So spurred on by my number one (and only) reader Sam, I’m writing a new blog post after a month of work and laziness inspired inactivity.

So, what’s new in the world of Arsenal? Well, quite a lot. I can’t really be bothered going into it though. You’ve read about it all on the BBC, F365, SSN, arseblog, ANR, arse.com, oleole, the broadsheets, the rags, the other blogs... you get the picture. No recap necessary or desired.

One thing that I do want to write about though is Jack Wilshere. As you might gather I quite like the little fella and have high hopes for him. When he made his debut against Blackburn and set his record, I made a thread on another forum about him. Someone replied that they reckoned the thread might end up turning into a Wilshere shrine, where I would obsessively post every little detail about him, even though nobody but me was interested. Nobody else would reply but I would continue to post non-stop, talking to me, myself and I in a way that would best belong in the loony-bin.

I didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. So this is what I’m thinking: I’ll rename this blog to 'The Jack Wilshere Centre for Worship’ or ‘Jack Wilshere is the Greatest’, so I don’t have to risk a moderator closing my thread over mental health concerns. I’m not 100% sure about either of those names, but the rest of the plan is completely kosher. Why?

1. Wilshere is almost gauranteed to be a big star (Arsene says so!), so my blog will get more readers.
2. If it doesn’t get more readers, then I don’t have to worry about people having me sectioned, and I can obsess in peace.
3. If it does get more readers, who then go on to say: “Hey! You’re creepy! You’ve made a blog that obsesses over a teenager!”, I can say: “Hey! Carlos Vela News did it first!”

So all angles are covered. All I need is a name. The Wilshere Wide Web? Hmm. I dunno. Suggestions are certainly welcome.

Anyway, I just burnt my finger on the cunting oven grill while taking my food out, so I’m going to discontinue typing further. Just one question – anyone like The Ting Tings?

Greetings from not-so-sunny Spain! 

I keep hearing that boo-ing the badgekisser "hurts the team".  Well, I know something else:

Adebayor's antics over the summer hurt the team.

Adebayor's antics over the summer hurt the fans.

They have the right to hurt him back.  He deserves to be booed.  How else are the fans supposed to tell him that his behaviour over the summer was completely unacceptable?  It's the only way to reach these millionaire footballers who live in their warped little bubble world, utterly disconnected from the reality of the average fan.

I keep hearing from holier-than-thou retards that you aren't a real fan if you boo Adebayor.  No real Arsenal fan would ever boo a player. What a load of crap. Adebayor took the club and the fans for a ride over the summer.  He treated us like chumps and as soon as he got his big money deal, he was back proclaiming his love for the club and kissing the badge.

Frankly, if you're singing his name after that, then I'd have to question YOUR support of the club.

That's the sound of me being right.

Not a great performance last night by any means, but there are still plenty of positives to take from it, including an all important two-nil win.  The hysterical Arsenal fans of the world will have to wait til another day.

I'm off to Spain for 10 days today so I probably won't be making any new posts before then. You'll just have to control your anticipation!

When you’ve been supporting a team for a while you start to notice patterns and cycles. What might have excited you before doesn't excite you as much now, and what might have scared you before doesn’t do so the next time round. So it is tonight.

Three and a half years ago Chelsea came to Highbury and played out a 2-2 draw. Arsenal were the better side, but Chelsea went on to win the league with a record 95 points. Arsenal started with a 17 year old and a 20 year old in central midfield that day. Sound familiar?

Five months ago we beat Milan 2-0 in the San Siro with Diaby and Eboue on the flanks. The teams we fielded those days were stronger than the one we will field tonight, but then so too were Milan and Chelsea stronger than FC Twente, or West Brom to come.

So my message is this: Chill the fuck out.

Of course I’m a little concerned. That is only natural when venturing into the unknown. But mostly, I’m excited.

A teenage Jack Wilshere scores a brace against Manchester United to win Arsenal the title.

Jack Wilshere becomes a national hero when he saves a penalty in a crucial World Cup qualifier after England's goalkeeper is sent off with all substitutions already made.

Jack Wilshere becomes a national villain after he misses the crucial penalty in a World Cup quarter final.

Arsenal provide a timely boost to Jack's shattered confidence by giving him a new mega deal to keep him at Emirates for the rest of his career.

Having picked up a serious injury and a massive pay rise, Jack Wilshere's career threatens to go off the rails as he starts to hit the party circuit.

Jack Wilshere overcomes his injury and lifestyle excesses to drive Arsenal to another league title.

Jack Wilshere pops up in the box to score the goal that wins England their second World Cup title.

Well, he won England the World Cup after all.  You'd have to be fucking special to do that.

Having won it all and being widely recognised as the greatest player in the history of the world ever, Jack Wilshere calls it a day.

When Francis Coquelin signed on the dotted line at Arsenal this summer, not many people knew who he was.  Not many cared.  Not many, except me.

Two unbelievable performances against the might of Barnet and Szomething of Hungary later and Arsenal fans everywhere are wet with excitement.  Not since Pele has a player made such an explosive entrance onto world football.  Against Barnet, the diminutive midfielder was simply incredible.  Astonishing tenacity, sublime touch, metronomic passing, dazzling step-overs and thunderbolt shooting, it was immediately clear that young Coquelin had it all.  I watched in awe as the reincarnation of Puskas, Beckenbauer, Pele, Zidane and Redondo combined tore through the impenetrable Barnet midfield. 

Perhaps it was a one off?  Not a chance.  Not with a boy this superlatively gifted. 

Against Szomething in Hungary, he was even better.  Coquelin executed Cruyff turns so perfectly, so definitively, that the move should be renamed the Coquelin turn.  His slaloming runs through the heart of midfield were reminiscent of the great Zidane performance against Brazil in the World Cup of 2006. His ability to arrive in the box and finish at the right time was on a par with another of his countrymen, the great Platini.  His timing in the tackle was exquisite, executed with such a level of precision that has not been seen since Bobby Moore.

Szomething never had a chance.

These 90 minutes have opened the eyes of Arsenal fans everywhere.  They are looking at a future World Player of the Year.  By my reckoning, he will achieve that in the next two years.  He will win it at least five times by the age of 25. 

What an incredible talent.  Wenger has done it again.

It occured to me that should Arsenal fail to win any silverware next season, it will be the club's longest spell without a significant honour since the early 1980s.  That would be an appalling statistic, particularly given the club's current stature and financial state.

Wenger has to get it right in the market over the next five and a half weeks.  Another failure and questions will have to be asked, of Arsene and the board. 

Anyway, on to something less serious:  The first four limited edition (tm) CUNT CARDS.

More soon.

I haven't been making any blog posts recently because:

a) I'm lazy.
b) I'm tired of reading about, writing about and thinking about all the summer transfer bullshit.

Anyway, finally there has been some movement.  We got rid of the Belarusian twat and got rid of the Brazilian gent.  I won't miss the former, and I will miss the latter.  I might write something with a bit more substance about Gilberto later, but for now, I'll just say this:  Thanks for the memories, Bert.

The return of Arsenal draws near and I'm excited.  Not quite as excited as I was on Christmas eve when I was 10, or as excited as I was in the moments prior to receiving my first BJ, but still excited.  I've resubscribed to ATVO so that I can watch our younglings in action this weekend against Barnet.  Is it wrong to get so excited about seeing a couple of teenage boys running around kicking a ball?  Probably.  I don't care.  It's Arsenal.