Is it bad that i scour the internet daily for news from Belgium of freak natural disasters taking out crumbly coffin dodging multi euro squillionaires?
Is it bad that i scour the internet daily for news from Belgium of freak natural disasters taking out crumbly coffin dodging multi euro squillionaires?
I am going to miss this thread maybe start a new one 'Counting the Days since Roland Duchatelet Sold the Club' could have a smiley emoji after each day :-)
I am going to miss this thread maybe start a new one 'Counting the Days since Roland Duchatelet Sold the Club' could have a smiley emoji after each day :-)
That's a bit like the customer who kept gong into the bank to speak to the Manager who had kept bouncing his cheques. Unfortunately the manager had died suddenly in a tragic accident which the clerk at the enquiries counter kept telling said customer all week.
On the Friday the clerk said 'Look Sir I keep telling you the manager has passed away can you not understand?'
'Oh yes' says the customer 'I understand, I just like hearing you say it'
Day 1386 and 1387. Part 1. Well for the time being the count continues, but who knows maybe he’ll be on his way soon The count’s still here. Oh fuck....
Part 2. It is another Saturday morning and The B.O is in his shed staring sadly into his coffee. His little amaretto biscuit lays on the bench, untouched. His fragrant niece, Daisy suddenly pops her head round the door ( no, not on a stick, stop it ) “ Hello, Uncle Dancelot!!” She says brightly with a big giggle. The B.O. shudders, closes his eyes for a moment. “ Oh fuck...” he whispers. “ That’s all I need...” He opens his eyes and gazes into his coffee once more. “ Guess what! This will make you laugh! “ she cries hysterically. “I just read on Twitter that some stupid supporter thinks you might be selling de cloob!! How funny is that!! As if you would!! AHAHAHAHAHA HA!!” The B.O does not look up but says quietly. “ I might be...” Daisy stops laughing wildly. “ Whaaat?” she says in a small voice. “ I want to sell.” Says The B.O “It’s all a load of bollocks. Everyone hates me. People don’t dance enough at my clubs and then they get all moody if the team lose. Talk about kill an atmosphere, the miserable bastards! And to top it all I’ve been fucking well relegated on Football Manager 2015 AGAIN! I’m now in the East Grintead South East Division and I don’t think that division even fucking well exists! I just don’t want to play any more. Football is shit. “ Daisy clutches her throat, her eyes wide in alarm. “But you....can’t.....I’ll be.....I mean why didn’t you tell me, you thoughtless cock! Tesco’s have already recruited all their Christmas Casual staff! You’ll ruin my fucking Christmas!! AAARGGHHHHH!” And with that she runs screaming out the shed, passing Mrs B.O. who has come to collect the coffee cup. The B.O turns to his wife and surveys the open door. “ Do you think I’ve upset her?” He asks. “Well, we can but hope.” She replies. “but I get the feeling she will be fine.” “Darling, do you think i’ve been running against the tide like a sort of King Canute?” Asks the B.O Well, you’ve certainly been a ‘king ‘something spelt a bit like Canute’. But finish your coffee, eat your fucking biscuit, and then clear the bench.Sell up. We’ll fuck off and you can take me somewhere exotic and buy me that dishwasher like you’ve always promised me. And you’ll have more time to count all your rivets.” So let’s leave the B.Os making plans to do something worthwhile with ALL that money and let’s hope we approach the festive season with some good news. He’s still here. Oh fuck....
Day 1393 and 1394. It is Saturday morning and The B.O is glum. He is standing in Curry’s with a thoughtful Mrs B.O, as they both stare down at a long line of dishwashers. “ ‘King hell.” He thinks to himself.” Is this what my Saturdays have come to? Tedious trips to look at bloody household appliances. To think I could be digging out my dancing shoes ready for the football match this afternoon!” He looks around dejectedly and spots another miserable looking man with his wife, gazing at the selection of microwave ovens. The two men’s eyes meet. The other man gives him an eyes to the ceiling look. “ I know what I’d rather be doing eh.” He says with a small shake of his head. The B.O nods. The other man continues. “ Pretty selfish, isn’t it really? I mean, there you are, you have your Saturday all set up to have a bit of fun after a hard week at work and little by little, they come along, don’t they, and take over, till there’s nothing to be done but stare at shitty microwave ovens and decide what laminate flooring you should put in the kitchen. When it comes to it, they’re all heartless bastards eh!!” The B.O. shuffles a little and shakes his head. “Oh come on,” he says, “I’m sure your wife is not all bad....” The bloke stares at him in amazement. “Who’s talking about the missus!” He exclaims” I mean you, and your ilk! Dickhead owners! Since you decided to play Football Manager 2015 with de cloob, I’ve had no choice but to avoid your shit version of the football experience and go to B&Q and Currys and Dunelm! Do you know how fucking sick I am of looking at net curtains!! But it’s still a damn sight better than imagining watching you dance around like a Praying Mantis on charlie after we’ve just lost at home!” The man starts to move away with his wife, but stops. He points at one dishwasher. “ You should buy that one.” He says. “Oh, “ says The B.O, “Why, is it a good one?” “ No, it’s fucking terrible.” says the man, and walks away. Let’s leave the B.O. pondering rinse cycles, and let’s hope Saturdays improve for all of us soon. He’s still here. Oh fuck...
Comments
Most people are browsing porn.
Bollox... he's still here isn't he?
Day 1385.
He’s still here.
