"How do lightsabres know to stop at one metre?"

I am getting a bit fed up of people using the phrase "Credit Crunch" as an excuse for everything. It seems that if you commit an act deemed as either a bit frugal, illegal, stupid, if you giggle and cite "heh, credit crunch", you'll be off the hook. So if you spot a crim sucking petrol out of your tank with a hosepipe, he'll clear his gob, offer you a cheeky smile and gasp: “credit crunch, mate" and off you both trot skipping into the sunset. See a man in a white transit drive blatantly into an open field and start cramming as many cows and sheep as he can manage in the back of his van, "credit crunch" he pleads as he shrugs his shoulders. Government gives billions of taxpayers money to the @rseholes who caused this problem in the first place "credit crunch" mumbles our Prime Minister...

Society could be on the brink of collapse pretty soon really, so it's worth a reading a great story in the guardian today about surviving the apocalypse (say it 3 times, La). If you woke up on your own (every other human wiped out), you'd only really have 2 days of electricity and running water in your house, so you'd have to come up with some heating and eating alternatives. I think I've watched enough Bear Grylls to be able to survive in the woods for a couple of weeks, but it'd probably get a bit too Blair Witch in there after a while. The article also mentions some fun stuff (for fun stuff, read 'stealing stuff') you could get up to, in my post apocalypse bogus adventure, I'd be straight off to the Emirates for a game of headers and volleys on my own, grab a trophy (probably the little gold special trophy we got for the unbeaten season - can't imagine hauling the old Football League Trophy on my back for eternity), before heading over to White Hart lane to plant an Arsenal shirt in the centre circle and maybe use various parts of their stadium as a latrine. That'd probably use up a lot of energy (and fluid), so I'd tootle on over to Harvey Niks, grab some fine champagne and snacks and bounce around on the Queen's bed for a few hours dancing to some old skool rave. Apparently, the nuclear reactors would all explode within a week, too, which means your options are pretty limited. I'm in the right place, as Corsham has a series of nuclear bunkers, built for the use of the government at the height of the cold war, just in case those crazy yanks n' Commies got it awwwwn...

Great equaliser by RvP last night after another horrible Arsenal performance, thank jiggery he's fit as no-one else looked like producing any moments of magic. Arsenal are suffering from a severe lack of creativity at the moment, the quick passing and dynamism Fabregas, etc. give them has just dissipated. Adebayor looks frankly awful and Song doesn't possess the passing quality that Arsenal require. Pretty bad time to play Everton (like), they're a frickin' tough team and Cahill really is the man of the moment; he leaps so well for smaller lad, a bit like Podmore Stevens in his prime (but without the bellowing roar of "BRIAN'S!!!!!!!!" preceding the ball hitting his bonce, one would hope)

Neil has set up a new section of his site aside for Funk Pie, so we will be moving over there soon, just a question of finding the time to do it at the moment. I'll set up some kind of redirection though so our millions of readers aren't disappointed.

"I might belong to Jesus"

Bonkers mad transfer window doin's afoot this week. Good grief, over £100m for a player is more ridiculous than when Neil cheated at Championship Manager 2 and gave Everton £250m and a reputation of 10/10.

Kaka's proposed transfer is the story Sky Sports News have been craving since the transfer window creaked open on January 1st. Man City have not only blown the window open, they've blown it open with a Sherman Tank and taken the rest of the effin' house with it. City were happy to pay £11m for Wayne Bridge for crissake, he's not worth that!

It is hard to empathise that money really is no object to their owners; they're even planning on paying for Kaka up front, £107m up front!! What a payday for Milan (for Milan, read Berlusconi), his agent, his dad, and of course, Jesus, as we all know that's who Kaka really belongs to.

But Man City? A team that won't be in the Champions League next season and could still be relegated if the bottom half of the league remains as tight as it is now. A team with alleged dressing room unrest, all led by a group containing two BRAZILIAN malcontents. What happens if they sign him and Richard Dunne drunkenly clatters into him into his first training session and ruptures his cruciate? It's too bizarre to predict what's round the corner on this one. Maybe Abramovich will come out of hiding and try to hijack the deal; a bidding war between those two clubs would be a sight to behold.

The big question if Kaka does sign will be: what happens next? I'll wager it won't be an amusing clip of John Virgo f*rting on a black ball and trumping it all the way into the middle pocket to win a frame of snooker. The transfer system will have been shaken up more than a milkshake balanced in Bella Emburg's cleavage while she operates a pneumatic drill. Will we see all the top earners crying out "Not fair!" en masse and demanding higher wages? Will Man City start a DNA regeneration factory and bring back George Best, Alfredo Di Stefano and Jimmy Carter?

Meanwhile, gooners everywhere await the arrival of Arshavin from Zenit; Wenger seems confident, but someone could always gazump us to his signature. Arshavin - brilliant name, you can grab a few comedy connotations from it, e.g. "Ar!Shavin'" (imagine a smiling, stubbly pirate with a cut throat razor slicing across his chops) "Ars Havin'" (Pete), "Arsha! Vin!" ( a drunken French husband demanding more wine from his poor, bullied wife, Arsha), think that's all I can think of.

Final piece of footie chat, check this goal out from Gourcoff (another player linked with Arsenal).

Quiet weekend ahead, apart from the visit of sister. As monobrowed midlander Brian AP Stevens said very poignantly this week when asked if he would be going out this month: "January, ain't it? You just lock the effing door and wait for February.".

"I'm not wearing any pants. Film at 11"

Buenos noches

Back in the swing of work already - how depressing. The Christmas break was just ace, saw loads of people and had a great time. All over too quick as usual. The Boxing Day match was a triumph, despite the result (the match report is coming, honest). The site of seeing everyone in the pub after the game really warmed the ol' ticker. There's talk of another match over the Easter weekend, so expect another countdown clock in the menu on the left soon. We (Mocha Jrs) were robbed btw, conceding seven goals to the old fellas was harsh, especially after a solid defensive performance from Paul's nephew and big Russ and his shiny new boots.

Speaking of Russ, I spotted one of our childhood crushes in M & S last week, dear ol' Philippa Forrester. We fancied her to the extent that we wrote her a cheeky little letter asking for a photo, preferably in swimwear (back in her broom cupboard days). I wouldn't want to see her in a bikini now, mind...

Great news about La and Rach having their baby; lil' Amelia is a cracker, can't wait to meet her, although she'll probably be in school by then (let's hope it's sooner tho, like).

Speaking of babyness (sorry, that sounds like a la-ism), Lou and I are currently trying to come up with some names for our next arrival, due in June. I'm currently going through the cast list of Star Wars and the annuls of Arsenal history for some inspiration, no success yet tho.

Exciting Premiership happenings at the moment, Arsenal seem to be one or two wins away from getting back into it, but that's been the case all season. I expect the top two is probably too much to ask this season, think we'll be in a fight to the finish with the Villa and those blue ponces from West Londinium. Thankfully, the Spuds are providing plenty of laughs at the other end of the table.

And to finish, Brian is back with a joke of the week. Our Dudleybot has also started a new band, which is hopefully better than this gag:

a wife says to her husband one night,
"tonight, i want you to make love to me like they do in the movies!!!"
so he does....he begins by ripping her skirt off her, then all sorts of bedroom gymnastics, and some particularly graphic acts, are performed with the husband having the time of his life. suddenly his wife, who finds herself with her mouth empty for a change, yells out
"STOP!!!!!!!!!!!"
"why?? what's wrong??!!?" replies the husband...

..."well" says his wife, panting.....
"you obviously watch different movies to the ones I do!!"