That flag up in my window, the one of red and white It doesn’t mean I’m racist, or looking for a fight. It doesn’t mean I’m ‘chav-scum’ or ‘simple’ and on the scrounge. It doesn’t say I’m full of hate, or I’d kick you when you’re down. That flag displays my passion, support for England’s boys. It shows […]Read More That Flag
I long to play some football, my circle isn’t interested in that sort of thing and the extended ring to which I once belonged is now a fading memory; my waistline, in contrast, is an ever expanding reality. My thumbs are as fit as fiddles – if fiddle thumbs were a thing, they’d be challenging […]Read More Thumbs as fit as fiddles
“Spurs v Liverpool?” “Do it.” – “Wait. Versus or co-op?” “Co-op.” “Co-op.” “Wait.” “What now?” “Online or against the computer?” “Good call. Er… Shall we take the good fight online?” “Fuck yeah.” Frank picked up the xbox controller and started flicking through the game’s menu screen. “Beer?” “Sure, dude, help yourself whilst I get us […]Read More Offside
My eyes are a bit weary and the coffee I’m rubbing into the sockets seems to be penetrating just enough to let me operate a keyboard at 40%. Apologies if this don’t read good. There’s a reason for my lethargy this morning, and that reason is FIFA’s Ultimate Team and Pro Clubs. These two features from […]Read More The beautiful game. (The tired looking man).
Dear wall, I’m sorry for punching you last night but you did bite my leg before the game had even started. It’s been a bad few days and perhaps, you know, I may have over reacted. I’m sorry for screaming that word out loud before I tried to hit, but the foul upon my foot, […]Read More An open letter to a wall