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World, fck off

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75
April 18, 2010, 2:16am Report to Moderator
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Quoted from milkmonitor


It was an effort that had to be made.


Quality start m8. I doubt the sleeping missus will be pleasantly surprised to see an upset vicar has ravaged her entire stocks of moet but what can you do?
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louth_in_the_south
April 18, 2010, 2:17am Report to Moderator

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Quoted from 75


Our darkest day is to come Poojah.

I estimate 6 and three quarter days should just about cover it.

But, with the missus in bed (complaing why I wouldn't download episode whatever of 24 or Lost), I have cracked open the remaining bottles of champers from our wedding a couple of months ago - I will get copulated over this tomorrow but I don't usually have alcohol in the house so I'll drink alone and I'll drink whatever I flipping well can).


just had row with the mrs , she thinks ive got a drink problem . cant go to sleep till i pass out and that means drink is the only option . bo llocks to it


Lower F5
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cmackenzie4
April 18, 2010, 6:17am Report to Moderator

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Quoted from Poojah
Now I’m as optimistic as anyone when it comes to this twát of a football club, but after this afternoon’s latest capitulation it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee – we’re fúcked. Down. Goners. Non-league. To be honest I didn’t know how it would affect me, it’s not like it hasn’t been coming, but tonight I just feel absolutely deflated. Absolutely fúcking devastated.

I can’t get away from these emotions, I just want the whole world to just fúck off and leave me alone. To help me come to terms with this whole mess, I’ve decided to compile a list of everyone and everything I want to fúck off most of all.

For starters, work can fúck off. If they think I’m going to be there on Monday morning they’ve got another thing coming. No way am I going in to spend time dealing with cúnts that I can barely stand being with when I’m in a good mood, let alone this crushing feeling of anger, frustration and outright metaphorical-kicked-in-the-bóllocks-ness.

Plastic Premier League fans can fúck off. I just spoke to my Manchester United supporting neighbour (who incidentally, has been to Old Trafford before – twice) about Town’s predicament. You know what he said? “I know how you feel; it’s like when we failed to win a trophy in ‘95”. NO IT FÚCKING WELL IS NOT!

He no longer has a face.

The girlfriend can definitely fúck off. Her best attempt at consolation – “I don’t know why you’re bothered; you knew they were shít anyway”. Yes love, but they’re MY shít team. They’ve been MINE for pretty much as long as I’ve been able to wipe my own árse, and they’ll be MINE for as long as I’m alive (or at least, until I’m no longer able to wipe my own árse). Truth is, watching my team win does things for me that no woman can. If push comes to shove and I’m horny, I can always have a wánk.

Barrow can fúck off. I’ve been all over the country and beyond to watch my team, but frankly I just don’t have the stomach to visit any town which makes Scunthorpe look like fúcking St. Tropez.

Dad, you can fúck off. This is your fault. Your idea. You introduced me to this shower of shít. “Come with me to Blundell Park”, you said, “Come and support the boys”. What could I do? I was fúcking four, what choice did I have? Why not get me hooked on Heroin whilst you were at it? I could have gone with mum shopping for bras and knickers at British Home Stores, but no, you knew best.

Granted, I’d have probably grown up a homosexual but surely even being simultaneously búggered two guys named Seth and Quentin couldn’t hurt like this.

Seeing as we’re on the subject of homosexuality, Gok Wan can fúck off. No particular reason, I just plain don’t like the annoying, goggle-eyed cúnt.

The F.A. can fúck off. Not for supplying us, week-in, week- out, with inept referee after inept referee, but for imposing sensible financial rules on all clubs in League Two. How many clubs in this division have been into administration this season? Not one. How many points deducted? Not one. How the fúck else are we supposed to avoid relegation – footballing merit? We didn’t have to last season, so why spoil the fun now?

The World Cup can fúck off – I don’t care anymore.

My local pizza shop can fúck off. I ordered a 12” Pepperoni over an hour ago, and where the fúck is it? Are they trying to fúcking fly it to me or something?

Sky Sports can fúck off. Nothing personal, but there’ll be little need for me next season with no Town to be found anywhere. Ooh, Bolton versus Wolves, LIVE. I think I’ll pass...

The radio can fúck off. On my way home from the match, whilst driving down the M180, I caught three completely separate stations playing ‘Down’ by Jay Sean at the exact same fúcking time. The song’s the best part of a year old, how the fúck does that happen by coincidence!?

My nan’s old lucky Buddha that used to sit in her front room can fúck off. When I was a kid I held it in my hands and wished for Town to be in the Premier League. I meant the proper one you fat cúnt, not the one occupied by Histon, Eastbourne and for fúck’s sake, Ebbsfleet, wherever that is.

