The stick we get

[Anonymous]

A guy wins the lottery and decides to design and build his dream house.
To be honest 'house' doesnt even begin to cover it. We're talking a huge f***-off mansion. An awe-inspiring building. A work of art.

He hires the best builders he can find and a classy Italian arcitect and work begins.

The neighbours gripe and grumble. They scowl enviously as they pass.

The foundations are laid followed soon after by the bricks and mortar. The roof is put on.

In time the very best fabrics, glass, and marble will be delivered. From all corners of the world.

But right now its essentially a shell. A work in progress.

And the neighbours......bizarrely their envy turns to scorn.

'Look at your house!' they explain in glee, 'Its just an expensive shell!'

The guy is nonplussed. He lights a Cuban cigar and tilts his face upwards to the glinting sun.
Because he has seen the finished plans. And they are breath-taking.

He knows his history. Rome wasnt built in a day. It takes time and patience to construct something as wondrous as this.

He peers down the sumptious driveway and beyond the electronic gates and the jealous neighbours who stand and mock.
Across the road he sees a fine house....but he knows its mortgaged to the hilt.
Down the street he spies a man in an Everton shirt, dancing on his lawn......right beside a decrepid 'For Sale' sign thats been there for many years.

The guy smiles easily and looks forward to a glorious summer.

You forgot the ending, where the lottery come and take their money away, as they realised they had made a horrible mistake, and the mans building goes into administration and he spends the next 10 years back in a third division house.

I hope he enjoyed his glorious summer mind.

GG btw.

So the sad liitle scouser,his feeble mind warped by years of self-delusion and brainwashed hatred and jealousy at his neighbour's good fortune, spends the rest of his waking hours thinking up more outrageous and ridiculous ways of convincing anyone who'll listen that it "should've been me!" simply because he's been playing the lottery for longer...he's had viewers to his house,but they all look around then say the same thing-"isn't that a lovely house down the road?"

He's angry.
He knows those roof tiles are starting to let water in,and it's gradually begining to show through in cracks in the ceiling-you can only see them from inside one bedroom at the moment...and he knows that he needs to do something-anything to get the cash to fix them....but he can't get anyone to help him...."it's no use" he thinks to himself..-"I'll have to sell my prize Austin Healey to fund the repairs,or no-one will buy my house".......this is the last strawn and finally,he snaps-he can contain himself no longer-the years of injustice and bitterness finally rising to the surface..he runs into the street and in a blood-curdling wail yells...


WHY?WHY?THAT MANC BASTARD FROM DOWN THE ROAD!!!WHY HIM?WHY NOT ME!!!!!I HATE THEM!!!THEY GET EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT'S JUST NOT FAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

[Blumooniac]

Great OP. We all have to stand firm at the moment. Clearly, there are some sections of the media and people at other football clubs, be they supporters, owners or employees, who simply don't want us to get where we are going. They would delight in another "Typical City, " cock up.

There will be setbacks, like Wednesday, which will test our collective resolve and they will revel in it. Similarly, they will dig, snipe and try to unsettle the club at every turn.

Well, fcuk 'em. Keep calm and carry on, as the saying goes.

And when success returns and the good times roll again, I will think of my Grandad, who used to watch us at Bennett Street and my Dad, who took me to Maine Road for the first time.

I will crack open a cold one, light up a big cigar, sit back and simply smile.