My comments not necessarily about his comments, bit of banter is fine, will actually work against him in a few weeks, but against him as a bloke really.
You know, I woke up this morning and, like yesterday and the day before, revelled in the fact that I'm not Ashley Cole. Or John Terry.
F'kin result.
We don't need a twat-o-meter in our dressing room to gauge the mood. Europe League maybe, but who is likely to have more silverware at the end of this season? Us, playing Ajax or United in the final of the Europa league and still 2 points clear in the domestic league, or you, 7 points adrift and bricking each Champions League draw from now on in case you get drawn against Barca or Real, or even Basel.
Now go to bed Cashley, and dream sweet dreams of the day Cheryl finds a real bloke. Only a matter of time really, before she's in the paper telling her story, happy as anything - how could she ever have thought she was happy with Cashley now that she knows real love? You got damn lucky with that one Ashely, and you know it. You're a scumbag and she fell for it - god willing she won't again, she's more popular, more successful or worth as much as you now. Soon as she gets sorted out with a decent bloke *ping* Oh My God! What the hell was I doing with that dick? Jesus, I even married him!
But, hey, at least you've got your oodles of cash, and itchy balls for life of course. Who needs class eh? Maybe JayTee can even give you his seconds - he seems to have come to an agreement with his other half; shut up and put up, with his shagging around, otherwise he takes away the bling bling. If only Cheryl had been so desperate eh?...
