For his myriad faults, at least he knew how to shop, even if he didn't know what he was buying. 

You've got to say, 'I'm a Tottenham supporter, Goddamnit! My life needs transfers!' So I want you to get up now. I want all of you to get up out of your chairs. I want you to get up right now and go to the window. Open it, and stick your head out, and yell, 'I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this anymore!'

So what's the latest sorry collection of non stories, then?  Well, Didier Zokora fell over again. Or rather a proposed sale to Seville has fallen through. 

Gareth Bale is supposedly going to Birmingham on loan. He went off the boil, but still I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Even The Daily Mail have become bored with the Downing to Spurs sketch and are having a punt with a Villa to thwart move tale. So if we learn nothing else this window, it's that the direct opposite of swoop is thwart. Stone me.

And a West Ham supremo, who cannot be named - as I can't remember his name has come out and said they won't sell to us. Every cloud, eh?

So there you have it. A motley collection of half truths and near lies as rarely seen outside the House Of Commons.

 Stewpot Downing... Buy Now Price...

Just a couple of quickies as the weather girl said to the blogger...

Stale news just in then that On Me Ed Stewpot Downing is now days away from seeing what Championship Supremo Gareth Southgate referred to as a 'London specialist'.

News hungry halfwits everywhere looking for a sign, a hope of a transfer from absolutely naffing anywhere and are translating this mention of a mystery medical man as coded language for Our Arry. And may the Lord have mercy upon our souls.

£12 millions is the figure. All I want to hear are those delicate tones of Danny saying, 'I'll give you six.'

Elsewhere, the rather glorious, not to mention lasvishly illustrated The Lane Of Dreams autographed by both Greavsie and Stevie Perryman has begun to turn up on ebay at £50. Do yourself a favour, don't be a plonker all your life and get yours half price direct from author Norman Giller HERE!

BIOYC!

How we laughed. Newcastle United relegated. The 'too big to go down' mantra still ringing in their ears as Elbows led the bonny barcodes into the Championship. That particular bout of schadenfreud could well prove to be short lived. 

Yesterday of saw the first witness take the stand. One Sèbastien Bassong. Whilst a source close to the player said we were shy on the money, The Shelf disagreed and in bold move claimed the deal was in fact, done.

And now it's Obefemi Martins. Stoke are allegedly going 'all out' to get their man. With us and Everton hot on their heels.  Well at least we're chasing the talented carthorses early this window. So much more respectable than begging for them at half ten at night on the closing day, hey what?

As Yids globally twitch and torment, slowly the opposition houses begin to actually act.

Manchester City have engaged one Samuel E'to. 'Give me a reason to love you' said Sam. The men beneath the bedsheets offered him two hundred thousand reasons a week. All with the Queen's head on.

The People are adding to our angst this morning with a story that erstwhile target Arjen Robben may also be another Eastlands target. So where does all this leave us?  Me? I'm scared Ted. 

I have a recurring nightmare whereby we recruit Damien Duff and this Bassong bloke. There were some laudable views expressed on here yesterday in defense of taking on reduced to clear Geordies, but I remain hesitant to put it mildly.

Why are we even considering players who failed to make the grade when basking in the love and the lavish loot up there? Why would they suddenly deliver performances that would boost our ambitions when these injury room loving money pits weren't even capable of galvanising themselves to avoid the drop?

Levy needs to pull one out of the hat here. Sooner rather than later.

Fire sales are not the answer. Sand buckets are however, freely available at Reception, just in case.

BIOYC!

One of my favourite pieces of graffiti was in the kahzi of an independent bookies. The sign above the sistern had been 'doctored' thus, PLEASE DON'T THROW USED BETTING SLIPS YOURSELF DOWN THE TOILET.

What triggered that memory was a flick around various forums and message boards last night to discover that the name Sébastien  Bassong is being touted as a done deal.

How much? Well, like everything else Citizen Ashley is selling I'd expect 75% off whatever it was originally.

If anyone has anything postitive to say, I'll willingly listen, but honestly, what in the name of Gerry Cottle's Circus is going on? Levy was supposed to be in Spain and we were fleetingly linked to Robben and Van Nistleroy. Now it's the relegation royalty that is Downing and Bassong.

Next Week: Heather Mills Unveiled As THFC's New Director Of Football.

 Ubiquitous everyman, Arthur Barren Dent. Not my words, but those of Daniel Levy

One invariably decent source of footy info on t'Internet is Alan Nixon. He's not a fortune teller, rather a guy of good intent and one with good connections as they say in horse racing circles.

