Admire your attendence in this thread 3blokes. Would of thought at least 1.5blokes by now!
Ha ha I would like to say it is a labour of love but it's quite the opposite Whenever I think of the mighty success we are achieving under this owner, I am reminded of that line in Take The Money And Run which goes something along the lines of - " ...while Virgil's father pursued a brilliant military career, that after 20 years, had catapulted him to the rank of corporal." We're mid table in League One after 3 years, with the outside possibility, if we all work REALLY hard, we might just get a play off spot. Or not. Oh fuck.
Day 1128 and 1129. It is another Saturday morning but today there is no one in the shed. There is no one trying to blow up ants in the garden and the psychiatrist's 11.00 appointment has been cancelled. For the B.O has gone missing. He is nowhere to be found. Oh dear. An emergency meeting has been called. The mood is sombre. "He was last seen in his Alexander The Great helmet holding his plastic sword walking towards the newsagents. He was muttering how he was " going to pay back the infidels." says Mrs B.O to the small gathering. She sits down. The man next to her gives her a reassuring smile. She looks at him. "Anton, do you think something has happened to him?" she says quietly. The man gives her a soft smile and lays a comforting hand on her arm. " We can only pray." he says quietly. " But, I'm sure he's fine, he's probably out there somewhere, having the time of his life, calling people stupid and dancing around like a demented penguin." Mrs B.O nods. Another man stands up. " So, people, we need to start organising a search." He says. Another man holds up his hand. " Could I just raise a point of order here?" He says. " Can I just ask.... is anyone round this table....actually bothered?" There is a silence. Eventually, one young man puts his hand up. Everyone looks at him. He stares back at them. " What?" he says defensively. " Where else would I get another job like this! I'm only twelve!" The others sigh and turn their attention back to the man who is standing. " Right, well I rang de cloob to see if, by any chance, he was there." He said. " What did they say?" says Mrs B.O. " They couldn't stop laughing." replies the man. Mrs. B.O stares at him. " They were still laughing about the idea 20 minutes later when I rang them back." he says. "So, I suppose we need to look closer to home. We need to organise a search as soon as possible" " Well, let's have lunch first." says another woman. Everyone nods. Just then the door opens and B.O walks in. He looks at them in surprise. " What are you lot doing here?" He says. " Where have you been!" cries Mrs B.O. " I was just paying the papers and getting some milk." replies The B.O holding up a four pinter. " For coffee." Everyone looks at him. And then the realisation dawns that nothing has changed. And each man and woman there silently mouth THOSE words to themselves: He's still here. Oh FUCK......
( well except one, of course.But, be fair, he is only twelve.)
Day 1135 and 1136. (Yes, it's double entendre weekend on this thread)
It's another Saturday morning and Mrs. B.O is bringing the B.O his morning coffee in his shed. As she enters, he turns to her brightly and gives her that special smile that always reminds her of a wolf she once saw on the telly. "Oh that's perfect!" he cries approaching her with open arms, " You're just the person I wanted to see! Because I have had another amazing idea!" Mrs B.O stops suddenly. "Darling," says the B.O, " I want to show you.....my fandango!" Mrs B.O gives him a grimace. "Yes, I could see it as soon as I walked in, can you do up your dressing gown a bit, please." she mutters with a slight shudder. But the B.O has entered full Visionary Mode. His mouth is already several weeks ahead of his brain. "It's part of my new grand new vision for my network of clubs." He continues, his eyes shining "We're going to change the "FC" in all of them from "Football" clubs to "Fandango" Clubs. It's simply genius, we won't even have to change a lot of the signs!" "But.... but you've got a football club network! Aren't you already a bit busy... pissing everybody off with that?" says Mrs B.O. The B.O. lets out a loud snort. "Football schmootball!" He cries "Football is far too complicated! People are fed up with it. At all my clubs, attendances are falling. People are protesting. Why? Because they are sick of all the football! They want entertainment! And there's fuck all of that at any of my clubs!" He strolls round his shed expansively. "No these days people want something different! And I shall lead them to what they want! I am going to show them what even a man of my age can do with an impressive fandango!" " Dear God..." sighs