I can see the half time team talk going well...
"So, what did he mumble?'
"Dunno...."
All whilst the hookers and lap dancers wander round the directors box waiting for him to finish with his football thingy and get drunk... :lolol:
Graham Potter. If I was sitting next to him that would mean I'd be his assistant and I'd simply funnel the voices and opinions from NSC into his ear.
I would then take full credit for us pipping Citeh to the title, then beating Real Madrid in the Champions League final the following year...
Oh yeah... I read about that this morning in the paper, then a seagull flew past, the dog barked a bit - and other things became more important like my coffee and pain au chocolat.
I can see the manager of Citeh's trophy room on the internet ordering more silver polish and tutting...
Can't even be arsed with these threads any more... Have we become 'normalised' to all this?
What killed all these people? Errr.... Guns. So what do we need to do? Offer our condolences and blame something else.
Hard boiled shite. They tasted like the bottom of a pensioners handbag.
If you wanted rotten teeth, a sugar rush and inoffensive breath, Pacers were the way forward punk: