Curse this blasted place, full of jelly boned swines, slimy belly wriggling invetebrates, miserable rotters, the snivelling palsied detestable walking vampires borrowed from the hammer house of horror.

Am i like this?, i must be, at least i know it. Except for one thing, i am not a blockhead, that name is reserved for tickets for admission to Cambridge games.

I would rather read the first 200 pages of Ulysses, that tosh, than clap when Watts runs out, or the pimply Knight, the mediocrity of Assdown or whatever his name is the keeper. Keeper indeed, you call that a keeper?

I call it Lttlle Nell, Dame Edith Evans, Chuang Tzu, something that fell to earth and United signed it.

Cambridge has a Daily Mirror mentality, has the smell of Corbyns butt, its uncivilised, lacking class, it has harpy talons, a vultures behaviour, it sucks the blood if there is a heart that pumps.

When Columbus came to Cambridge he fled to America, when john steinbeck heard of Cambridge, he didnt come here, he took up maths.

When i came here, sent by the holy ghost, ah, i wasnt joking, god wanted me to suffer, Robin Hardy, Graham Rathbone, Graham Howell, John McDonnell, Jimmy White, how did i survive?

By good fortune, by seeing but not absorbing, by having my head in the clouds.

And now, life is this hard, United are third, and my teeth grind, my legs shake, surely this is not happening. Barry needs a stake in his heart, or even a steak. Surely someone somewhere has a silver bullet or is that another existence?

Another monster, there are so many. Barry will be laughing at me, my pain is undeniable, my sorrow overwhelming, job has nothing on this.

Where can i find succour? Is it in Jack Daniels, ? walking the by ways of the cam? losing myself with paid girls? Can United not get promoted? i hope so......help. Ill see if i can puncture some of their footballs.