Too tragic for words. I pray for PM but I can only fear the worse.
It's not the time for point scoring, arguments or [almost unbelievably] having a go at scousers.
I thoughts I was having a bad day moaning about business, money, family and a broken washing machine. I feel like a complete idiot now.
As the man said, I'll be giving my kids an extra special hug tonight when they go to bed. My beautiful scouse wife [ex-Koppite] has now cried into the quorn lasagne that she lovingly made for me, but I don't care as I'm not even hungry anymore.
23 is half my age. The second 23 has been the best of my life. Sorry for boring you all but I'm really gutted about this. I can't begin to imagine what his family are feeling. In the religion of my fathers, we come from god and then we go back to god. The bit in the middle is simply a matter of choice and fate. I don't know if that helps but there it is. PM, you are now my brother forever, wherever you are.x