Half-Arsed Saturday Thread

You know how some weeks, you wonder if it would be even theoretically possible to give less of a shit?

That is Hippo today.  And last night, when I wrote this slop.  Apologies in advance.

Early Bird Special is Everton getting its shit pushed in by City of Men (7:30, USA).  I said by not at but the mind does gravitate to that mental imagery.  There is no fucking way I am setting my alarm for that, and if my asshole brain wakes me up?  Fuck it, I shall just go to First Watch and grab some fancy (for North Cakalaky) brekkie.

USA is showing Redshite hosting Burnley in the 10:00 window, because Klopp’s bollocks just taste *THAT* good!  Stream the yeah right/Litre derby, or Luton Town and Team Knifey instead.  Live a fucking little.

Robins Hood host the Spotlight Dance (12:30, NBC), against Geordie Arabia.  BLECH.  A Toffee can’t hardly actively root for Forest points at this stage of the relegation swirl down the terlet.  But I sure as fuck ain’t losing the last scintilla of me dignity cheering for the Bonesaws.

Try again on Owl Day, with Arsenal playing the Hammers (9:00, USA), followed by Villa/Men Untied (11:30, USA).  Then, of course – the Kings of AFRIKA are crowned at 3p (BeIn).  There is no reason whatsoever to watch the Owl pre-game nonsense, and you deserve the shame you’ve EARNED if’n y’all do.

What else should we talk about today?  I am just proud of myself for turning the heat off Friday afternoon, so that maybe I won’t resort to switching the a/c on today.  My ded pappy would be proud, ah sez.  Except that he’d NEVER consider putting the a/c on in February.  It could be 95 out, and he’d have his principles.