As everyone knows, you won’t meet a calmer, more rational man on the planet than me when it comes to the men who run my club. However, even I, Zen Man, am at the point where I feel there is a top about to blow.
About two weeks of the window left, to get the players my fucking cat knew we required a year ago and we have no new additions to our outfield squad. I don’t count the two lads we brought back.
We have enough for another domestic domination, but, in the CL, we will no doubt look good for periods, but ultimately fall, due to weaknesses everybody’s auntie can see.
As I’ve said before, this dithering has ruined what should have been a right fucking laugh at our pals across the river. Totally fucking ruined. No matter how much I try to laugh my bollocks off, I can’t. I have other issues about the pricks who run us, to really enjoy the machinations of the pricks who run them. And the glorious fallout therin.
A LB, a CB, a winger, and someone if Matt goes. Which is a cert. Get the players in ffs, so I can have a right laugh and focus on No8 a lot more in regard to the one or two matters that are currently driving him roon the bend. I’m like that. I’m here for him, but as yet haven’t been able to provide the time, due to being wound up like a spring due to dithering cheapskate ambitionless, shitebags.
