Well what do you wanna know? Will they beat us? What scheming may they have for the tactical battle? What player duels will affect the game?
Read on for absolutely none of those answers. In fact don’t fucking read on because it’s the same shite as most weeks, just with a few rehashed insults. Go and do something productive with your life. Unless you’re on the toilet reading this, in which case proceed.
Apologies for the lad bible type opening. But we’re coming towards the end of another season and the absence of Everton (and a decent Everton at that) being absent from my life is enough to send a man loco. Weekends without Everton are shite. Weekends with Everton are often shite too but at least have a focal point which in turns brings anticipation of the weekend and an aura of excitement. I like that weekend excitement thing.
Last weekend’s excitement was rewarded with a gratifying win over the very embodiment of England support itself. Them somewhere-in-England-and-I-don’t-give-a-fuck-where tramps of Leicester. It is only when the mutant is drunk on glory that we see the mask slip and the true mutant underneath. The brown brogues with jeans minty bastards went to Madrid and sung about Gibraltar. Can Scotland take us with them? We could get used to being surrounded by heroin over time, we’d just pretend it’s Birkenhead. Actually, fuck off Scotland.
So with six points from the champions in our arse pocket we have another home game to get excited about and it’s a kind fixture list that drops off Burnley on our front doorstep. It’s never as easy as that with Everton mind.
So what can I tell you about Burnley? Not much you already know to be fair. Burnley are a good people, put them in contrast to the tedious sing-a-minute cringey fucks of Leicester and you’ll be pleased of the amicability of Burnley folk, their down to earth and steady reliable Lancastrian ways. As neighbours go we could have done a lot worse than Lancashire. They’re alreet.
Burnley is also that thing we value of being comfortable in it’s own skin. Burnley knows what Burnley is and isn’t gonna fuck about wearing a mask or costume and pretending to be geordies. Fuck that. It’s working class all the way and don’t get above your station, lad. If you do then the soap fearing folk of Burnley will soon smack you back down. The scruffy fucking bog snorkelling clampet fucks. Happy now Burnley? You want some of this shit? You’re practically fucking gagging for it. Burn-leh. Speak normal you one speed twats.
I can’t stand how scruffy they are. I mean we all have our moments, for fuck sake we have our fanta skinned fascist women going “the” Asda in curlers and pyjamas but that’s still levels above Burnley. It’s like a whole village dressed in that shite mountainwear discount stores you see in “shopping villages” in Scotland. Burnley treats Sports Direct as though it’s River Island. Dunlop toffee sole trabs with the sole flapping off at the front. Absolutely fucking hideous tattoos, of which no less than 74% contain a St George flag or other English pride symbolism.
Do you know these EDL and white man marches that turn up and take a shoeing at Lime Street? Burnley sends them first class, next day delivery. It’s an utter hotbed for impotent angry men who are brought up in Burnley and some mad shit in their brains signals them into thinking they’re superior to others.
Ever had nits? Nits are from Burnley. It’s the Mecca of nits. When your kids go to bed of a night and start tearing at their scalp it’s due to the movement of nits turning to face Burnley.
Scurvy? You fucking know where it’s from. You touch any mud in Burnley with bare skin and you’ve got scurvy. Not only that but if left untreated then you’ll start ordering Desperados in pubs, sleeping with your brother’s wife and scanning Auto Trader for a shite XR2i with neon lights shining from the underneath. Allow that shit to metastasize and there’s England flags outside your window every second summer and you’re eating Toast Toppers for dinner.
In conclusion Burnley comes out very well compared to it’s Premier League peers and it’s enjoyable to watch them really consolidate their position in the Premier League with a savvy team and actual likeable manager, backed up by a proud parochial support who’s right behind it’s local team bloodying the nose of the more famed and rich. No complaints on them rallying and turning us over at Turf Moor. But for that they must pay and pay dearly.
Sean Dyche looks like an angry Scotch Egg.
Here’s a list of some of their players.
Andre Gray – said some shit on twitter, scored some goals, his kids will be wealthier than probably any of us.
Ashley Barnes – the type of striker we were linked to from 1993 to 2005. He would have swerved us for someone like Burnley too.
Defour – the type of player we were linked to from 2006 to 2010. He swerved us.
Hendrick – seriously the kip of him. Butlins 2nd prize lookalike contest of Robbie Savage, the Ayia Napa dangering fuck.
– Rare photo note: who’s behind him?
Joey Barton – one of an elite few Evertonians who’s showed his arse to the Gwladys Street. He’s a Huyton lad.
Boyd – is stood right next to Hendrick in Ayia Napa guzzling some mad yard of cocktail in one while their mates film them and call them “mental” and “animals”. You catch up later with them at River Reggae getting knocked the fuck out by the bouncers, and smile.
Michael Keane – yeah looks sound him.
Heaton – good goalie.
Let’s chat Everton though.
– 2: an angry scotch egg
The more shit goes on the more it is plainly clear that Romelu Lukaku is fucking us off in the summer to pursue winning stuff. I can’t say that typing that doesn’t pain a little but we’ve had four years of the big ace shithouse leathering the ball into nets in the name of Everton so c’est la vie. Our Premier League record scorer and will be remembered fondly I’m sure. Replacing him will be a shitter but what can we do? Try everything we can to make him stay, that’s what. Sign Didier Drogba and promise him he’ll get game time and to bunk bed with Lukaku on aways. Promise Lukaku there’ll be a platinum statue of him and Pogba instagramming the fuck out of each other outside Bramley Moore on the first day it opens. Promise to name Bramley Moore the Roger Lukaku Has Tremendous Bollocks stadium. And obviously don’t hold any of our promises. Seriously though there’s likely five more games, enjoy him, he’s Kanchelskis good.
Barkley can fuck off though. Not as in to another club but just fuck off and sign a new contract and stop all this shit because you’re a local lad who’s not even proved what he can do at Everton so fuck off thinking you can do it elsewhere. He’s living pretty much everyone’s dream and should be sufficiently astute to realise that he needs to help us win shit. If he jibs us off then bevvying anywhere in town is gonna be infinitely more hazardous, but for the rest of his life. I’ll swill the Liza Minelli haired dolt with my five dollar shake if he ever steps foot in Santa Chupitos again. You reading this Ross? All i wanted was a lousy letter or a call. I hope you know I ripped all your pictures off the wall. Probably Mirallas will play up there too as he’s running around like he’s on first time flake at the moment. Keep that shit up.
Schneiderlin is sound. One Everton midfielder that. Fuck off with your Mark Pembridge at the back and let me enjoy a beautifully balanced midfielder. Gueye is harassing opposition players like a wasp and a Cornetto. Tom Davies is a very good young player and if he ever ever fucking thinks about leaving us then I’ll drink a fifth of a bottle of vodka and lock my girlfriend in the trunk.
Jagielka is doing the time honoured tradition of piping down those amongst us that can’t wait to write off talented long serving players of ours as “finished lad”. I’m guessing Williams will return to partner up with him, and that Holgate & Baines will be full backs. I can’t see any run out of youth while there’s still a mathematical chance we can snare a place above us, that’s not the style of Koeman – with his face like a hideous marshmallow – and Everton are all the better for it.
Robles loves to put the shits up Evertonians which may in some way detract from his chances of being our long term number one. Naturally hope he cuts that shit out and prevails, we shouldn’t forget his save towards the end. Oh and we’ve been tolerated balls sailing over our keeper’s head since 2006, why the uproar now?
Time of get off the bog now. Into these blues.