That Bill Grant Apology In Full

Ladies and gentlemen of the injury, I feel the need to justify my hijacking of this blog to all the regular readers who have become somewhat confused at my presence here. I decided to take drastic action against Istvanski only recently, but this is something that I had planned from last season - in fact, ever since Palace last gave Rangers a damn good hiding at Selhurst Park. Istvanski made it painfully clear to me how useless my team was and he even gave me the ticket stub from that very same game with the final score written on it in big red felt tip pen. I was not amused, I can tell you.

It's not easy when your team is as atrocious as our hula-hooped shower of shite. The other night, after all the brutal criticism I received from other bloggers such as Dave Mustaine, Ian Holloway and Jake La Motta, I broke down and wept, nearly collapsing onto the tea chest that Istvanski was locked in. It was all too much pressure and it's something that has been eating away at me over the years. Imagine having to hide yourself on a Saturday afternoon for fear of being outed by Chelsea supporters that wickedly rip the piss out of you.

Anyway, my clumsy stumbling must've woken Istvanski up as he started banging from within to be let out. I looked at the clock and suddenly realised that I'd forgotten to feed him his weekly ration of 5 day old baguette filled with nutricious belly button fluff fresh from Sludge's guts.

As I freed him in my depressed state, I just couldn't help letting the odd tear escape from my minces as they trickled down my cheek, hoping at some point to meet up with the considerable trail of snot that had escaped from my nostrils. I resembled an unhappy school child in distress.

I blubbed and broke down, saltwater like rapids gushing from my sad and tired eyes.

And then Ister asked me what I was crying about. I told him. He then said a wonderful thing that stopped the tears in their tracks and cheered me up no end.

"Cheer up Bill" he said "at least your lot aren't having to play in Division 2 like Brentford".

By golly he was right! The ends of my mouth started turning upwards from the frown that I had become accustomed to wearing to a rather large Cheshire cat type grin. Tears of sorrow were washed away by tears of joy! Huzzah!!

I knew right there and then that it was time to set the Ister free from his duties. He was always too rebellious to be a gimp. He just never had it in him (although we gave it our best shot with that over-sized broom handle). It was time for Ister to move on. I had to let him go like the wounded animal that he resembled as he smooched along the road towards the nearest tube station. Ister and I have called a truce between us, one that can last at least until the start of the new season.

So, from now, I'll hand you back over to him - he'll be starting with the next post.

Cheerio,

Bill.

======================================================================

SITUATIONS VACANT

Wanted: Full Time Gimp

Full uniform and cosy living space given to the successful applicant.

Anyone interested in applying for this post should bring their own red ball mouth gag and CV.

We would be interested to hear from any Bees fans who wish to apply for this position (four on the floor).

Call 0208 743 0262 now to book an interview appointment (ask for Bill).