Well I am off to do number 27 and live like a bee for a month, so while I buzz round the house for a bit, have a good day everyone, it looks like a sunny morning out there.... He's still here. Oh fuck....
Day 1351 and 1352. It is another Saturday morning, and one can't help but notice how quiet it all is. No one has said anything daft for ages. We have gone from a brave new world to the sound of silence. Well, as things seem to be going a bit better in the key area, let's all just sip our coffee and nibble on our little amaretto biscuits quietly this morning. But we haven't forgotten he's still here. Oh we've got long memories fuck....
Day 1353. Yesterday a group of fine players in their supposed twilight years illuminated what a false new dawn we appear to have yet again in front of us. He's still here. OH FUCK...
Day 1358 and 1359. This morning the B.O is on the phone to the manager. " Ramsbottom, I'd like a word." he begins. "Boss, actually the name's Robinso........never mind." says the voice at the other end of the phone, wearily. " Stop mumbling Ramsbottom, and listen to me." continues the B.O, " I had absolutely nothing to do last Sunday, so I decided to tune in via the live link for once and watch this first team of yours in action!" " But boss, that was the ex---" " Don't interrupt, Ramsbottom" says the B.O. " I just wanted to tell you I was very impressed with what I saw!" " But, boss---" " WILL YOU STOP FUCKING INTERRUPTING!" yells the B.O. " I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!" There is silence at the other end. " As I was trying to say, that's a tip top first team you've got there. I was particularly impressed with a young chap by the name of Alan Cranberry, who strolled around the pitch as though he owned it. He doesn't, of course, I do, so mention that to him, but otherwise, I liked the cut of his jib. And I was also keen on some of the new young lads coming through from the academy, Keith Frisbee, Lee Banger, and a big chap called Herman Bigchap. Quality players, we'll sell them in January! And I also liked that muscle packed fellow who was pinging the ball all over the place, Pedro Garden. He had some pace! Yes, a fine team I've built there! The only blot was that number 3 who blasted his penalty over the bar, that Chris Pole. There's something about him I'm not keen on. Sack him. And that bloke who came on at the end, just to score a penalty. Lazy. Get rid." The B.O gives a sigh. " And I was pleased to hear the crowd getting behind the team! Not a single protesting bastard from CARD ( whatever that is ) in sight! Brilliant! And I had no idea there was another team called Charlton in this soppy little league! That must get confusing!" He stops. " Ramsbottom......are you crying?" he says. " No, boss......I've just got something in my eye." " Right... well, anyway my coffee and little amaretto biscuit have arrived. So be a good chap and fuck off now eh." There is a click. Well,maybe it's good to know that sometimes quality is recognised. But he's still here. Oh fuck...
Day 1358 and 1359. This morning the B.O is on the phone to the manager. " Ramsbottom, I'd like a word." he begins. "Boss, actually the name's Robinso........never mind." says the voice at the other end of the phone, wearily. " Stop mumbling Ramsbottom, and listen to me." continues the B.O, " I had absolutely nothing to do last Sunday, so I decided to tune in via the live link for once and watch this first team of yours in action!" " But boss, that was the ex---" " Don't interrupt, Ramsbottom" says the B.O. " I just wanted to tell you I was very impressed with what I saw!" " But, boss---" " WILL YOU STOP FUCKING INTERRUPTING!" yells the B.O. " I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!" There is silence at the other end. " As I was trying to say, that's a tip top first team you've got there. I was particularly impressed with a young chap by the name of Alan Cranberry, who strolled around the pitch as though he owned it. He doesn't, of course, I do, so mention that to him, but otherwise, I liked the cut of his jib. And I was also keen on some of the new young lads coming through from the academy, Keith Frisbee, Lee Banger, and a big chap called Herman Bigchap. Quality players, we'll sell them in January! And I also liked that muscle packed fellow who was pinging the ball all over the place, Pedro Garden. He had some pace! Yes, a fine team I've built there! The only blot was that number 3 who blasted his penalty over the bar, that Chris Pole. There's something about him I'm not keen on. Sack him. And that bloke who came on at the end, just to score a penalty. Lazy. Get rid." The B.O gives a sigh. " And I was pleased to hear the crowd getting behind the team! Not a single protesting bastard from CARD ( whatever that is ) in sight! Brilliant! And I had no idea there was another team called Charlton in this soppy little league! That must get confusing!" He stops. " Ramsbottom......are you crying?" he says. " No, boss......I've just got something in my eye." " Right... well, anyway my coffee and little amaretto biscuit have arrived. So be a good chap and fuck off now eh." There is a click. Well,maybe it's good to know that sometimes quality is recognised. But he's still here. Oh fuck...
