Wenger must deal with Wilshere’s Twitter rant

Hic! Henry Norris is the rather squiffy football correspondent of the Bugle newspaper and an ardent Arsenal supporter to boot. Each week he’ll join us here at arsenalinsider.com to bring you his forthright views on all things AFC…please be advised, he hits the bottle early!

Jack the lad…

Now then, it occurs to me that our very own wonder boy, Jack Wilshere, has been irking the Arsenal supporters by way of his missives on something called Twitter. I am told, though can’t be sure of the veracity of the information, that young Jack issued some sort of statement in support of the Chelsea boys.

Apparently, Jack voiced his backing as the King’s Road charlatans put that Italian mob Napoli to the sword in the European Champions League contest staged at some dilapidated arena in God-forsaken west London.

I asked my buxom new secretary Audrey (rather an egg at mixing a decent G ‘n T) to peruse aforementioned social networking site for confirmation of this anomalistic outburst and, wincing, she told me he actually stated: “Come on you Blues!” Ye gods! Pass the sherry.

Not good form, Jack old son. Not good form at all. Far be it for me to become embroiled in this dreadful episode but may I suggest Mr Wenger take a strap to young Wilshere’s backside and remind him of his duty to Her Majesty’s Arsenal. And that includes despising cretinous carthorses such as those who represent Chelsea.

It is only since the grinning idiotic Russian holding folding swanned into town looking for a plaything that this plague has flourished. The last thing we need is for one of our own to offer succour to their boil-infested cause. Make mine a double…

Lionel Richie better than Lionel Messi

We are told Lionel Messi is the best footballer to have ever graced the Beautiful Game. What utter hogwash! In my opinion only exponents of Association Football who have represented the Arsenal can qualify for that epithet.

And so here and now I decree the estimable Glenn Helder ( a Lionel Richie lookalike if ever there was one) to be the globe’s finest footballer ever, not some deluded Argie midget who has walloped in 50-odd goals for some Spanish team which barely makes a mark on the world stage.

Cleavage chronicles

On to matters of deviance and as I mentioned my office gal Audrey (hired purely for the morning tonic that is her heaving cleavage) tells me there are a number of titty bars to visit when I travel to Liverpool for the contest between Everton and our boys next Wednesday. A pre-match visit to a fleshpot has always been my way of doing things and combined with a few bottles of fizz offers the perfect preamble to the encounter.

My favourite jug-joint is Aphrodites, which is located beneath the Pen and Wig Pub. I have found the scantily-clad wenches here all support the Royal Arsenal and are very keen on earning extra lucre for a bit of a fumble. Spot on! Previously I have bumped into Evertonian luminaries such as Howard Kendall, the bloke who wrote the Z Cars them tune and beefy ex-binman Neville Southall on my visits to the area. It’d be nice to share a tincture with the fine souls once more.

In other news, I have a number of associates in the Merseyside environs and to make use of the modern parlance I have to admit they are “heavy-duty” chaps. Now, I know some of you will view my nefarious dealings with these Scouse scallywags as bordering on illegal but, remember, a gent has to make a buck, right? Audreys don’t grow on trees.

See you at Woodison, as those cheeky blighters from Anfield refer to the ancient stadium in which the Toffees kick a ball.

Pip Pip for now…

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