Mrs B.O feeling suddenly faint at the thought " But darling, have you ever considered that maybe there will be people out there, football supporters, who may just want to watch football...and not your fandango?" The BO looks at her in amazement. "What an odd idea!" he says finally. "Really!" He gives his head a wry shake. "Of course they will want my fandango because that's what I've thought." says the B.O looking at her in bemused astonishment. "It's perfectly simple. I'm a fucking visionary, aren't I! Do try to keep up a little, darling!" He gives a little laugh. Sometimes she could be almost as dim as a member of CARD. Whatever that was. "Think of it darling. " he says dreamily. "No more worrying about what league we're in! No more January transfer windows where we have to pretend we're just about to sign someone! It will just be so....great!" Mrs B.O lets out a long sigh. She ushers him to a seat and sits down next to him. "Darling, " she begins quietly. "you've made a mint... you've had a go at changing the world and no one was interested in your fucked up ideas......now why not just let the world be? Give it a break? What's it ever done to you? Leave it in peace....can't you just retire and read books, drink coffee and eat your little biscuits....or take up gardening and potter about in this lovely shed, like any normal rich twat would?" "But what about my fandango!" says the B.O. "Just do up your dressing gown darling, and leave it alone. Drink your coffee. And be quiet." says Mrs B.O firmly. Wise words indeed. If only he would take heed. But he's still here. Oh fuck.....
Who knows, depends if he's the 'stupid' one. He has the financial muscle to keep the club for years. But this is an extension of his business empire that appears to be going nowhere for relatively small and potentially decreasing return, as far as I can see. But I may be the 'stupid' one here. Perhaps it is all going great for him and he's really proud of what he is achieving here. For the moment though it all feels to me a bit like the giant squid holding onto to the Nautilus (?) in 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea. Sometimes you just need Kirk Douglas poking about with a pointed stick.....
Comments
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
Admire your attendence in this thread 3blokes. Would of thought at least 1.5blokes by now!
Whenever I think of the mighty success we are achieving under this owner, I am reminded of that line in Take The Money And Run which goes something along the lines of -
" ...while Virgil's father pursued a brilliant military career, that after 20 years, had catapulted him to the rank of corporal."
We're mid table in League One after 3 years, with the outside possibility, if we all work REALLY hard, we might just get a play off spot. Or not.
Oh fuck.
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
It is another Saturday morning but today there is no one in the shed. There is no one trying to blow up ants in the garden and the psychiatrist's 11.00 appointment has been cancelled.
For the B.O has gone missing.
He is nowhere to be found.
Oh dear.
An emergency meeting has been called.
The mood is sombre.
"He was last seen in his Alexander The Great helmet holding his plastic sword walking towards the newsagents. He was muttering how he was " going to pay back the infidels." says Mrs B.O to the small gathering.
She sits down.
The man next to her gives her a reassuring smile.
She looks at him.
"Anton, do you think something has happened to him?" she says quietly.
The man gives her a soft smile and lays a comforting hand on her arm.
" We can only pray." he says quietly.
" But, I'm sure he's fine, he's probably out there somewhere, having the time of his life, calling people stupid and dancing around like a demented penguin."
Mrs B.O nods.
Another man stands up.
" So, people, we need to start organising a search." He says.
Another man holds up his hand.
" Could I just raise a point of order here?" He says. " Can I just ask.... is anyone round this table....actually bothered?"
There is a silence.
Eventually, one young man puts his hand up.
Everyone looks at him. He stares back at them.
" What?" he says defensively. " Where else would I get another job like this! I'm only twelve!"
The others sigh and turn their attention back to the man who is standing.
" Right, well I rang de cloob to see if, by any chance, he was there." He said.
" What did they say?" says Mrs B.O.
" They couldn't stop laughing." replies the man.
Mrs. B.O stares at him.
" They were still laughing about the idea 20 minutes later when I rang them back." he says. "So, I suppose we need to look closer to home. We need to organise a search as soon as possible"
" Well, let's have lunch first." says another woman.
