Writing your preview second usually means something has gone very, horribly wrong with the time/space continuum. That, or those pricks are just trying to show you up. Or you’re on holiday with very little free time to write what with all the sunbathing and drinking. The time/space continuum is probably the right answer. We’ll have to wait and saw what we will found out in the future.
Opposition Summary: City are from the city but so are United. It’s all very complicated and confusing and even the top top scientists can’t explain how it works and they’re really smart. City play in a blue shirt but not a nice, smart blue – it’s like a nice, smart blue that’s been washed too many times, possibly with bleach. Or, it used to be white and it got boil washed with a shirt that was a nice, smart blue.
Prediction: Brett’s loneliness to remain. United to smash their rivals just like they did Liverpool and West Brom. Then, they’ll have to wake up and go to the stadium and try and win real good at the football. Brett to die alone and no girls mourn him. Valencia with a goal, Herrera with the other two. Nobody remembers Brett. 0-0 United.
Writing your preview third means you don’t have to bother.
That aside, pretty good.
Prediction: Louis to announce adult-baby fetish in attempt to distract further from the huge amount of failure. It fails. This is all part of the process/philosophy.
Writing your preview first means that inevitably the other two will use yours as a reference point for their own a joke, so, I’m not going to leave myself vulnerable to those hyper-vultures by mentioning anything about my painful disadventurous attempts to find love in this cruel cruel cruel world; especially as this week I actually, finally, comprehensively, and actually, seemingly managed to convince someone that I had a modicum of worth, only to find that she is moving to the opposite end of the planet in two weeks (fast forward three weeks, to me seeing her in the street innit). And the other one who I was going out for dinner with the other week – who didn’t even make an excuse in the end, just didn’t turn up – has now actually, comprehensively, and finally, and actually, seemingly denied my very existence ever since (fast forward 10 minutes, to my ontological reassessment/break down innit). It’s almost as if they know exactly what they’re missing.
Anyway, not gonna go there and present them towels with a free shot at my heart tank. Jokes on them cos the shards of my heart that remain are so brittle and small they’ll have difficulty hitting them.
At least I have my beloved Vangle’s Army providing the joyous antidotal window to escape through.
Prediction: :'( 0-0 United.