A message from Chirpy

Dear faithful Tottenham supporters,

Hello.

You might know me from White Hart Lane and any given Spearmint Rhinos VIP area. I was, up until this past weekend,  the Tottenham Hotspur official mascot. Handshakes, cuddles and smiles galore and for the more disconcerting amongst you, a gram of coke or bag of weed (what, you think I suddenly grew a pair of t*ts?). I cater for all. I don’t discriminate. Unlike my ex-employers. I’ve been at Spurs for a number of years now having replaced the original ‘Chirpy’ who suffered a quite horrific accident involving decapitation and a Bosch oven. I was on holiday at the time. Abroad. I can have this verified by Smith Allen Mitchell Associates. Contrary to popular belief the original Chirpy did not have plastic surgery and I am not him. These cheekbones are 100% original works of art. And much like several other candidates, I interviewed and accepted the position with some pride.

Now some of you might think that I'm ‘scary’ looking what with my big round intense dilated pupils. Let's be honest here. I am scary looking, in that same brooding way Ryan Gosling was in Drive. But you need to understand and appreciate it’s not all about photo opportunities, PR and waving to the crowd. There was other work to be had, behind the scenes. Sorting out the riff raff in the executive boxes if they claimed to have issues with the service and got a bit lippy with the waitresses. "What's that sir? You don't like the ribs? How about a knuckle sandwich instead". I then punched them in the gut and followed-up with, "How do ya like them ribs now?". Seriously, you had to be there, it's a visual thing, and the waitresses were easy pickings in the aftermath. They were more wet than a rainy Tuesday night in Stoke. I was part of the furniture, as much as that gold cockerel. Just a bit more sociable. Seriously, the old git just sits on that roof every day mumbling anecdotes about the 60s, the senile fool. Can never get him to the pub.

RIP little fella

Okay, sure, I had my moments of unprofessionalism. The reverse gangbang in the middle of the pitch on New Years Eve, pulling Martin Jol’s trousers down during half time in the dressing room and exposing his little tulip. Setting David Bentleys foot on fire. The squirrel and mayo sandwich I left in the fridge over the Bank holiday weekend. Just to name a few. Then there's the incident with Gunnersaurus and a blow-torch. You know he's a eunuch now? That's right, his balls are extinct. Mascot banter innit. Just standard mishaps. I'm a lad. Outside of work I did have a weakness for whores and crystal meth, but then again, what modern man doesn’t? I'm not perfect, I've made the odd mistake.

Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I did.

Couple of weeks back I’m told to take a holiday, rest up they said. I accepted. I spent one week in rehab and the following week in Amsterdam ****ed out of my head on mushrooms. I checked Twitter, I see something about something about a Chirpy re-launch. I think to myself ‘that’s nice’, they’re making a big deal of my return. I get back to Blightly, turn up for work, then get marched to HR. There, it's explained to me in rather abrupt fashion why my P45 is sat staring back at me on a desk separating myself and Donna Cullen. I was proper ready to kung-fu her but little known fact, she's a black belt in Aikido. And I don't like to slap women. Unless I accept the £400 premium and pay upfront. Is there a difference between a slap and a spank? Regardless, can I categorically state I do not want to slap Donna Cullen. Or spank her. I took my P45 and walked out with the words 'we want a wholesome family orientated look, a new and improved friendly faced mascot', still ringing in my ears like fingernails scratching down a chalkboard. Friendly faced or maggot faced? I can't tell the difference.

'New & improved' Chirpy...What a **** (via @Bealeionaire)You heard of Atkins you fat **** ? (via @joelkara)

I was basically 'sacked' and replaced by a cartoon chicken. That’s about the sum of it. Some fat **** character actor that was previously dressed up as a hen for some poxy pantomime up north. A big massive fake botoxed smile and goofy idiot eyes and the most pathetic set of eyebrows I’ve ever seen. Like two electrocuted caterpillars. Since when do cockerels have eyebrows? He's also blatantly into paraphilic infantilism, the diaper wearing sap I can smell his stink from here. Well done Spurs for removing a rock’n’roll edge to mascoting and replacing it with a tumour infested bargain bucket.

