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Guest Anglofile

I ignore Joe and his sanctimonious bullsh1t!

just on here to wind up the gullable!

Obviously that is just my opinion.

GHS

Only football and fan related stuff. No commentary on business.

Best,

Joe

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oooo it's turned into dead poet's society in here. i'm chuffed.

personally if the band should learn to play anything it should be "ride of the valkyries".

Aussieowl. Just to say thanks for the post. Just off around to the local supermarket to get some eggs.

My son works there (he's coming up on Sunday) in a dead end job. He came home last night moaning like hell.

I'll pop in and give him a copy of your Kipling poem, just priniting it off now. Might make his job more bearable in the short term (he's trying to get into music but thats a different storey).

I think your post was very apt everything considered, just thought I'd let you know.

It never ever fails to get to me. I'll be a wreck by Sunday at this rate.

Ever thought of working for the Samaritans. :biggrin:

Edited by ReadingOwl
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You fill up my senses

Like a gallon of Magnet

Like a packet of Woodbines

Like a good pinch of snuff

Like a night out in Sheffield

Like a greasy chip butty

Like Sheffield United

Come fill me again....

Na Na Na Naa Naa Naaaaa, ooo!

Remember when your best song contained the immortal line "wibbleley wobbely woo"? That was some real poetry. Scrubbers.

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Aussieowl. Just to say thanks for the post. Just off around to the local supermarket to get some eggs.

My son works there (he's coming up on Sunday) in a dead end job. He came home last night moaning like hell.

I'll pop in and give him a copy of your Kipling poem, just priniting it off now. Might make his job more bearable in the short term (he's trying to get into music but thats a different storey).

I think your post was very apt everything considered, just thought I'd let you know.

It never ever fails to get to me. I'll be a wreck by Sunday at this rate.

Ever thought of working for the Samaritans. :biggrin:

no worries mate...figured someone had to throw this one out there pre-sunday. i'll be sat glued to wednesday player [10pm kick off my time] and no doubt the girlfriend will be dragged into it too. she has no choice if she wants to spend time with me sunday night. that being said since the purchase of WP mid-january [coinciding with AI taking over], she's listened to all the matches with me, printed off fixtures and written them in her diary, got an online account so she can purchase from the club shop, and figured out most of the player's names [definite achievement].

re: the samaritans. i'll pass. :cool:

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IF you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,

Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-throw,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

UTO, FTB, WTID

excellent work my son

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You fill up my senses

Like a gallon of Magnet

Like a packet of Woodbines

Like a good pinch of snuff

Like a night out in Sheffield

Like a greasy chip butty

Like Sheffield United

Come fill me again....

Na Na Na Naa Naa Naaaaa, ooo!

DIE DIE PIGGY PIGGY DIE.

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