Tonight can fúck off. I’ve had enough of trying to cope with my emotions; the time has come for oblivion. I haven’t kept any booze in the house since an occasion known only as ‘That Night’ by myself and the missus, but suffice to say that the toilet duck and luminous blue mouthwash are looking like stronger propositions by the minute.

Most of all though, the last 10 years can fúck off. In that time I’ve watched my team fall from the top of the Championship into non-league nothingness. We’ve gone from one great big fúck up to the next without even coming up for air, and today is just the big, fúck off cherry on top.

One thing I’m sure of though is that we WILL be back. When it comes down to it, a football club is basically just a set of supporters, and frankly what I’ve learned in the last few years is that this one has some of the best. We’ve had to put up with some shít, haven’t we boys, but in spite of all of that the future is still bright – it’s fúcking black and white.

Grimsby ‘til I die...


another class post by poojah,ive just got into work and started to read fishy as i couldnt face it yesterday,i was in stitches reading this, its made my day, thanks for the cracking post


Grimsby and proud!
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Spiritater
April 18, 2010, 6:38am Report to Moderator
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Quoted from Poojah
Now I’m as optimistic as anyone when it comes to this twát of a football club, but after this afternoon’s latest capitulation it’s time to wake up and smell the coffee – we’re fúcked. Down. Goners. Non-league. To be honest I didn’t know how it would affect me, it’s not like it hasn’t been coming, but tonight I just feel absolutely deflated. Absolutely fúcking devastated.

I can’t get away from these emotions, I just want the whole world to just fúck off and leave me alone. To help me come to terms with this whole mess, I’ve decided to compile a list of everyone and everything I want to fúck off most of all.

For starters, work can fúck off. If they think I’m going to be there on Monday morning they’ve got another thing coming. No way am I going in to spend time dealing with cúnts that I can barely stand being with when I’m in a good mood, let alone this crushing feeling of anger, frustration and outright metaphorical-kicked-in-the-bóllocks-ness.

Plastic Premier League fans can fúck off. I just spoke to my Manchester United supporting neighbour (who incidentally, has been to Old Trafford before – twice) about Town’s predicament. You know what he said? “I know how you feel; it’s like when we failed to win a trophy in ‘95”. NO IT FÚCKING WELL IS NOT!

He no longer has a face.

The girlfriend can definitely fúck off. Her best attempt at consolation – “I don’t know why you’re bothered; you knew they were shít anyway”. Yes love, but they’re MY shít team. They’ve been MINE for pretty much as long as I’ve been able to wipe my own árse, and they’ll be MINE for as long as I’m alive (or at least, until I’m no longer able to wipe my own árse). Truth is, watching my team win does things for me that no woman can. If push comes to shove and I’m horny, I can always have a wánk.

Barrow can fúck off. I’ve been all over the country and beyond to watch my team, but frankly I just don’t have the stomach to visit any town which makes Scunthorpe look like fúcking St. Tropez.

Dad, you can fúck off. This is your fault. Your idea. You introduced me to this shower of shít. “Come with me to Blundell Park”, you said, “Come and support the boys”. What could I do? I was fúcking four, what choice did I have? Why not get me hooked on Heroin whilst you were at it? I could have gone with mum shopping for bras and knickers at British Home Stores, but no, you knew best.

Granted, I’d have probably grown up a homosexual but surely even being simultaneously búggered two guys named Seth and Quentin couldn’t hurt like this.

Seeing as we’re on the subject of homosexuality, Gok Wan can fúck off. No particular reason, I just plain don’t like the annoying, goggle-eyed cúnt.

The F.A. can fúck off. Not for supplying us, week-in, week- out, with inept referee after inept referee, but for imposing sensible financial rules on all clubs in League Two. How many clubs in this division have been into administration this season? Not one. How many points deducted? Not one. How the fúck else are we supposed to avoid relegation – footballing merit? We didn’t have to last season, so why spoil the fun now?

The World Cup can fúck off – I don’t care anymore.

My local pizza shop can fúck off. I ordered a 12” Pepperoni over an hour ago, and where the fúck is it? Are they trying to fúcking fly it to me or something?

Sky Sports can fúck off. Nothing personal, but there’ll be little need for me next season with no Town to be found anywhere. Ooh, Bolton versus Wolves, LIVE. I think I’ll pass...

The radio can fúck off. On my way home from the match, whilst driving down the M180, I caught three completely separate stations playing ‘Down’ by Jay Sean at the exact same fúcking time. The song’s the best part of a year old, how the fúck does that happen by coincidence!?

