United Kingdom
Freelance writer with a keen interest in sport, particularly football and American football, music, travel and culture.
Big words. Small words. Punctuation. I can offer all of this and so much more.
Sometimes I write things that aren't terrible. Hire me and if you're lucky I may write you something that isn't terrible. What more could you want?
"Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean." Italians are cool. Fact. Much cooler than us English anyway.
This was the scene this morning... The sun rises on a crisp late-August day. Shaun Harvey, little Shaun Harvey, chief executive of the EFL, stirs from his slumber. He yawns and sits up, bleary-eyed and drowsy. Then his eyes snap open. Little Shaun Harvey bursts out of bed, scattering his Spiderman duvets and pillows across the bedroom floor.
Saturday was just one of those games, wasn't it? Nothing went our way: the second ball never seemed to drop to a Wimbledon player; we conceded via a kick-in-the-teeth deflection out of nowhere; for every shot at goal we had, a Shrewsbury player was always there to get in the way.
EDD PAUL says other other countries, notably Germany, have overtaken us in the way they watch their football... Football, as us Brits love to remind everyone, was a British invention. Formed in the public schools, adopted by the great unwashed, moulded and transformed by decades of bickering, ideological nit-picking and debate - we've done a lot to form the game as it is today.
Thought this column would never try to mix both AFC Wimbledon and the lyrical stylings of Eminem? THINK AGAIN. "Snap back to reality, oh, there goes gravity." Slim Shady could easily have been referring to the Dons' opening day defeat to Walsall on their League One debut with this line from "Lose Yourself".
As I sit here, writing this column, one of my housemates is present and is in an absolute state. He has just returned from a festival, emotionally and mentally shattered, but trying to promote an image of normality - of still functioning like a regular human being, attempting to engage in conversation.
In every walk of life, you'll always find a scapegoat. In your office, there will be a scapegoat; the butt of the jokes, always subject to some top quality office #banter, the one who you'll probably find crying by the photocopier at the Christmas do.
Yes, yes, we got three points - finally - but again, one of the main talking points among AFC Wimbledon fans seems to be our new keeper. What is the meaning of life? What becomes of the broken-hearted? Is it too late now, to say sorry?