If the penguin-hipped bastard canât be arsed to come down from Liverpool on Wednesday nights to play for the Old Blokes (and one Bird), then he can star star star star off.
I got a message from bletch along the lines of Iâm old, hungover and unable to do this two nights on the run.
Frankly, Iâm disgusted. Hair of the dog would have sorted the hangover sharpish. What the fuck were they teaching kids in Gosport during the junior bletch era?
I was taught how to load an AK47, how to deal heroin and how Coco Chanelâs little black dress is ephemeral when compared to the humble pair of tracksuit bottoms.
I was also taught not to drink with hobbitses when hungover.
So I had an early night and a cocoa and this is why (see Saturday) âŚ
Donât fret it, bletch. Went down to my local with an old school pal and mum made us curry afterward. Happy days.
I am also well aware that by posting this screenshot, youâre essentially saying âhey ladies, check out party animal bletch. I go to bed really late after a seshâ.
Yeah, well thatâs not really any good if youâre broken for months afterwards, is it? Will sir be recovered for the next home games?
I think Bletch will have a lot of bribing to do if he wants to ensure that his âsleep-loggingâ software doesnât get mentioned too much further afield. A word in the bossâ husbandâs ear (purely hypothetically of course) and heâll soon find himself subjected to the kind of ridicule that would break the strongest of men.
Weâll name our price on Wednesday night, Bletch. Just be sure to have the readies ready, if you get my drift.
KRG being the free thinking, anti authoritarian, screw the system kind of guy he is, sees the following and thinks, âfuck thatâ
Therefore, following an uncharacteristically decent performance down the 6-a-side tonight fancied some Celebratory beers. Which led to mad dashes for the last train. And inevitably, a hungover day at my desk tomorrow.
