The Twitter Match Reports

All the weekend games summed up in a pithy, exciting and wonderous 140 character limit. Can you imagine the effort that goes into being so concise? I can, struggling as I am to flesh out this introduction. You can find more of these reports on Twitter with Little Big Match here.

ARS 7–1 BLB. Myopic French twaterpillar emerges from stupid quilt-coat cocoon just in time to see something worth watching. It won’t last.

NOR 2–0 BOL. Hill-fearing Mustardtown inbreds force grown man who chooses to wear shorts when he doesn’t have to to lick something bitter.

QPR 1–2 WW. It’s mesh vests and hanky codes all round as sub/dom Djib grabs Mick Mac’s Johnson at throbbing West London early bath-house.

STO 0–1 SUN. “Play-acting a sinful disease,” pontificates Pulis the Pious. “Remember what reckless thespianism did to Aaron Ramsey’s shin?”

WBA 1–2 SWA. Going down, Mr Hodgson? EU double entendre mountain dented as Swans come from behind, rendering Baggies goosed & wholly gaped.

WIG 1–1 EVE. Unpalatable Beardsley-faced toffee pushes back boundaries of ineptitude with Traore-shattering display of compound fuckfootery.

MNC 3–0 FLM. Timewarp tycoons’ 70s-themed shindig sees Franny Lee revivalist “diving like a foreigner” in snowbound throwback penalty box.

New 2-1 AV. Dr Heskey’s Lazershow & Human Sacrifice extravaganza postponed after Stephen Warnock escapes noose. Crowd make do with football.

CHE 3–3 MNU. Adorable John Toxic, beloved asbestos mine on legs, sheds fibres from stand, secures place in nation’s heart/lung/brain tissue.