Hilarious...3blokes,tip of the hat for u there squire...Quality...!!!
Comments
A fine start to the season thus far. But he's still here.
Oh fuck...
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
This is a thread of NO hope...
Well, I'm fairly positive he's still here.
And I'm fairly positive my reaction is still
Oh fuck....
He's still here.
Oh fuckity fuck....
He's still here.
Oh taped shoe fuck...
Well I am off to do number 27 and live like a bee for a month, so while I buzz round the house for a bit, have a good day everyone, it looks like a sunny morning out there....
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
Another fine result.
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
He's still here.
Oh FUCK...
He's still here.
Oh windy fuck.....
Bin day comes around once more.
He's still here.
Oh recycling fuck.
Oh fuck!
He's still here.
Oh Friday fuck..
It is another Saturday morning, and one can't help but notice how quiet it all is.
No one has said anything daft for ages.
We have gone from a brave new world to the sound of silence.
Well, as things seem to be going a bit better in the key area, let's all just sip our coffee and nibble on our little amaretto biscuits quietly this morning.
But we haven't forgotten he's still here.
Oh we've got long memories fuck....
Yesterday a group of fine players in their supposed twilight years illuminated what a false new dawn we appear to have yet again in front of us.
He's still here.
OH FUCK...
He's still here.
Oh fuck....
He's still here.
Oh fuck...
Another bin day. They come round so fast.
And he's still here.
Oh rubbish fuck....
He's still here.
And it's an oh fuck from me.
Clue: The opening of the training ground is scheduled for 2117.
Cue speech " I may not get there with you...etc"
This morning the B.O is on the phone to the manager.
" Ramsbottom, I'd like a word." he begins.
"Boss, actually the name's Robinso........never mind." says the voice at the other end of the phone, wearily.
" Stop mumbling Ramsbottom, and listen to me." continues the B.O, " I had absolutely nothing to do last Sunday, so I decided to tune in via the live link for once and watch this first team of yours in action!"
" But boss, that was the ex---"
" Don't interrupt, Ramsbottom" says the B.O. " I just wanted to tell you I was very impressed with what I saw!"
" But, boss---"
" WILL YOU STOP FUCKING INTERRUPTING!" yells the B.O. " I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING IMPORTANT!"
There is silence at the other end.
" As I was trying to say, that's a tip top first team you've got there. I was particularly impressed with a young chap by the name of Alan Cranberry, who strolled around the pitch as though he owned it. He doesn't, of course, I do, so mention that to him, but otherwise, I liked the cut of his jib. And I was also keen on some of the new young lads coming through from the academy, Keith Frisbee, Lee Banger, and a big chap called Herman Bigchap. Quality players, we'll sell them in January! And I also liked that muscle packed fellow who was pinging the ball all over the place, Pedro Garden. He had some pace! Yes, a fine team I've built there! The only blot was that number 3 who blasted his penalty over the bar, that Chris Pole. There's something about him I'm not keen on. Sack him. And that bloke who came on at the end, just to score a penalty. Lazy. Get rid."
The B.O gives a sigh.
" And I was pleased to hear the crowd getting behind the team! Not a single protesting bastard from CARD ( whatever that is ) in sight! Brilliant! And I had no idea there was another team called Charlton in this soppy little league! That must get confusing!"
He stops.
" Ramsbottom......are you crying?" he says.
" No, boss......I've just got something in my eye."
" Right... well, anyway my coffee and little amaretto biscuit have arrived. So be a good chap and fuck off now eh."
There is a click.
Well,maybe it's good to know that sometimes quality is recognised.
But he's still here.
Oh fuck...
Now Fuck off Roland & sell up
He's still here.
Oh Monday morning fuck...
He's still here.
Oh fuck...