Dinna ken about you but I've got that schoolkid-like buzz ye only get fer opening day...Ken the table looks superb...Dons at the top, Huns in a relegation battle...abidy is optimistic, cynicism is at a season low...nae doubting it's by far the best day of the year.
I've been plannin my opening day for oh at least a couple o days now...
A blazin hot day, doon the Bobbin for 1ish, several large scoops, doon the grun for the traditional exchange of opening day insults wi the lads I only see dans the Y ken 'Aw right ye baldy c*nt...Aye nae bad, foos yer doos ye fat Bastard' [No mention of gingers? - Ed] that sorta thing...a rampant Dons put the Heelanders tae the sword...up tae The Pitt for a dozen or so celebratory wee nips...stagger up King Street...maybees grab a Ruby or a Chinkie...or if I'm feeling really exotic some 'Micro Chips' fae the Grill...then start the heavy drinkin and maybees a few snotters o the auld Bolivian Beechams afore endin the night at the Northern Soul/Ska night in Drummonds.
You may notice that the fitba plays a surprisingly small role in my plans and aye it might be the first day of the fitba season but truth be telt, while fitba does play a role this is the first day of a nine-month long festival o binge drinkin, piss taking, general all round naughtiness and anti-social shininigans...with side orders o recreational drugs, shaggin and fichtin added to suit personal taste...it's f*ckin ace innit!
In fact the only thing that's been troublin me over ma plans is whether or no tae wear shorts on the Y...
I mean that's getting dangerously close tae 'Metrosexuality' ken, and then yer only a Sausage Jockey's thong awa fae thinkin Velcro strapped Pink Trainers with Tweed panels are somehow hetrosexual footwear...I mean all that and that's afore ye even get ontae the whole 'Socks/Nae Socks wi Trainers and Shorts' kettle o' fish...nah come to think about it, it's all too much o a mind f*ck...so a pair o jeans it is then.
Aye I've got the morn all planned oot...but of course as we all ken God has this habit o rippin assunder the best laid plans of Mice, Men and Aberdeen fans...if he didnae we'd have won a Cup Double last year and would be practising the Danish for 'So div ye funcies a ride then quine?' for next week's UEFA trip.
Course at this bitty I'm meant tae be discussing our opponents n'at but I've decided their so f*cking boring I'm nae even gonna feckin bother...I mean seriously I want tae find one of thay special remotes ken fast forward them oh say 25 years and gie them a few drunken bams a few sweary songs and chants...at the moment their too bland and dull.
Imagine Tim Henman interviewing Alan Shearer or an audiobook of 'Steven Pressley reads the Karma Sutra'...ken that's how f*ckin boring the Heelanders are...ken far too much o' the f*ckin Swiss Family Robinson about them.
Oh hud on I've come over Cath and Jean...
'Here comes the Corner...WOOHOO
A corner tae the Aiberdeen...
Dah-dah-de-de-de don't know the words...
Dah-De-de-de-de err...something...something
'The finest you've ever seen!!!'
Sorry about that and err...just tae clear things up thon 'come over Cath and Jean' ken wisnae me wanting tae knock een off o'er em like...I mean they must be fit 70 or summat? I may well be a Baldy C*nt ken but ahm nae feckin GILF Hunter...
Now Sarah Cracknell that's a completely different...fit ever happened tae her onyway? A bird that tidy, I mean you'd have thought she wid have shown up on some Celeb reality TV show by now...and while were at it fit 90's fit about about Miki fae Lush eh...now that wis a ride...or wis it Miki Lush fae Ride? Either way ye wouldnae say no...well ye wouldnae have in 1992 like.
Anyway having succesfully distracted ye fae my stunning lack of knowledge about CannaebeatusThistle...I mean did ye really want me tae pad for say 2000 words about Don Cowie, and them never beating us? No didnae think so.
Anyways s'about time we did thon He-He-Ar prediction thingy.
Head - 1-0 the Reds...the usual tedium of a Caley game...decent ruby...good craic...get a trap in Drummonds but walk home alone...I knock one off to Millie Clode/Hollyoaks on Sunday morning.
Heart - 5-0 the Reds...superb night is had...I pull the fittest bird in the joint...a night of mind blowing shagging follows...I get a full breakfast in bed and a gam on Sunday morning...then she tells us her auld man owns a brewery/distillery...result!
A*se -0-2...They score early we batter them before they score with a late late breakaway...I break my foot booting inanimate objects on the Merkland Road then get rat arsed and about 10 get asked 'Don't you think you've had enough sir'...and faced wi the option of a night in Jumpin Jacks I stagger doon Holburn St into Hass's and tell the boy behind the counter...'Hemmin you look like 'at Graham Spiers min' at least a dozen times in 10 minutes before provoking an all out brawl when I start arguing wi another punter that 'Mealie Pudding is the same thing as White Puddin ya c*nt'….I blackout and wake up wi' half a Mock Chop Supper on ma face.
Aye it's good to be back.
Oops almost forgot the contractual obligation to mention the Stand Free Message Board and Beat the Manager and whatever other nefarious money making scams Fred has going...I mean come on the loon's got a bird, a Dons habit and a Bentley to maintain...
And if that hasnae convinced ye then do remember he is Ginger..so please click generously! [...and there it is. - Ed]
Oh and afore some smart arse starts asking where Parts 3 and 4 of 'The Big Kick Off' are...I've been incredibly busy at work this week alright min…
Of course if ye funcy havering keech about the Dons Squad and the rest of the SPL then feel free tae send them to Fred at standfree03@gmail.com...it'll save me a job next week like ye lazy shower o c*nts…and as you can see fae this piece he'll put ony auld sh*te up.
Onyways slater, Stand Free, Forza Dandies and aw the usual bollocks!
The Red Avenger