Remember the good times when we won games? Me neither.
Prediction: Revenge taken on West Ham’s bus when we lock all the doors and throw it in the canal. Somehow we still lose. 0 – 0 United.
I fell asleep on the sofa and forgot about doing words sorry guys and I’m still there and the computer is not and moving doesn’t really seem to be an option rn.
Prediction: No words.
Suck on your disappointment fuckos!! The Bif Boys are heading out on the town to celebrate Paul’s *insert age later when confirmed by Paul’s mum, somewhere near your age. What? 21? Again?! Oh, you! Hard to tell with Paul what with that face* birthday!
We’ll be so far gone by 5:30pm that we won’t even know what West Ham is*
*check what West Ham is.
Prediction: Maybe I’ll turn my phone on and off as the screen must have frozen as I have not heard anything from P, or T, or Benno. Oh. Wait! Oh, just mum. Fuck off mum. Oh. Wait! Oh, just my alarm reminding me it’s Paul’s birthday. Oh. Wait! Oh, just Tom sending me pictures of his birthday last week with everyone there apart from me. 0 – 0 United.