I will be fighting this decision and I will have my day in court for unfair dismissal and ownership of image rights along with the freedom to continue manufacturing the love doll range I’ve been selling to stockists in Soho. It's got detachable parts. Caters for all. Because I don't discriminate.

So, this is not the last of me and if you can please contact the club in the mean time in support of my reinstatement as official mascot it will be very much appreciated. Thank you listening.

Regards,

‘Evil Chirpy’

#newchirpyout

Smith Allen Mitchell Associates would like to clarify that at no time during Evil Chirpy's employment at THFC did he deal recreational drugs and no illegal substances were handled inside White Hart Lane. Further to this, Chirpy has now completed his 50 days community service for the incident at the Chick King takeaway establishment on the High Road when two hundred live roosters were let loose on the premises. In addition when the original Chirpy 'passed', Evil Chirpy was in Goa.

New leaked image of proposed Spurs Stratford stadium

Exclusive.

I've managed to get hold of an exclusive 'leaked' ITK mock-up of what the Olympic Site redevelopment will look like if Daniel Levy and the club win the bid and progress with their plans. Exclusive. Not sure how much time I have before this blog article will be removed on advisement from my solicitors. Will fight the THFC lawyers and their court injunctions for as long as I can. I've also included the descriptions of the proposed additions to the area surrounding the OS which was included as part of the stolen image pack.

click on image to expand

1  - Chirpy Towers. To dare is to Cock-a-doodle-doo do do do. Visit the state of the art Spurs Shop and enjoy delightful Michelin quality three course meals in Chirpy's slow rotating head allowing you to enjoy the amazing view of Canary Wharf and Newham, including our deadly rivals home ground; Upton Park. The exclusive Chirpy's EyeBalls penthouse dinner rooms can be booked in advance (premium required) where you can watch the whole game whilst sat at your table...if you prefer to avoid the hustle and bustle of the crowds down below.

2  - The World Famous Home of Stratford Hotspur® and Nandos. The Nandos Stadium. Our new sponsor and club badge thanks to a multi-million pound long term deal means you'll never go hungry for football...or chicken! You can find Nandos outlets inside the stadium and be sure to order the 'take it to your seat*' bucket before the game kicks off (*take it to the seat meal deal only includes a medium coke, for large coke, extra £4 charge, fries not inclusive). The controversial inclusion of red in the stadium name and team shirts is nothing to worry about. Remember, we wore red in our badge back in 1882/83 and a red shirt between 1890-1896. Both the replicas of these shirts are soon to be available in the club shop with our new clothing tagline: Hot for Spurs and proud of our heritage.

3  - Stratford Hotspur®. Home is where the Strat® is, and Spurs is stratting it's hot stuff all over North (eastish) London. You voted to move and we've embraced our local community, repaying their hospitality with a gentle nod of approval to our new surroundings. Location? Geography? Booooring. Why tie ourselves down to a place or a name when the Spurs brand is worldwide?

Stratford Hotspur®. Refined and redefining the game of soccer®. To Revenue is to Do®.

4  - Abercrombie & Fitch / Apple Store. Stylise your lifestyle, pre and post match. Sit down, stand up and look sexy doing so by picking up the latest trends in A&F. Or if you're tech savvy or wish to be, visit the Apple Store and download the Spurs application so you can get all the very latest information after you've already seen it on tv and the internet.

5  - Paul Smith. Another one of our exclusive partnered retail shops for essential football clobber and motifs. Use your season ticket 'card' for special discounts on a wonderful range of ties, shirts and shoes so you're always looking dapper whilst taking in the atmosphere.

6  - We are N17 Land. History is important and for those that wish to live in the past, wipe that tear away you melter and rejoice! We are N17 Land brings you the very best of the olde Tottenham High Road including Bill Nicholson's Gates*, the heritage buildings, littered covered and p*ss stained roads and shut down pubs and grubby food establishments. Win a free copy of The Opus here. Honestly, we have hundreds of them to give away so don't miss out!

*Gates open at 10am on Saturday match-days and 5pm for midweek for access to car park.

7  - Starbucks. You can have a coffee and a muffin on the day to calm those pre-match nerves in one of our coffee house outlets. Free wireless included in-store for the disconcerting fan who wishes to get fierce and do battle online via blogs and forums. So don't be forgetting your ipads!

