Terry Christian

He’s not dead?
Good!
Let him watch City march on and on and on and on and on.
Let him watch as his beloved nytid bounce from one new dawn or corner turned to the latest kick in the bollocks from the only Manchester Treble Winners.
Late 1980’s to mid 1990’s it all seemed to be about Manchester in the entertainment sphere - he was the equivalent to that snotty nosed, NHS glasses wearing (plaster over one eye), soap dodging, nit infested little fucker who everyone took the piss out of in school - the talent he somehow weaselled his way into must have thought he was the crud on the shit we all avoid standing in and indulged him purely out of pity.

No discernible talent whatsoever.

He’s nothing more than a whoopsie offer, bargain bin in a pound shop version of Timmy Mallett. Sorry Timmy!

Pretty sure he’s the bastard child of Susie Mathis and Mike Sweeney.
A poor man's Chris Evans, and he's a ****, too
 

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