two words for you. "jog on"
My personality type states that i am an empath, which means i know how you feel. So i have ritted a poem for you, in simpatico. Its called.
THE BLACK CLOUDS OF HADES.
As i cast mine eyes to the skies my eyes cry,
The black clouds of hell seeps into my soul as i simper,
The black waters of Hell wash over me.
A dunghill, thou art, full of vermin o County.
I seek death to calm my troubled soul,
From yo konk haired blood suckin punks,
These Jezebels that wear the shirt,
Alcoholic on the pitch,tricky,shuffling, cads.
To the flesh knotter, that his fathers balls,
Should spew to this,indignation,
Cursed be his BMW, thou king of County, to be no more please.
The prisoner in the dock, i wear my black cap.
My spirit is weak, my eyes are dim,
My heart grows slow,
Is this how it is, finally,?
My life is to end now, my life force is gone, every time i read,
County 0 Cambridge 1.
Pretty good eh? I already have a publisher interested, though he doesnt like the last line, he wants County 0 Hardy 1. I know how depressed you must all be, having dedicated your footballing lives to County to have this facing you. I give thanks that United have one foot on your head, metaphorically speaking, if one has to go down, its you.
Dont go to your GP, you can get counselling on the internet. Keep taking the tablets. p.s, if your on alcohol at least drink something decent. Some years ago an Italian agency stated that people were only alcoholic because they were drinking poor wine, a good wine solves the problem. This IS true.
Professor Trollope.
two words for you. "jog on"
Am i going to far?, i can never tell. I spent five minutes writing this poem, you dont like it then?
Or how about
There was an old man called Rog
Whose team was a bit of a bodge
To lighten his aura
He found a team poorer
And took the p*** out of them instead
In Cambridge while poling a punt,
Rog an idea for a stunt.
Went down Meadow Lane,
but forgot his brain,
And ended up looking a...
There once was a Cambridge fan,
Who saw his life go down the pan.
To cheer himself up,
He weed in a cup,
And drank it with his dinner of spam.
There was a young man call Psaw
Who decided to marry a Mecaw
He hated its beak
As it pecked his little deek
Which was still hard from a 1-0 full time score.