Oh hopeful fuck.....
maybe start a new one
'Counting the Days since Roland Duchatelet Sold the Club'
could have a smiley emoji after each day :-)
Unfortunately the manager had died suddenly in a tragic accident which the clerk at the enquiries counter kept telling said customer all week.
On the Friday the clerk said 'Look Sir I keep telling you the manager has passed away can you not understand?'
'Oh yes' says the customer 'I understand, I just like hearing you say it'
I'm here all week folks
Part 1.
Well for the time being the count continues, but who knows maybe he’ll be on his way soon
The count’s still here.
Oh fuck....
It is another Saturday morning and The B.O is in his shed staring sadly into his coffee. His little amaretto biscuit lays on the bench, untouched.
His fragrant niece, Daisy suddenly pops her head round the door ( no, not on a stick, stop it
“ Hello, Uncle Dancelot!!” She says brightly with a big giggle.
The B.O. shudders, closes his eyes for a moment.
“ Oh fuck...” he whispers. “ That’s all I need...”
He opens his eyes and gazes into his coffee once more.
“ Guess what! This will make you laugh! “ she cries hysterically. “I just read on Twitter that some stupid supporter thinks you might be selling de cloob!! How funny is that!! As if you would!! AHAHAHAHAHA HA!!”
The B.O does not look up but says quietly.
“ I might be...”
Daisy stops laughing wildly.
“ Whaaat?” she says in a small voice.
“ I want to sell.” Says The B.O “It’s all a load of bollocks. Everyone hates me. People don’t dance enough at my clubs and then they get all moody if the team lose. Talk about kill an atmosphere, the miserable bastards! And to top it all I’ve been fucking well relegated on Football Manager 2015 AGAIN! I’m now in the East Grintead South East Division and I don’t think that division even fucking well exists! I just don’t want to play any more. Football is shit. “
Daisy clutches her throat, her eyes wide in alarm.
“But you....can’t.....I’ll be.....I mean why didn’t you tell me, you thoughtless cock! Tesco’s have already recruited all their Christmas Casual staff! You’ll ruin my fucking Christmas!! AAARGGHHHHH!”
And with that she runs screaming out the shed, passing Mrs B.O. who has come to collect the coffee cup.
The B.O turns to his wife and surveys the open door.
“ Do you think I’ve upset her?” He asks.
“Well, we can but hope.” She replies. “but I get the feeling she will be fine.”
“Darling, do you think i’ve been running against the tide like a sort of King Canute?” Asks the B.O
Well, you’ve certainly been a ‘king ‘something spelt a bit like Canute’. But finish your coffee, eat your fucking biscuit, and then clear the bench.Sell up. We’ll fuck off and you can take me somewhere exotic and buy me that dishwasher like you’ve always promised me. And you’ll have more time to count all your rivets.”
So let’s leave the B.Os making plans to do something worthwhile with ALL that money and let’s hope we approach the festive season with some good news.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck....
I very much hope, for the first time ever, that my fuck days are numbered.
He’s still here.
Oh half term fuck....
I'm surprised you haven't created a bot to post your oh fucks for you by now...
And of course
Ohh fuck
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...
Athletic"
Richard Murray sitting next to a Joey...the new CEO in the directors box and saying everything's great.
Would still be a better daily "oh fuck" then Roland and Katrien running the club.
Anythings better then them...
What a good Christmas present we might end up having assuming they do sell in the near future.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck....
Surely 200 weeks is enough, Roland? Just sell the club!
It is hard for us to remain patient for that long !
Hold fast, young shavers.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck....
He’s still here.
Oh disappointing fuck....
It is Saturday morning and The B.O is glum.
He is standing in Curry’s with a thoughtful Mrs B.O, as they both stare down at a long line of dishwashers.
“ ‘King hell.” He thinks to himself.” Is this what my Saturdays have come to? Tedious trips to look at bloody household appliances. To think I could be digging out my dancing shoes ready for the football match this afternoon!”
He looks around dejectedly and spots another miserable looking man with his wife, gazing at the selection of microwave ovens.
The two men’s eyes meet.
The other man gives him an eyes to the ceiling look.
“ I know what I’d rather be doing eh.” He says with a small shake of his head.
The B.O nods.
The other man continues.
“ Pretty selfish, isn’t it really? I mean, there you are, you have your Saturday all set up to have a bit of fun after a hard week at work and little by little, they come along, don’t they, and take over, till there’s nothing to be done but stare at shitty microwave ovens and decide what laminate flooring you should put in the kitchen.
When it comes to it, they’re all heartless bastards eh!!”
The B.O. shuffles a little and shakes his head.
“Oh come on,” he says, “I’m sure your wife is not all bad....”
The bloke stares at him in amazement.
“Who’s talking about the missus!” He exclaims” I mean you, and your ilk! Dickhead owners! Since you decided to play Football Manager 2015 with de cloob, I’ve had no choice but to avoid your shit version of the football experience and go to B&Q and Currys and Dunelm! Do you know how fucking sick I am of looking at net curtains!! But it’s still a damn sight better than imagining watching you dance around like a Praying Mantis on charlie after we’ve just lost at home!”
The man starts to move away with his wife, but stops. He points at one dishwasher.
“ You should buy that one.” He says.
“Oh, “ says The B.O, “Why, is it a good one?”
“ No, it’s fucking terrible.” says the man, and walks away.
Let’s leave the B.O. pondering rinse cycles, and let’s hope Saturdays improve for all of us soon.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...