It’s been a strange week at Bifurcated Towers. Lots have questions have been raised after we’ve had to deal with the fallout from that tweet from the last game in Preston: Is there a Quality Street in Wales? Is there any way to find out? Why do radiators and sinks need earthing? If vegetable oil comes from vegetables, where does baby oil come from? Aren’t all gifts “free”? Why don’t we ever make any money? I guess we’ll never know the answer to any of these questions.
Swansea are hosting United today. If we don’t lose to them, we’ll have only lost one game in the last four hundred and will only be one hundred and sixteen points behind the leaders of the Premiership League, Chelsea. All to play for, I think you’ll agree.
Dangermen in the Swansea team to look out for are Michu, who is worth the equivalent of one Michu; Garry Monk, the inventor of rhyming slang, and; Catherine Zeta Jones.
Prediction: Vangle will stop messing around this week. Four at the back with a midfield sapphire and one strikeman up front on his own for the whole match but with another strikeman playing alongside him at all times. The starting eleven will make very interesting reading, and will, in this humble previewer’s humble opinion, consist of the exact following players:
This combination will prove too much for the brave Swans who will suffer the biggest home defeat in their entire history. 1-0 Swansea.
Young Patrick was only too happy to talk to me as I pulled the staples out of his head one sunny afternoon. His favourite things include cream cakes, seismology and the collected works of Charlaine Harris:
Completely done nothing – Benno, please just put MIA (black ops Da Nang) ta babes xx
Exactly how many games are there in a season anyway? It’s pretty shoddy that no-one’s keeping a record imo. It feels like all my precious time is taken up borrowing your* jokes to write one of these. Where’s my me time? I’ve got things to do: sleeping till midday doesn’t do itself. Eating. I’ve got to eat.** And … put the recycling out on a Tuesday night.
*yours not theirs.
**I had a paxo stuffing sandwich last night: Pre-heat oven to 7. Add hot tap water to paxo. Pour mix into whatever you can find that can go in the oven. After it smells like burning, remove from oven. Place between two slices of bread. Serve. Add tomato sauce to season.***
***Idea: ‘Bifurcatered’ spin off cookery series. Phil Collins, playing the part of me, goes round football fan’s houses, while they’re out watching the match, and makes sandwiches with their stuff.
In life people say you never get a second chance. Idiots. But for the point I’m making let’s say they’re right … so that’s why football is better than life; cos football has second legs and rebounds and retaken penalties and that. Imagine if you could replay that time, when you were eleven years old, and your mum dressed you up as a cheerleader at school, and you won the fancy dress competition, and then you were talking to the girl you really fancied for ages, and then you realised she didn’t realise you were actually a boy dressed up as a girl, and you were devastated. And resented your mum for the rest of your life. For example.
Replays … cheerleader… thought I was a girl … resent mum … ah yes … so this our second chance of the season to prove we are gooder than Swansea, after the delightful comic timing of a beating they gave us on Vangle’s wedding day.
Prediction: She’d still think I was a girl. 2-3 United.