Good Evening viewers. This one ought place you neatly in the same bracket as the man who went to Dr with a steering wheel protruding from his zipper. The reader who nails the identity of the blurred legend wins a hardback copy of ‘Being Gazza’. Nobody claimed the prizes from either of the previous competitions, by the way. So a copy of The Boys From White Lane is sitting here waiting to go as are the title deeds to Tower Bridge. Answers to [email protected]… If you want the answer just look at 61 The Double – HERE – and if…
Author: Harry Hotspur
Good evening. I anticipate some duplication in comments on this one. So if you find your ‘that is sooo photoshopped!!!!’ getting lost in the old mixer, be assured I read it, I noticed and I cared. My response was either 1. I know or 2. I don’t know. And thanks to Nicktheyid by the way for being kind enough to bring said snap to our attention :daumen:
It’s not easy. Krankie was a player I immediately took to. One reason was every time he got the ball he went forward with it. Am I easily pleased? Hardly. Intent is a serious thing. People get sent to prison for it. And Niko’s intent was invariably to attack. I’ve just noticed I’m talking in the past tense. As we’ve discussed before this morning, Arry has his favourites. He’s a bit like Bill Murray in ‘Hope & Glory’- if he’s your friend then you’ll never want for a better friend. If he’s not your friend then your life becomes a…
Evenin’. Yes I too was promised more than wot was delivered. No, I’m not talking about that knackered blonde pensioner currently trying to pass herself off as a unforgettable Cut Price Ukrainian Nymphet home massage service in the Chelmsford area. No. I’m talking ’bout Direct Line. But the similarities are indeed harrowing. A big HI!to Chris Portrey there in Customer Feckwittedness. Mde De Hotspur & I now wish we’d bought breakdown cover from Fred & Rose West. Anyway …here’s a platinum plated opportunity to win. Have you been a loser in life so far? Let me redeem you, brother. Sister,…
One issue that raised it’s nit laden, dandruff encrusted head yesterday was that of support. Specifically those who were ‘true’ fans, those who were ‘real fans’. There is a certain type of individual that always unsolicited feels the need to make such distinctions. This type of individual usually has something missing in their own life. Usually oxygen. Sadly they’ve just enough to keep them in a drifting half existence, but not quite enough to allow the sticky toffee pudding like matter they refer to as their ‘brain’ to function at an anyway near an efficient level. Let’s not get into…
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If turnips were swords, I’d wear one by my side. If ifs and ands were pots and pans, there’d be no need for tinkers’ hands. Anyone looking for something more sophisticated to kick than next door’s cat only has to dwell upon all the points dropped thrown hurled over arm bowled away in games against clubs who now litter the lower half of the table. Now we can move on (some of us by the scruff of the neck) from the rosary bead clutching that dogged yesterday’s blog perhaps it’s time to assess…
Good evening viewers. I’ll be blunt. This doesn’t look good. All the stats, form guides and tea leaf data available suggest our visit to Second Hand Fridge indicates us getting a thumping one could only call comprehensive. Yet again I am beginning to gently seethe over us ‘suddenly’ finding ourselves having to approach every game now with fingers crossed, lucky rabbits feet clutched etc etc. Which inevitably leads to one of the following conclusions. So is it Tottingham are too stupid to genuinely advance or is it that they simply aren’t good enough? Trying to label an entire club as…
Good afternoon listeners. Today’s foray into the often light, occasionally dark world of caption competitions comes courtesy of THFC’s official Twitter account Twit Pics. Today’s prize is Tower Bridge. Surely there cannot be a swankier way of negotiating the River Thames than this prize. It’s prime piece of history which comes complete with a certificate of ownership, some keys and a branded lanyard plus ‘Bridge Owner’ ID card. The winner of the last caption competition was a Mr B Oddie of Hamstead.
Evening. Eighty three percent of sixteen women who took part in a recent survey said a hard man was good to find. No it was sixteen percent of eighty three year old women found it good when… no, hang on. 83% of you said that provided Mr Sulkypants lives next door that you would take Dimitar Berbatov back. I am not here to judge. I am but a humble vessel. And I voted the same way too. So I’m worse than complicit. I started it. Well I didn’t really. You know what I mean. My point is what does this…