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Greedy Little tykes.
I try not to talk about Football too much on here.
I am , as you may be aware an Aston Villa fan. It's a painful and degrading job but someone has to do it.
Each Bad result tends to put me in a mood for days and actually bruises me physically , so as you can imagine I spend most of the time looking and feeling like Stephen Hawking after a quiet night in with the Wife.
So of Course the total fiasco on Wednesday when we got brutally stomped by Bolton is still a sore point.
However it did teach me a valuable lesson, in that I accept we would do just as well sending out 4 wheelchair bound paraplegics to constitute the Back Four and Mr Mellberg and co can put their feet up.
However this is of little concern to those whose heart lies outside of Villa Park.
The Big Football story is of course Leeds united on the verge of extinction due to the kind of Financial mismanagement that
makes Nick Leeson look like Mr Mcawber.
Now while I have no interest in Leeds as such, being stuck in the arse end of the world means that apart from the usual Man Utd glory hunters , most people who support a premiership side go with Leeds.
And I have to tell you , I wouldn't swap places with one of those players for all the whiskey in Ireland right now.
In refusing to take a 30% pay deferral they are as about as popular round here as an artic truck full of Kosovan Gypsies.
Greedy little Cunts.
I mean fair enough if your boss came to you and said , I can't pay you all your wages, you'd be somewhat tetchy about it.
But I imagine most of us aren't earning 30 fucking grand a week.
OH NO - I'm only getting 20K this week, however will I fucking manage.
There's the Gas bill and I need to pay my TV Licence.
Yes I'm Sure Mark Viduka is down to his last half a million.
utter shite , and all this "oh it's a short career" is bollocks.
For a player to last twenty years in the game is not unusual these days and if you have stashed away a few quid after that time your a prick, plain and simple.
Plus sponsorship, public appearance money, the book deal, the freebies, and the pundits job you walk into when you hang up your boots.
Nice kick in the teeth to the fans who turn up and pay your fucking wages.
Perhaps if your lifestyle wasn't pissed up brawls and gang rape you might have an inkling just how much a season ticket costs and exactly what percentage of the average fans salary this constitutes.
Ungrateful Tossers.
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Chemists are a waste of space.
As a Professional idiot and Drinker I often have to wander down to purchase Paracetamol to stop my skull from fusing.
And every time I go in to Boots , it's packed to the rafters.
Generally it's full of coffin dodgers , wringing their gnarled hands and getting underfoot.
And there is nothing for sale in there, it's a tiny little branch anyway and apart from Nappies, hairspray and Condoms there is nothing on the shelves.
Old People do not need these things , if they do, kill them, old person sex can never be tolerated in any way shape or form as I have mentioned before.
And of course they are collecting 54 different prescriptions to obtain all the free medicine that is required to keep them from dropping dead.
Ooo me back, piles,thrombosis,rhuematism,spastic colon,dicky leg,low blood sugar,flatulence,toothache,weepingtwat,......
just die already.
either that or they are stone cold snowy haired drug dealers flogging pills and potions to there band of arthritic junkies.
So inevitably there are 40 staff behind the counter , one step up making a big fuckin deal of typing labels to stick on boxes.
Oh I'm a pharmacist actually.
Wow how skilful.
you get a piece of paper with a name of a pill , take it off the shelf, type a label and stick it in a bag, and you take a bloody long time doing it.
and for that life saving talent you get a white coat, some black rimmed spectacles and a fucking attitude.
Oh my god Mrs Watson's liver just burst , is there a doctor in the house?
no but there's 25 pharmacists who will stand on a step and type her a label out.
cheers.
give me my headache pills now.
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On a similar subject , I fucking hate the national lottery, I don't play it so obviously you assume that would be the end of that.
but no - apart from hours of piss poor television which is bad enough it also blights my life in other ways.
In other words why don't you hold up the queue in the newsagents for 25 minutes while you buy lottery tickets you twats.
4 for the rollover, one lucky dip, 5 scratch cards, 6 for thunderball , 2 for notafuckingchanceathon, 1 for the Irish deluded draw and I won a pound as well.
Everywhere I go from Off licences, shops, supermarkets , I , an incredibly important man, am delayed from attending to obviously vital business by this shit.
I only want fags.
you want to gamble - go to the bookies.
I wouldn't blunder into William hill for a copy of Razzle and a toffee crisp.
try buying white sliced in a casino and see just how far the bouncers throw you down the stairs.
wankers.
the final straw was today , this old crone who must have been 100 if she was a day was buying lottery tickets and when the woman said that'll be £3.40 , she spent five minutes counting out the money and handed it over saying "I think that's right".
of course it wasn't and the whole cycle starts again.
this is a woman who is so senile that she can't do basic currency calculations.
A - What's she going to do with the money if she won
B - how would she possibly be able to work out if she's won since she appears to be mathematically senile and/or totally blind.
C - by the time the cheque clears she'll be dead.
fucking people
Ram it.
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