8  - Slug and Lettuce. Pre-match drink? Over-crowding? Struggling to get to the bar? Look no further than the Slug! And to make certain, we have more than just the one for you to enjoy an alcoholic beverage and give you ample time to tweet your thoughts on the team selection. Pub crawling has never been this crisp and clean!

9  - Harry Hotspur statue. Remaining true to our rich heritage, included on the grounds is an amazing tour de force iconic bronze talking statue of seasoned traveller and warrior entrepreneur Harry Hotspur, who looks East towards Upton Park with menace and an ever so subtle hint of marching fearless into battle. Listen to him sing 'Glory Glory Stratford Hotspur' (debit card charge of £5 per chorus) and point towards deepest West Ham territory. The epitome of glory and progression standing the test of time, a true echo to our past that also retains a place in the future much like Hotspur's legacy that has enriched Northumberland, Tottenham and now Stratford.

10 - Replica Town. Be sure to visit the old fashion pre-match traditional walkabout. Get yourself some Caviar to go or a tuna salad at 'Seastar Fish bar'. Enjoy a sit down meal at Pavro Ocakbas Vegetarian Restaurant or if you've already eaten at home just order yourself a cocktail at the Bricklayers Wine Bar.

11 - Monorail. For our exclusive 'Platinum True Fan' members, get to and from the Docklands in the super fast Monorail sponsored by Bloomberg that will take you from your executive box straight back into the hub of the banking world within minutes. All other season ticket holders, club members and tickets purchased via general sale and on the day - please head towards Stratford station with plenty of time to spare to avoid congestion.

12 - Canary Wharf. Majestic, just majestic! The amazing backdrop on the horizon that will light up the sky on those Glory Glory nights making them that extra special.

Footnote:

You'll note all the Chirpy heads that are located around the ground. They crow if we win, and sing 'Can't smile without you' if we lose. Making sure we are pampering the emotive side of your journey into our world class arena experience. Directions to local shopping centres and words from our sponsors are also subliminally whispered from his beak.

Also, to commemorate the move to the new stadium and the soon to be concluded deal that will see AEG purchase the club and a proposed future franchise merger with LA Galaxy, Daniel Levy will present to loyal Spurs supporters a Monolith at the first home game to be played in Stratford as a thank you and a remainder of services rendered.

COYSH!

Things to get you through a weekend without Tottenham

Does the International break bore you?

England are playing this weekend. Am I the only person who finds it all a bit of a bore when there are no Tottenham games to go to or watch on TV? Don't get me wrong, I'm as patriotic as the next fan...but only for qualifying games and tournaments (when we actually manage to get there).

Friendlies never get my juices flowing. If I can't shout, scream and generally have my emotions soar, dip and ripped apart then it's not really football. Something needs to be at risk. And I don't find pride is when its just a warm-up match. Even if it's in preparation for an important game (next Wednesday) against the Ukraine. Saturday's (against Slovakia) still a friendly. A glorified training session.

Yes I know, Aaron Lennon might play, and if he does well he might (just might) make an appearance next week. Although if you take a quick look at the Beckham feature article on the BBC site you'll note that he has every chance (Becks that is) of playing as Walcott and SWP are not in the squad.

Cough? Forgotten someone perhaps?

And with the debate about whether King should have or should not have been called up by Fabio dragging on and on (you honestly think 'arry isn't going to talk about it some more?), I can't help but look ahead to our next Prem game against Blackburn. Proper bread and butter football.

I don't have Setanta at home and the local pub that shows live games is usually full of West Ham fans who will no doubt be out in numbers carrying around replicas of the Jules Rimet and banging on about '66 and celebrating in the streets that they invented modern day football.

I'd rather avoid it all tbh. But will definitely make the effort for the Ukraine game. For sure.

So to get me through Saturday, I've devised a list of potential activities to help me avoid the overwhelming boredom that would otherwise consume me. Feel free to suggest your own.