My nan’s old lucky Buddha that used to sit in her front room can fúck off. When I was a kid I held it in my hands and wished for Town to be in the Premier League. I meant the proper one you fat cúnt, not the one occupied by Histon, Eastbourne and for fúck’s sake, Ebbsfleet, wherever that is.

Tonight can fúck off. I’ve had enough of trying to cope with my emotions; the time has come for oblivion. I haven’t kept any booze in the house since an occasion known only as ‘That Night’ by myself and the missus, but suffice to say that the toilet duck and luminous blue mouthwash are looking like stronger propositions by the minute.

Most of all though, the last 10 years can fúck off. In that time I’ve watched my team fall from the top of the Championship into non-league nothingness. We’ve gone from one great big fúck up to the next without even coming up for air, and today is just the big, fúck off cherry on top.

One thing I’m sure of though is that we WILL be back. When it comes down to it, a football club is basically just a set of supporters, and frankly what I’ve learned in the last few years is that this one has some of the best. We’ve had to put up with some shít, haven’t we boys, but in spite of all of that the future is still bright – it’s fúcking black and white.

Grimsby ‘til I die...

Summed up all my feelings 2 years ago........and every day since.
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thornemariner
April 18, 2010, 7:57am Report to Moderator
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Quoted from Alfie


Not at all, mate.

It means so much to all of us. Although, cheap tickets put a few more bums on seats, you could see today who it really hurt. I didn't know what to do at the end. I don't think many people did. Some people shouted, boo'd, others just sat there or went early because they'd had enough. I was lucky enough to let Mr. Fenty know what I thought of him... obviously in a dignified manner. But it's not nice, and we've been through a lot of sh[right][/right]it. I wouldn't swap it though. Because, I know, one day, we'll be good again. And I know that when we're good again (when we have a new messiah other than that gent in your sig), it'll taste even sweeter. We'll look back on these days. On these last ten years.

We could make it easy for ourselves. Say we're not bothering anymore and vow to support United from the pub. It'd be cheaper and less stressful. But we won't. We'll be there next season. On terraces, pissing against walls that are somehow deemed toilets, going to home games where you can count the away fans on a couple of pair of hands. But we'll be there.

And when we have a bit of luck. Some minor success. An FA Trophy win, promotion even, something. Anything. A smidgeon of success. It'll mean so much more than the feeling any shitcunt armchair fan gets when their side wins another trophy.

We'll be back.


With you there fella. I left at 3 0. I couldn't bear to be there at the final whistle. Its the hammer blows after brief windows of optimism that  wear you down. I'll be back next season though. As you say, any small success would be celebrated now.
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Aryan_imp
April 18, 2010, 8:25am Report to Moderator
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Quoted from 75
I'm devasted as I sit typing on my keyboard, wifey is out with her mates up meggs. I've left my chums in Cleethorpes finest pubs as my (Man Utd supporting) ex Sunday league player (I manage em when at 34, I really want to flipping play), tells me how inept I am when I dropped him (amongst a squad of 32) 6 months ago.

Just kill me, I really don't care anymore.


This is where you dig deep mate, your strength of character will be tested like never before. Big fish in a small pond, literally, from August, so sleeves up for the battle ahead - there is no other option!











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TUFC
April 18, 2010, 11:17am Report to Moderator
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Brilliantly put,

You know you hope when this happens some other poxy club goes bust so yours can stay up. Tonight for the first time I'm hoping it for another club other than my own. I hope for poojah's sake and PARTICULARLY for everyone that knows him or indeed comes within one mile of him it happens.
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porkies
April 18, 2010, 11:56am Report to Moderator
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Perhaps a man who prefers watching a bunch of blokes in shorts running round a field  to making love to a woman has more in common with Gok Wan than he cares to admit???
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laitey
April 18, 2010, 12:26pm Report to Moderator

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great post poojah i for one think we should start singing poojah is are leader nanana then intercourse of fenty,intercourse off fenty at the barnet game

btw to top of yersterday i lost my wallet with £90 + in and my ST so i had to pay for yesterday full price (didnt have a voucher) i will also be using a voucher for the barnet game


People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do  
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RoboCod
April 18, 2010, 12:39pm Report to Moderator
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Great post. As someone who found the original Poojah post pretty good but surprised at the world wide attention it received, I must say this one is a million times better. Better because unlike the last funny-cos-its-true post, this one shows genuine hurt. Shouting, swearing, protesting...all pointless now. Just curling up in a ball and being left alone is the only way out  


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