A (fake) note from the Chairman

Evenin all Ken here.

I've decided that due to the situation with the club as it is at the moment that I will temporarily move in to the Chairman's office despite there being a perfectly good hotel a few paces away. Whilst having a clear out of the dusty urns, crumbly raffia biscuits, and flavoured tea bags that could keep out several thousand mosquitoes I discovered an interesting book chock full of ideas on how to successfully run a fine football establishment.

After reading this I have put the following plans in to place. Firstly, that gormless lad we've got sweeping up in the car park should actually be given a more prominent role as advisor or something - he's got some fine ideas on how to make loads of cash. The one about the wishing well in the away car park was genius.

Secondly, I'm going to have to appoint a temporary tea lady as we got rid of the lot of them when I arrived but I'm certainly not stooping to the level of making my own hot drinks whilst holed up in here. I get my lad to make some calls and within the hour he gives me the signal he's got someone. Sadly this is via twitter emojis and certain elements of our supporters and their dirty unauthorised websites claim we're buying bladdy players.

Anyway after a while I receive my first caller of the day and it's some African geezer who says he'll give us £21million but first I've got to give him 10 grand so he can transfer the money. As I wasn't born yesterday I gives him short shrift. He fires an angry e-mail back suggesting that it wasn't like this previously and he misses the old regime. Pah.

A few hours later and I get my first hot drink of the day. In wobbles this old dear, Doris I think she's called, with an old fashioned tea urn which I vaguely recognise, and what could be described by blind man riding a horse as biscuits. I pass on the snacks but the brew is delicious - complementing Doris she says it's an old family recipe passed down from generation to generation. How you can have a recipe for tea I will never know but I thank her all the same and she goes on her merry doddery way.

Several hours later I get another call about someone wanting in to invest. "Look Deano," I say, "I know it's you as you can't do accents so you are wasting your time trying again." He slinks off again. My day though is brightened by the first report from my new advisor Darren. "Knitted players!" I shout. "The kid's a bladdy genius." I ask the Football League if there are any stipulations in the rules regarding this. "Sorry Ken." They say, "Genial Arry Redknapp has already tried this before. So the lupole is closed."

I kick the dog.

I then get reports that we haven't got a dog.

Anyway must be off as I've got chairman stuff to do. I'm also sure I should be ringing someone for comedic purposes at this point so I'm going to have a think. Whilst I do this, get down the club shop and buy buy buy.

Cheers Easy.

Ken.