Everyone nods.
Just then the door opens and B.O walks in.
He looks at them in surprise.
" What are you lot doing here?" He says.
" Where have you been!" cries Mrs B.O.
" I was just paying the papers and getting some milk." replies The B.O holding up a four pinter. " For coffee."
Everyone looks at him.
And then the realisation dawns that nothing has changed.
And each man and woman there silently mouth THOSE words to themselves:
He's still here.
Oh FUCK......
( well except one, of course.But, be fair, he is only twelve.)
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
Not today... the disgusting teeth fucked gongle wand...
The gongle wanded one remains ( not sure what a gongle wand is but it sounds about right
Oh fuck...
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
He's still bloody here.
Oh fuck....
We're fucked!
(Yes, it's double entendre weekend on this thread)
It's another Saturday morning and Mrs. B.O is bringing the B.O his morning coffee in his shed.
As she enters, he turns to her brightly and gives her that special smile that always reminds her of a wolf she once saw on the telly.
"Oh that's perfect!" he cries approaching her with open arms, " You're just the person I wanted to see! Because I have had another amazing idea!"
Mrs B.O stops suddenly.
"Darling," says the B.O, " I want to show you.....my fandango!"
Mrs B.O gives him a grimace.
"Yes, I could see it as soon as I walked in, can you do up your dressing gown a bit, please." she mutters with a slight shudder.
But the B.O has entered full Visionary Mode. His mouth is already several weeks ahead of his brain.
"It's part of my new grand new vision for my network of clubs." He continues, his eyes shining "We're going to change the "FC" in all of them from "Football" clubs to "Fandango" Clubs. It's simply genius, we won't even have to change a lot of the signs!"
"But.... but you've got a football club network! Aren't you already a bit busy... pissing everybody off with that?" says Mrs B.O.
The B.O. lets out a loud snort.
"Football schmootball!" He cries "Football is far too complicated! People are fed up with it. At all my clubs, attendances are falling. People are protesting. Why? Because they are sick of all the football! They want entertainment! And there's fuck all of that at any of my clubs!"
He strolls round his shed expansively.
"No these days people want something different! And I shall lead them to what they want! I am going to show them what even a man of my age can do with an impressive fandango!"
" Dear God..." sighs Mrs B.O feeling suddenly faint at the thought " But darling, have you ever considered that maybe there will be people out there, football supporters, who may just want to watch football...and not your fandango?"
The BO looks at her in amazement.
"What an odd idea!" he says finally. "Really!"
He gives his head a wry shake.
"Of course they will want my fandango because that's what I've thought." says the B.O looking at her in bemused astonishment. "It's perfectly simple. I'm a fucking visionary, aren't I! Do try to keep up a little, darling!"
He gives a little laugh. Sometimes she could be almost as dim as a member of CARD.
Whatever that was.
"Think of it darling. " he says dreamily. "No more worrying about what league we're in! No more January transfer windows where we have to pretend we're just about to sign someone! It will just be so....great!"
Mrs B.O lets out a long sigh. She ushers him to a seat and sits down next to him.
"Darling, " she begins quietly. "you've made a mint... you've had a go at changing the world and no one was interested in your fucked up ideas......now why not just let the world be? Give it a break? What's it ever done to you? Leave it in peace....can't you just retire and read books, drink coffee and eat your little biscuits....or take up gardening and potter about in this lovely shed, like any normal rich twat would?"
"But what about my fandango!" says the B.O.
"Just do up your dressing gown darling, and leave it alone. Drink your coffee. And be quiet." says Mrs B.O firmly.
Wise words indeed.
If only he would take heed.
But he's still here.
Oh fuck.....
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
But I may be the 'stupid' one here. Perhaps it is all going great for him and he's really proud of what he is achieving here.
For the moment though it all feels to me a bit like the giant squid holding onto to the Nautilus (?) in 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea.
Sometimes you just need Kirk Douglas poking about with a pointed stick.....
Hopefully sooner rather than later
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
He's still here.
Oh fuck...