Spanky Neighbour

Ah St Albans. Usually one of the groovy Gandermonium gang's favourite awaydays. A nice town, an easy single train journey up, plenty of pubs in which to refresh ourselves and a decent record there on the football front. What could possibly go wrong? Well, if you've been following us for a while, you might remember our trip up there early last season ended somewhat inconveniently for 1 or 2 members of the mob. So the answer to the question no one asked was: Quite a lot.

Hawaii Constabulary Style

It's been a strange week. Like many other unfortunates across the country, I hauled my Turkey and Quality Street stuffed carcass out of bed on Monday and returned to work after the Xmas break. By Wednesday morning, I'd had my fill and coupled with old reservations about my employers, I'd done what can only be described as 'fucked my job off' and handed in my notice. By lunchtime the same day, I was on a train home, handed 'gardening leave' for the remainder of the next 3 months of my notice period. Which is a bit disappointing really, as I'm shit at gardening. Nor do I have a garden.

Finally, Something to Cheer About

In the words of our very own Able:

"I didn't see that coming"

From the position that we were in at half time and looking at some of the scores on the old box, I will have to admit that I wasn't expecting a turn around like that.

Commit No Nuisance

Its Sunday morning. In fact its half past fuckin' six on a Sunday morning. And where am I? East Croydon. I walk past MacDonald's and there is this fella spread-eagled in front of the door, snoring to his heart's content. People are stepping over him to get inside, how could someone get in such a state? Well lets start from the beginning...

Saints Alive! - One from the Archives

Now, normally when we get a game called off, I'll pop down into the basement here at HQ and have a sift through some of our old records from the previous incarnation of Gandermonium to bung on here as filler. Well, this time the game called off was on New Year's Day, you know, the one that follows the evening you spent getting absolutely munted under the excuse of ushering in another year.

Well, yeah. We went and got absolutely munted at Mr X's palatial residence under the excuse of ushering in another year. So munted in fact that some of us (eg. me) only raised our heads to read the text telling us the game was off before burrowing back under our duvets until nearly 2pm. Which is why 24hrs after we'd normally do this, we're doing this.