Counting the Days 'Til Roland Duchatelet Sells Charlton Athletic

Day 1564
He’s still here
Oh fuck...

Day 1566 and 1567.

Roland, perhaps you are close to a sale, who knows, but all of us, including even you probably, have BETTER things to do, than our unhappy association.
So let’s get the deal over the line.
Because like us, you must also be thinking you’re still here......oh fuck

Day 1570
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...

Day 1572
He’s still here.
Oh fuck...

Day 1573 and 1574

Normal service will be resumed soon.
In the meantime, he’s still here.
Oh fucking unbelievable fuck..

blackpool72 said:

3blokes said:

Day 1573 and 1574

Normal service will be resumed soon.
In the meantime, he’s still here.
Oh fucking unbelievable fuck..

I'll help you out this morning mate.



Just sell the club and FUCK OFF

I think that covers it pretty well, Blackpool

Day 1576.
Still the beat goes on.
He’s still here.
Oh fuck....

Day 1577.
He’s still here. What a twerp.
Oh waste of everybody’s time fuck..

Day 1579.
Another of this miserable old count.
And he’s still here.
Oh fuck...

Day 1580 and 1581.

It is yet another Saturday morning and The B.O is in his shed counting out portions of chips.
Mrs. B.O comes in with his coffee and little amaretto biscuit, and today she has a few people with her.
“ Here’s your coffee.” She says “ And these people are from a new political party, and they want to talk to you.”
The B.O. looks up.
“Ah!” He says brightly. “ Of course, you are after some guidance and advice! You know I set up my political own party, Viva!”
“ Viva? What you mean....like the old Vauxhall? “ says one man.
“ Yes, exactly.“ says Mrs. B.O. with a grimace. “It was a pile of old shite that he never did get going.”
She leaves with a sigh.
The B.O. suddenly eyes the people suspiciously.
“ Hey, you’re not from BOOT are you?” He says.
“ BOOT?” Says a woman, puzzled.
“ Best Owners Out Today.” Says The B.O.
“No!” Says the woman. “ we’re from —“
“ Hold on, wait a minute.... you’re not from that SWOT lot, are you? Stupid Wankers Out Today?” Says The B.O.
“ No, we’re from —“ begins one man.
“ Are you from SCOT, then?” says The B.O.
“ SCOT?” Says another man. “What’s that?”
“ Similar to SWOT, but a little more earthy.” Says The B.O.
“ No!” Says another woman. “We’re from ROT.”
“Oh.” Says The B.O. “Now I’ve heard of them. Isn’t it a protest party about some awful old bloke who they say has fucked up a load of football clubs across Europe, and he’s this weirdo who thinks he’s a fucking visionary!”
“Yes. That’s the one.” says a man. “It stands for Roland Out Today.”
“Oh, that’s funny, he’s got the same first name as me!” says the B.O. with a chuckle.
He takes a sip of coffee and a bite of his biscuit.
“ So.....” He says. “This Roland of yours.... he’s out today, is he? Where’s he gone? Anywhere nice?”

Let’s leave the worthy members of ROT considering the places they would like shove a placard or two, let’s wish them well on their endeavours and let us remember one thing (as if we could ever forget) -
He’s still here.
Oh fuck