Basically just a posted email (842 hits)
Category: Politics -> IraqRating: -1.62 on 10 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <Arafat.of.the.land> (View user info) at 2004-11-17 16:13:32 EST
I'm feeling all angry about these modern day footballers and I know
why they have gone all soft. It's because of poncy names. That's what
it is. Remember the old days when footy players kicked a fucking ball
made out of ten pounds of clay stitched inside a steel reinforced
leather shell with laces made out of piano wire? Well, in them days,
players could only survive the rigours of the game because they were
called things like Albert, Arthur, Bert, Harry, Bill, Eddie, Bob,
Jack and Tommy. Fucking tough names for tough men them was. And what
do we have now? Gareth, Jason, Wayne, Dean, Ryan, Jamie, Robbie.
Fucking tarts names they are. Great big fucking poofs.
No wonder the ball's like a fucking balloon and shin pads are like
slices of bread. In the old days you never saw a Len Shackleton or
Billy Wright with a poofy little Sondico piece of paper down his
little thin socks. Fucking shin pads in them days was made out of
library books and socks was like sackcloth. Same with jerseys.
Fucking shirts with holes in 'em now so they can breathe. Yes and so
Jamie's hairless chest can breathe and he doesn't get a chill. Fuck
off. Stanley Matthews used to dribble round Europe's finest wearing a
fucking tent and shorts cobbled together from the jacket of his demob
suit. Aye he bloody did.
No wonder players fall over whenever an opponent comes near them. And
they never used to show their arses at one another either. Can you
imagine what might have happened if Don Revie had flashed his ring at
Nat Lofthouse during a City-Bolton Wanderers game? He'd have got one
of them size 13 hobnail fuckers up his chuff.
Fucking therapy for stress my arse! Stan Colleymore slaps his missus
about and he takes three seasons off with stress counselling. What is
that all about? In the old days, it was expected for footballers to
belt the old sow about a bit, especially after a bad defeat. And the
old women used to expect it and so they should have, they was lucky
to be married to footballers.
Ernie McShi** of Port Vale got run over with a horse and cart one
Friday night and still he turned out against Bradford the next day.
And he scored two goals. That's cos he didn't have a poof name. Good
old Ernie. It is said he broke his hip, both legs, murdered his wife
and buried her under the patio and still made the England team for
the home internationals. Did he have any stress counselling? Did he
bollocks!
And drugs? There was none of that in the old days. Oh no. In them
days it was a quick shot of morphine before the kick off and you was
lucky if you got that. By half time it had all but wore off so they
pumped you full of Laudanum. None of this cocaine sniffing and
shooting up class A narcotics.
Goal celebrations. Don't talk to me about goal celebrations. Crawling
on the floor and thrusting their hips at the crowd. Huh, I'd have
liked to have seen Cliff Bastin do that after a run down the left
flank and crossing for Alex James to fire home a winner. Handshakes,
that was all you got. That and a wank in the showers afterwards. But
it was a proper wank....all man stuff. None of these poofy wanks
between blokes that you get nowadays with players like Graeme Le Saux
and Stephen Gerrard. Allegedly. It was just a harmless bit of
spanking the plank among healthy young sportsmen.
Sixty grand a fucking week! Ha! I wouldn't pay 'em tuppence. Two bob
is what Tommy Lawton used to get....a month! And Tom Finney still
worked as a plumber four days a week when he was playing for England.
Its true you know. Players had to work them days just to make up
their money. Not like today. Stan Pearson had to clean sewers and
doubled up as the Old Trafford shithouse cleaner. He had to go off
during one game because a log jam had built up and blocked the "U"
bend. And that Eddie Hapgood, he was a male model, though he never
liked to talk about it.
So I say we start calling kids real male names again. If you're
having a kid don't even consider a poofy name like what people call
their kids these days. Otherwise, what are we gonna get in twenty
years time? The England team full of players called Ronan, Keanu,
Ashley and fucking Chesney. Fuck that, call your kids Herbert, Len,
Fred and Wilf and lets get the poofs out of the game once and for
all!
Eat that.
User Reviews
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2004-11-17 17:49:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
I'm wondering the same thing.
Submitted by NerfHerder (user info) at 2004-11-17 17:31:12 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Why did i even click on this?
Submitted by zakalwe (user info) at 2004-11-17 17:13:40 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Twisted firestarter.
Submitted by Sarcasticus (user info) at 2004-11-17 17:05:16 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Ripoff of George Carlin
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:47:29 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You're not exactly "improving with age".
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:28:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Dude, soccer is a gay man's sport in the USA. You're askin' for a letdown....
Submitted by Arafat.of.the.land (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:23:54 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Basically your third post of the day.
___________________________________
Clever, who would've thought my title could have been turned round so ingeniously?
Submitted by mazman23 (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:22:52 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Oh.......I get it........this is about SOCCER!!
Submitted by slowlyrotting (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:20:57 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
herbert was my middle school bus driver
and its a little gay
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2004-11-17 16:20:04 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Basically your third post of the day.