Cod Almighty | Diary

Diary - Monday 4 June 2007

4 June 2007

"Of course Detective Inspector, you can look under my new patio."

Don't mind them, they're just looking for the missing Mr Normal Diary. I haven't seen him for ages, honest guv. With the Dryden of dryness as absent as hard news, the Cod Almighty board held an Extraordinary General Meeting and has decided to retire to 1973, declaring a Three-Day Week Order for the merry month of June. My name is Deviant Diary. Am I mad, in a coma or simply wallowing in nostalgia for a comic effect?

See my baby jibe.

They promised, they delivered. All weekend the heaving metropolis that is North East Lincolnshire was throbbing with excitement, and that's not just because Ces and Len had reformed to do a summer season at the Spider's Web. Two signings, one on Monday they squealed, and we squealed too when from behind the big purple curtain Stuart "now that's a haircut" Watkiss emerged. Oh come on, he's done a fine job number twoing, whatever number twoing is. And there's more promised later this week. I reckon that financial stability will see the job of assistant handyman being reinstated. No more will the striplight of Damocles oscillate above the denizens of the darkest corners of the Pontoon. A young man in overalls with a multipurpose screwdriver is what every successful football club has had throughout the ages. That explains Nicky Butt, doesn't it?

Who mentioned financial stability? Not our friends in the South, Bust'un United, who have the chance to go from the ridiculous to the sublime. Our Lord, the late departed Sir John of McDermott, has flown an outrageous kite, eying an opportunity down amongst the deadmen. I ask you, the jury, look before you. Such a fragrant full-back, how could he even think of marrying a scoundrel? Bust'un have to survive before they can revive. They have one week, and this diary will self destruct in six sentences.

And sticking with the non-leaguers near Stickney, who in football deserves a slap more than the Creepy Crawley and his crew? There are some glaring omissions from this list of cyberslappers. Go on, add to the nation's gaiety.

Ah, 1973. Everything was black and white then, and still is in our world. Are we mad, or in a summer coma?

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