IT’S FINALLY OVER!!  NO MORE FOOTBALL EXCEPT THE CHAMPIONS LEAGUE FINAL AND THE WOMEN’S WORLD CUP WHICH WE LOVE AND THE COPA AMERICA SO IN REALITY THERE’S SOME FOOTBALL BUT IT’S NOT REAL FOOTBALL!!  We asked our handsome and witty internet friends, us, to ask us some questions about the football that happened while we were busy manufacturing the comedy gold you’ve come to worship because we thought we should do a review because all the cool kids are doing them but we only do previews which are like reviews but before the view has been re’d so therefore p=x where x is when I lost my train of thought.

These are the questions that Brett thought best summed up how we could review the season with the most minimum effort required:

1. Favourite Baller of the whole term?

2. Favouritest ball in the net shot?

3. Favourite home shirt colour?

4. Best Phil Jones moment that actually resembled a real football manouevre?

5. Best thing you saw happen with your own two eyes that wasn’t just a thing you heard about on the internet and then talked about until you actually believed you’d witnessed it yourself?

6. Why were the Thundercats loose?

7. Match you hated least?

8. Who is this?

9. Best stolen tweet?

10. Best Sepp Blatter?

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 Benno (@Benglorious)

Are we writing answers here or under each question in different colours/with our avis, can we use videos and how do we add videos and why do we bother?

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 Tom (@tom_mcghee)

1. I have to say, the Best of the Beatles.

2. When Mata scored the goal that looked like his legs were scissors and it was against that team that didn’t make Champions League

3. Pantone 1664 TPX

4. [FOOTAGE NOT FOUND]

5. Avengers: Age of Ultron

6. They weren’t so much ‘loose’ as they were fleeing the total destruction of their home world, Thundera. Surviving in stasis thanks to the noble sacrifice of Jaga, who piloted the ship until death (and then went very Obi-Wan with Lion-O. Can’t believe LucasFilm let that slide to be honest), the Thundercats eventually arrived Third Earth and were then ‘loosened’ upon discovery that they were not only followed by old mutant enemies but also under threat from Mumm-Ra, the ever-living. Although that was misleading because it only seemed to work if he slept for like 5 days at a time and never really did much.

7. I enjoyed the little flurry of results where we beat Spurs, City and The Steven Gerrard Tribute team. So those.

8. I’ll never tell

9. Has to be Lucia’s. Damn that Scott fella for making me confess.

10. Sepp Blatter. Has to be.

Also, can we change my picture back? I look like Matt Lucas after the weight loss.

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    Brett (@bifurcated_utd)

1.  Paul.

2. The one where it was a kick and then it went in the side, and then we were all like “get in!”, and then it maybe wasn’t in, cos no-one was celebrating, and then we were all like “why is no-one celebrating?”, and then it wasn’t in and we were all like “Lol, I was sure that had gone in the net and not in the side!” and then after about some more minutes there was still someone who was all like “was it a goal or not?” and we were all like “shut up!” and they were all like “no” and then we were all like “yes”.

3. N/A I only like away shirt colours.

4. His name bit.

5. I didn’t see anything. The next thing I knew the jury was on fire.

6. Contrary to Tom’s theory on the origin of the term ‘loose’ with reference to the aforementioned Thundercats, it was in fact composer of the theme tune, Bernard Hoffer, who did something I haven’t made up as true. Thundercats creator Tobin Wolf was probably none too pleased when he heard it for the first time, but he probably grew to like it, eventually. He had it played at his wedding for the first dance with his wife – the cartoon actor who played Snarf irl, and at his funeral. Probably.

7. I just love all of them a lot.

8. Him.

9. @uptownbridal: Today we’re obsessing over Rachel & Doug!! The cake… the greenery… the stolen glances! #uptownbridal 

10. Angela Lansbury.

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 Benno (@Benglorious)

Oh.  I see what you’re doing.

1. Gotta be Roondog.  Captain supreme.  Led by example and that’s not Example the rapster whose real life name is EG, I’m talking about the good example.  BURN.  Roonface never missed a game even when he’d been knocked up by Gnarls Bardsley that time and then fell over on the grass.  Does that make him cray-zeh?

2. Charlie Adams’s’s’s’s’s’s’s goal against Chelsea was very good and I expressed this quite eloquently on the Twitter:

However, the correct answer is any goal scored against Liverpool by any player at any time in history.

3. I’m colourblind so I find this question extremely insensitive, as well as being impossible to answer.  Red.

4. He took a corner.  For Manchester United.  In a real match.  He wasn’t the only player on the pitch.  He took a corner.

5. I’m no grass.

6.  My scroll thing has stopped working and I can’t remember what the other questions were.

7. The Desert Rats.

8. Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

9. Deep midwicket.

10. The Hamburglar.

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 Tom (@tom_mcghee)

That was the season that was.  Pretty sure it had a 4 and an apostrophe in it somewhere.  We’d like to thank all three of you for reading our stuff week in, week out.  I’m only sorry that there’s not more games in a season so we could keep doing the same jokes even more.  Please direct all complaints to my personal twitter account which is linked above twice and is also right after this colon: @tom_mcghee I put it in italics because I clicked something and I don’t know how to change it back.  All compliments regarding anything should go to Brett: @bifurcated_utd because everything is his idea and he’s got that gun.  All the money should go to Benno: @Benglorious because he’s the comedic mastermind behind the very best of @bifurcated_MBM when we aren’t stealing jokes.  Just look at the amount of effort that went into this virus tweet:

Pure fire, I’m sure you’ll both agree.  Weren’t there three of you a minute ago?  Who is this?

