AWAKE...

...half the night and up early this morning because Charles has to take his Mum to hospital to have the arm that she fractured yesterday put into plaster. (Not altogether sure why they didn't actually do it yesterday when she went to be checked over, but there you go...)

Anyway, I think the reason for not sleeping was probably the aftermath of the horror show at Stoke. I had Twitter on constant refresh, just waiting to hear that Pardew had gone, but, of course, it didn't happen and STILL hasn't happened.

Newcastle are in one huge mess, unless they make major changes and I don't think I want to watch any more matches while he's in charge because his cluelessness is seriously messing with my stress levels. I honestly don't want to experience another evening when Charles is yelling at the TV the way he has tonight.

How can it be that the fans, the pundits and pretty much anyone associated in any way with football can see that Pardewis out of his depth, but Ashley refuses to? The expense of paying off Pardew and his team can only be a fraction of what he will lose when we are relegated. It makes no sense to me whatsoever.