Showing posts with label football. Show all posts
Showing posts with label football. Show all posts
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Bianca Gascoigne goes on the wall for not giving her poor, alcoholic, fuckwit step-dad the help and support he needs.
Instead the desperate, underwear averse, fame hungry slapper splashed her malformed fake bangers all over the tabloids degrading both herself and the name of the scorer of one of the best goals ever scored in a England shirt.
Slag.
Friday, March 7, 2008
I had the misfortune to witness Tottenham’s truly pitiful capitulation at home to PSV last night and my eye was repeatedly drawn to the following slogan rotating on the electronic advertising hoardings:
Quite how some twat in a Soho office managed to make that association is beyond me, but I know I’ve never come home from a game in the park and thought ‘oh, I really enjoyed that kick around, perhaps I’d enjoy getting shot in the face even more’.
Like football? You’ll love the army.
I can’t even say I’ve ever turned off the TV after watching France v Brazil and felt a strong yearning to watch my friends’ limbs get blown off at close range.
Funny that. Why not extend the anology a little further:
Like chocolate? You’ll love being gang raped.Wankers.
Like flowers? You’ll love being mauled by a pack of pitbulls.
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