1) Work out the points accumulated in the opening eight games under Ramos and then calculate the points accumulated by Harry Redknapp from the time of his appointment till the present day and based on Harry's points to games ratio, work out where we would be had he been manager at the start of the season. Then device a What If Premier League table that will have us within touching distance of a Champions League place and then work out whether we can claim 4th spot based on our remaining fixtures and who we would need to buy in the summer to help consolidate the challenge domestically and in Europe. Then post all my findings and analysis on a Tottenham message board and watch it grow to 100 pages in a day with around 3000 replies. Just for kicks.

2) Throw eggs at the home of the person who wears the current Chirpy mascot outfit at home games. WE DON'T LIKE YOU. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I want the original Chirpy back. The one that doesn't look he's possessed by a demon with a smug Adam Sandler complex.

3) Watch my Sky+ recording of the Arsenal v Spurs 4-4, replaying the final 10 minutes several times to catch the various reactions of the Spurs players and the fans - specifically at the point before and after Lennon equalizes. Then using my TV capture card, create a montage video of the glorious evening with Tina Turners 'Simply the Best' as the soundtrack. Then upload to Facebook and Youtube and then update Twitter every 5 minutes, linking to the video, and posting inane hilarity about how busy the London Underground was this morning and what I had for lunch.

4) Begin legal proceedings to sue West Ham United. The other day I had what I can only assume was a very dodgy lasagna which blatantly gave me the runs and a chronic gut. This resulted in a Vietnamesque flashback in a packed shopping centre - ala Sgt. Elias - falling to my knees, hands aloft, screaming in agony at the returning realisation of how close we came to a dream qualification into the elite of European football. A dream destroyed by a Benayoun top corner finish.

As nobody was ever charged or held accountable for poisoning the Spurs team, and as West Ham were the opposition that day and inflicted the defeat on a side ravaged by ill health, they remain the only ones responsible for my emotional upheaval that resurfaced in such an undignified and public way.

I'm after a reasonable pay-out. Equivalent to what Spurs lost in Champions League revenue. That should cover the trauma and rehabilitation.

5) Walk up to random strangers and state '2 points, 8 games'. The message must be spread to the non-believers.

6) Go round my parents for lunch and refuse to sit down on the sofa. If my dad manages to talk me into sitting down because I'm making everyone feel uncomfortable, I will do so. Then wait until he walks away, then stand up and burst into song: 'Stand up if you love mums cooking, stand up......'.

7) Travel up to Manchester, sneak into Dimitar Berbatov's back garden and then use my state-of-the-art tranquilizer gun to shoot all the squirrels in the vicinity. Who you gonna feed now, Berba? Hey? Who you gonna feed now?

8) Watch my Sky+ recording of the Spurs v Chelsea 1-0. Then using my TV capture card, create a montage video of Modric and his performance, to the music of 'Diamond Lights'. In addition, morph highlights of Moddle into highlights of Hoddle, subtly suggesting that Modric is the new King of the Lane. Then upload to Facebook and Youtube and then update Twitter every 5 minutes to make sure people are fully aware that I'm 'online', either sat in front of a pc or texting updates via my mobile phone.

9) Search through all Bit Torrent sites and Newsgroups for a soft copy version of the Tottenham Hotspur Opus. Come on! Surely someone must have scanned this and uploaded it to the internet? You can find practically anything on-line. Whether it's DC or Marvel comics, books, novels, screenplays, about a million PDF's and random user-guides, every piece of software, music, pornography and movie you can possibly imagine......but no bleeding Opus? Further proof that nobody has actually bought a copy, because if let's say 10 people purchased one, at least one of them would have shared this with the www. It's 2009 ffs. People don't even bother buying Playboy anymore, they just wait for some else to scan and upload it. So I'm told.

10) Stand near the living room window, and pretend I've got Setanta by booing every few minutes. People walking past will assume Ashley Cole is playing shit. And this will bring much joy to the world.

Happy Xmas (War is starting)

I'm signing off for Christmas. Won't be back in front of a pc, willing and able to write up blog rants and download porn until some point after the WBA game. It's what baby Jesus would have wanted.

Because it's a time for family gatherings and gifts and traditional dinner with turkey, stuffing and all the trimmings. For most that is. For me, its the conclusion of my community service thanks to the incident at the Spurs shop several months back.