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FIN

Written and directed by Brett A.

Additional writing by Tom Mc.

More additional writing by Benno L.

Art direction by Hieronymous B.

Catering by Burger K.

Post production by Photo S.

Casting by Plaster o’P.

Score and musical selection by Chuck D.

Soundtrack available on 3.5″ floppy disc from all good floppy disc retailers

No animals were harmed during this production because we don’t class people as animals

© MCHAMMER

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M8, you’ve got one of them green beetles on you..

Special Guest PNE Fan Hanna (@Hannamayj)

When I signed up for this (I didnt sign up for this, I was held against my will) I didn’t realise it would extend to banter at both ends so here’s a match review which may or may not include mostly fan fiction…

I arrived at Deepdale to the open arms of Archangel David Moyes; the spirit of Tom Finney ruffled my hair and opined his usual yet eerie “us Preston boys gon’ get those big-timers, kid”.

Princes Joe Garner, Kevin Davies and Tom Clarke led out the defenders of the North against those Red Devils in what would surely be a bloody and ruthless expulsion of the demons by the righteous and virtuous soldiers of the White army…

The chaste ser Simon Grayson had taken the measure of Lucifers left hand, the man they call Louis Vangle. His vanguard would ride down the devilish reds in a battle that would finally reinstate a world order where common sense and fair play would thrive!

Instead, the devil Vangle sent fourth a balding sprite and an exotic bird of paradise to confuse and misdirect the natural balance of the angelic whites.

A turncoat prince, a giant and a troll fought past the White army and while one virtuous blow met its mark the Red Devils, few though they were, damaged the defences of good in a triumph for all of greed and jealousy.

The troll used his evil powers to tempt and madden the last line of the Pure defence, using the moment to his advantage and foiling the righteous for the mere mortal souls they were folly enough to lay bare.

While the battle was lost, the whites left the battlefield triumphant! So long as key watchers insisted on defrauding the red troll and reporting unfair tactics the whites would leave content in the knowledge that their path towards salvation from the third tier of hell was now clear. ALL HAIL.

BACK TO REALITY

Ok so we miffed bout that balding twat but hey, wtf was Stuckmann doing right RIGHT!

Garner’s still gonna be knighted though.

Yeah you won. Shut up. Go home. I have wine.

RECAP

Yes we were singing about David Moyes.

Yes we were a match for you in the first 60 minutes.

Yes we think Falcao is a massive waste of money.

Yes you should start Ashley Young on a weekly basis.

Yes it’s cold at Deepdale.

Yes we ran out of pies… No we’re not proud of that.

ONE LAST THING

I can’t handle a 10th playoffs… PLEASE GOD OF FOOTBALL LET US GET THE SHITTY SOCK OUT OF LEAGUE ONE AND BACK INTO THE CHAMPIONSHIP THANK YOU PLEASE WITH LOVELY CHERRIES ON THE TOP! Here’s my pancakes as an offering.

Help us, Obi Wan Kenobi. You’re our only hope…

Brett (@bifurcated_mufc)

16 years ago I was stumbling from one party to the next. The same faceless faces – some of them familiar, for what that was worth. For what that actually meant back then. Faces I’d seen around, but didn’t have the time, the inclination, or the humility, to find out more about. It was a simpler time. A time of endless possibilities. A time without time.

There was one night – so many since lost, as memories tumble from my ageing, addled, tired mind as the sound they once created becomes a distant echo on a dystopian landscape – I will always recall; like it was only yesterday…

A couple, whose names escape me, were giving up their lives for each others and a celebration of the news had been maniacally arranged at the expense of other’s personal plans, so that we could all feel that little bit worse about ourselves in their presence. Another night when strangers were friends, and I was alone.

I never went to these things with the intention of observing: the attendees at the waxwork pantomime projecting outwards the charade that the reality that their real life occupied betrayed; but when you navigate the threat of conversation with such calculated precision, it’s all you have. Those that don’t know you’re watching don’t care; those that do, the same. I’d say I’d seen it all, but I know there has to be more. Because there has to be.

The male of our species without question, would throw away everything: his family, his children – for an unsatisfactory fumble with a relative stranger. And they do. Those that say otherwise, never see temptation.  And sure there’s the inevitable ontological anxiety the following morning, but not enough get what they’re due.  It’s only man who believes he’s bulletproof when holding a gun to is own head. Women could do worse than remove the safety catch.

On this particular night there’d been a few flashpoints; vignettes co-habitors would soon be going over in their heads in a day or two, on the spare futon around a friend’s house. Nothing of note. Nothing special. Nothing. And then.

When the last of the people making the most dutiful of appearances, have finished off their life story at the door, you get to see who’s really at a party. Three thirds of the time it’s wall to wall me. Like staring into a mirror bigger than the room. This time was different.

I was already on the furthest side of the room before I was conscious of standing up, such was the impulse; though the lactic acid was already flooding through my limbs. Beads of sweat tempted my tongue to my top lip. I leaned in towards her. She cupped her ear to my mouth… “Falcao is that tin of Quality Street at your nans that turns out to be full of sewing kits”.

To this day I still don’t know where it came from. Maverick thoughts.

Thought for the day: Theft is the highest form of flattery.