out. The commentator and the co-comm said it was a clear penalty. Saha was content to lie inside the net for a few minutes sleep. Clattenburg's vision was obstructed, to be fair, but fortunately, he brought along linesman just as stupid and inept as he for this match.
Shane Given was having quite a game, meaning that Everton were, as well. In fact, even Warnock tried to score on him with a wicked header off a Drenthe cross, but could not. Speaking of Drenthe, he will never take another corner or free kick, and if he puts in another noodle performance like today, he will never put in another shift. Suddenly, Drenthe fell to the ground from the shame of his performance. He made the “I want to come off the pitch and go home to drink whiskey†motion toward the pitch, but his plea went unnoticed. With five minutes to go before halftime, the Villa fans began to make their way to the bogs. When the whistle blew, I went in search of glue to sniff.
Halftime***
Apparently, the Villain fans had decided to use the bogs at home, because they never returned. The stadium was as noisy as a gust of wind, save for the full-throttled voice of the Everton fans. However, at the fifty minute mark Marcus Bent found a bobbling ball in the Everton area and he kicked at it like he was kicking racism out of football. While Louis Saha twittered to confirm that racism has yet to be kicked out of football, the ball Bent kicked bounced high into the corner of Tim Howard's net. Saha put away his phone, because he didn't want to talk about black on black crime. Bent almost knocked another one past Howard straight away off a ball by Ireland.
Drenthe was so bad today that after awhile Moyes simply had him towed off the field. Moyes then lit a match under Vic and tossed him onto the pitch like a Molotov cocktail, and strangely, he exploded on Villa, rather than in Moyes's face. Landon Donavan—do you remember him? He's an American who played here once before, played a sublime ball through to the burning victor, who shot through the Villain's defence and shot the ball on the run. The ball launched itself past O'Shea.
Just minutes after this moment, Victor, thinking he still had a lit fuse, chased a ball out of touch the way a stupid child chases a butterfly in order to make it his special friend. Well, the ball told Anichebe to **** off, and Victor, devastated, crashed to the ground and grabbed for some random appendage to hold onto while he grimaced. The cameras caught Moyes talking into his phone, saying, “Get hold of Norwich and see if they need another striker.â€
In the meantime, Gibson came off and Bily came on. That's when I kicked in the face of my TV set and wished that it was Moyes. Or Kenwright. Or the bank chairman. Whatever, I just want to kick in somebody's face who is involved with Everton. I want to smash teeth, crumble bone, stomp fleshy parts of the body, gouge eyes, slash throats, eat tendons, stab, murder, torture and kill these pieces of ****. When the police take me away I will sing about what a grand old team it is to play for and to support. I'll get out of prison before Everton win ****-all again.
Really, really good. Hahahaha. Enjoyed that mate.
Chang Elephant
Forum God
****ing great report
tasslehoff
Player Valuation: £10m
Sorry mate, we are used to some pictures of snide older players and sometimes unrelated but funny celebs (Muhammad Ali etc.) accompanied by witty asides abouts players Mar's or the local nightlife.
Apart from that its boss.
Apart from that its boss.
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