I got into a scuffle with this one evil piece of shit SOB. Kept looking over, giving me looks. Evil looks. As if he could see right through me and into my heart of darkness. Made me shiver. It was almost like he could read my mind. That's how fucked up he made me feel, just by staring at me. It was unnerving, and considering the reasons behind my presence in the Spurs shop, it was a predicament I did not prepare for and could have done without.

This SOB. We have previous. You know, just a little bit of history. Like you do in life, you get characters who you'd cross the road to avoid because you don't trust what you might do if you stayed on course for them. But the way he kept looking, he was winding me up with his constant smug grin, like he's better than me. Like he's someone. Like I'm no-one. A nothing. A non-entity.

Yeah, keep looking over here at me, you with the face of an absolute bukkake.

I played it cool....to start off with. Obviously trouble is something I always make the utmost attempt to avoid. But this git was relentlessly staring. He may as well have held up a sign stating: "YOUR MOTHERS A WHORE". It was that fucking annoying.

So, my emotions got the better of me. I picked up a football from one of the shelves and kicked it hard in his direction. On the volley. With power. Smacked him straight in the face with it. Broke his nose. Knocked him flat out.

The police said there was no evidence of actual incitement or any other form or provocation from my perspective, as no one witnessed the Pacino/de Niro build-up to the incident. The judge (bless his goodwilled heart) decided it was nothing more than a misdemeanour, thanks to my plea of foolishness. I told the court I was trying to do kick-up tricks I saw on Soccer AM and sort of mis-hit the ball and I was apologetic that someone got hurt as part of my misadventure and lack of natural skill.

But due to the crying children and the protests from the jobsworth cashiers, assistants and manager in the Spurs Shop, the club wanted some form of retribution. Public disorder they called it. Can you believe that? What a world we live in where a person can be deemed a criminal for attempting to play football, in-doors. I mean seriously, get a grip. I got an ASBO for my troubles. And I'm now banned indefinitely from entering the shop. Whoop-de-do. Gutted about that I am. Because I really really really had intentions to spend my cash on Carling Cup memorabilia and DVD's of score-draws.

I guess I was a little tense at the time of the incident, but he got what he deserved. Let me be brutally honest. Even though I've already spent the best part of 50 hours dressed as an elf in an unnamed North London shopping centre, that doesn't mean this thing is over. It's not over. It's never over. No one stares me out like that. No one mugs me off the way he did. Nobody gets in the way of my game. And he did just that. I don't stand for no playa-hating when I'm the playa.

I had business in the Spurs Shop that day. I was going to make a stand. One that included nudity, handcuffs, an effigy of the chairman and a home-made Comolli mask (its actually a Halloween mask of George Bush, but I added Brillo to the hair and Specsavers glasses. Squint your eyes, and its passable as Damien).

It would have been a protest of near epic proportions, thanks mainly to the temporary tattoo(s) I had done on my chest and back, in stencil styled writing, that stated:

"LEVY
OUT!"

"TO DARE IS TO BURN
YOUR SEASON TICKET"

"BLAME LEVY"

"OPUS? ANUS!"

I had an additional tattoo that took 7 hours to complete. The pieces de resistance if you will. Daniels face, colourfully displayed on my arse (which I had to have shaved for the occasion). Guess what his mouth is? Well, nobody would have had to guess if I had the time to set my plan into motion, because I would have shown everyone present exactly what comes out of his lying propaganda-producing boatrace in full graphic detail. But no, that SOB had to give me the look from across the shop floor and psyche me out and ruin what would have been a perfect afternoon of re-educating the Spurs supporting public on all matters Levyiavellian.

I'll bide my time though. Complete my 50 hours. And move on. Because there is always a tomorrow. And where there is a tomorrow, there is a future. And our futures are there for us to strive for and make them into whatever we wish.

Tomorrow is coming. And I see my future. It's a nice wonderfully cooked roast with a side plate of vegetables. This isn't Christmas dinner. No sir. This is a dish best served cold. So it's not actually a normal Sunday roast either. It's a metaphor. I'm being metaphorical. Revenge, its revenge, I'm going to have my revenge.

You hear me Chirpy?

You interfering son of a bitch. I'll 'ave you son. Remember last time out you ended up needing a plastic surgeon. You still got his number? Best pray then that Santa brings you an extra set of eyes for the back of your head.

This is just getting started.