Last night just went from bad to fucking worse for me. I broke down in Liverpool after dropping my son off at around 5.00 pm. Phoned The AA who arrived at 6.50. Turns out he was a rag from Warrington who knew fuck all about football but preceded to tell me all about how great Utd are and the other nonsense they tend to come out with. Got car on back of van and then I had to sit next to the **** for 45 minutes until he dropped me off, all the time with the radio on listening to us being dismantled whilst this fat **** couldn't take the grin off his face.Caveman said:Listen to the title winning commentary; i swear he cries in anguish when he says "Agüeeerooooooooooooo"! You could replace the "Agüer" with "N" and he could be crying "Nooooooooooooo!"
It certainly wasn't a cry of joy, nor excitement.
I don't subscribe to the media is against us, hiding behind me settee and wearing tin foil on my head bullshit - but i know for sure Tyler doesn't like us.
Got in just in time for the second half and then had to listen to Tyler - I swear if I wasn't already feeling down this **** nearly had me heading for the nearest tree!
The only plus point is instead of being there in person watching us be destroyed I was lay on the settee with a big spliff which eased the pain - recommend it to anyone..