Anywho, THIS piece in The Mirror today is worth reading.

The crux of it is that our man Levy has unsurprisingly whacked a big price tag on Barren Dent. Somewhere in the region of £18 million of a whack.

And I can see why. For one, it's Levy selling. For two, despite what your average Yid in the street may tell you, the ex Charlton boy scored goals in his stay at The Lane. Some were derided, some where laughed off and a few where downright denied, but they all went in.

Nixon's take is that Arry wants shot in order that he can then in turn get trading himself. Makes nothing but perfect sense to me.

Now, has anyone got Huntelaar's phone number?

BIOYC!

 Glory comes in three colours and via a bloke in a high vis vest...

After a fair bit of speculation and much hanging around waiting the great unveiling of THFC's latest three revenue streams has taken place.

What can I tell you? Auntie Climax seems to becoming a regular visitor at the HH caravanette.  I promise you, I really did want to be more upbeat, more inspired, but what we're looking at here is a hotch potch of afterthoughts and hopefully the end of our contracts with both Mansion and Puma. 

Bar the black strip, I haven't been impressed with the build quality of any of the Puma Spurs replica shirts and I don't need to be in the same room as these strips to have my opinion changed. They could be made of the finest fabrics known to man, but the bottom line is that the design of these polyester nasties just suck.

The home strip, like our abysmal 125 jobby is more reminiscent of other teams and even other sports, rather than us or our heritage. The away shirt is marred by more of those irritating yellow bits. 

Our third strip should be mustard and we got custard. 

Oh well, Toffs it is.

And speaking of recycling, a bloke on Spurs Odyessy is convinced Chimbomba is off to Blackburn. Every cloud and all that.

BIOYC! 

Making a meal of it so far.. THFC

Essentially this a rumour round up interspersed with what I'm having for dinner.

A source in Spain, via the splendid COYS forum says that the Robben deal is very much a goer.

A perhaps less reliable Sunderland site says Cuddlestone's departure is all but finalised bar which club will snap him up for £8.5 million. 

Hutton, it is said, is subject to a £6 million bid fron Everton.

A bloke called Ben, a man with his finger on or at least very very near the pulse believes that Keane is staying after all. And O'Hara is off to Fulham.

The Mirror is running a new kit piece on us HERE, which if true, would back up accusations that the Keane & Wilson snap that was 'leaked' today was cobblers. Sgt Wilson, you see, apparently hasn't been in the country of late.

So there you have it. A whirlwind of windups or a whip round of welcome news. Take your pick.

What is for sure, we are being linked with more departures than arrivals. Vey, pass the salt.

Evenin' all. A mixed blessing is what I have.

In conjunction with with a fair few others, a very decent chap, with a pretty splendid track record has stepped up to me and said that Pointy Shouty is doing the off. Word is that both parties within The Lane have pretty much vexated each other, not to mention the allure of the Irish Connection at Soondoorland. 

If true, I'm hurt to be honest. This is second time around that the stupid little knacker has fled from our embrace. I never adored Keane. that much is true, but after this...

If anyone needs me, my agent & I can be may found whistfully bouncing pennies off a waitress's bottom in Lexington Street. Every cloud and all that...

BIOYC!

The news broke initially around twenty past lunchtime yesterday afternoon. What transpired this morning only went to confirm things and I've have worked at an urgent pace to firm up as much of the information as possible and blog it. 

I can now exclusively reveal that nothing's happened. 

A chap by the name of Ian Broomfield has been appointed head scout. A signing greated with a universal yeah, but who's he signing?

Pointy Shouty Bloke is marginally closer to leaving for Sunderland but that feels like watching time lapse photography that hasn't been speeded up. Pavlyuchenko's agent even came out and denied something none of could remember him saying in the first place.

England played Germany in an U21 last night. A less spectacular display of pointless running up and down I can't recall. I am dead underwhelmed.

Even the activity of others has produced a muffled so what? Santa Cruz has gone to Manchester City.Who cares? Glen Johnson's off to the Bindippers, Lawd knows how much for a defender who can't. Michael Owen's brochure had it's final proof last night and will be in a mail shot next Monday.

Some good was in the news that Manchester United had faciltated the Winker's exit from British shores. Maybe the Glasiers could buy Championship darlings Newcastle with the lolly and someone will eventually get this window moving.

So here's to something happening. And I'm getting the point where I'm not fussed as to what. News of a fatality in the big Brother house would provide some cheer.

I just want to reassure readers that when nothing else happens, you'll hear it here first.