Howmanheyman

Just put Southampton v Stoke on. Fucking loads of empty seats the fickle bastards. Who do they think they are? Arsenal?

FFS, Leicester, man!

That's not so good.

On behalf of the people who've been on here a while I can only apologise for the lack of interest, inspiration or amusement. I for one will definitely be upping my game from now on. Welcome on board!!

Just switched on my usual stream and it's working ok. (Although it hasn't been as good lately which might just be the firestick?)

Like Villa and a couple of others it boils their piss when the magedia talk about us and ignore them I suppose?

They've a bee in their bonnet about us, quite a few of them for some reason?

"Hello dahlings, When I finish a film and just before I review it on mumsnet, I just have to have a warm, lovely cup of Mellow Birds. It's made from the finest Boldon coffee beans, none of your fancy Euro latte shite. Mellow Birds......For that fluffy brexit feeling."

Well why didn't you drink something else at the end? 'Had no latte, used mellow birds instead'.

Why didn't he just leave it? It was touching the sacred homeland. He should've just stood in awe looking down at the stars and stripes touching the land of the free with his hand across his heart and a tear in his eye. God bless America.

But for Hans Segers getting his palms greased they'd have been down in the 90's.

Life's what you make it, CT.

Anfield's a graveyard for us with the occasional draw in better times. If we won this game it we be almost akin to beating Dalglish's brilliant side in 1988. They definitely need to have an off day especially their lads up front if we're to have chance of anything.

Insane. Can't believe the amount of borderline insane cunts in that land. I wouldn't last more than a few weeks there.

What do @Meenzer and everyone else make of zis? Anything in it?

After finally hounding out all the females, (or murdering them), at his work, Wyki now turning his sights on 'young lads'. I wouldn't show him a birds nest as we used to say.

The secret diary of Lee Ryder aged 44 and a half 28/02/2018 "Lee. How did this happen? It's almost like '50 shades of grey' where you're the intrepid reporter trying to interview me and we just can't hold off each other. It's almost an animal attraction which I just can't explain." Amanda said. Fucking wow! Ah was known as the Ronny Gill Casanova for a good reason but even ah was punching above me weight here, like, not only was a getting a posh bit of lovely stuff dripping like a broken fridge but it was none other than the 'lass who would be Queen', Amanda fucking Staveley!!! Ah'd nipped up to the cathedral on the hill to try and get Rafa's or super skipper Jamaal's take on the Bournemouth roller coaster game when I bumped into our would be owner Amanda. "Hi! Amanda! It's Lee. Lee Ryder of the Chronicle. I'm the go-to man in these parts for getting your message to the punters." She said, "I've already had a chat with George Caulk..." Ah dived straight in just like ah did at Mcdonalds in Rotherham last year when some lippy teenager tried to get previous with iz in the queue. "Mands. Can ah call you that, flower? look, Caulkin's a nice kid but he doesn't have the same clout as yours truly with the Toon Army." Ah gave her the eye and a knowing look as being this close to her got me feeling fucking full of the Frankie Vaughan. The feeling was clearly mutual as she telt iz she wanted to go somewhere quiet for a tab and we could talk then. Ah fucking knew it! The Knight Ryder would be thrusting his flashing blade tonight the way things were going. We went into the car park in a quiet spot and Amanda gave me her 50 shades craic before getting close to me and running her hand up my thigh!! Ah looked into her eyes and was aboot to kiss her when she opened her mouth and licked my face! The kinky fucking bitch!! It must be true what they say about these posh sorts! She did it again and her tongue was fucking massive and ah couldn't believe just how bad her breath was. "Lee! Lee! Lee, Man! yer breakfasts ready son!" Ah opened me eyes and saw me Muthas dog, 'Peter Haddock' licking me face! Fuck! Me heed was busting and ah remembered ah'd went round to me ma's half pissed for me tea, had a few more drinks there and stopped in me old room as ah couldn't be arsed to walk home in the snow and cold. It was just a dream! This barren spell must've been playing tricks with me mind, ah'd been so engrus, ingross, err, too much into getting all the NUFC takeover info to me loyal punters that ah was neglecting the time honoured art of getting some sexual interflora with the hinnies of the Bigg Market! The sacrifices us award winning journalists make for the bloke in the street who are just desperate for their daily NUFC fix will never be truly known but ah divvent mind as ah love me fans as ah'm one mesel! lol! Anyways, ah had a full English then went hyem, had a shower, phoned the office and told Mark Douglas ah was snowed in before planning a night oot to get the Ryder love ink flowing with some lucky lady tonight! Laters, Diary! Lol!

I was in two minds to go in but had expected the main roads to be gritted so was a bit miffed when I realised they weren't and I was already in the car. There was a notice at work the other day about adverse weather and tips like 'leave earlier', 'de-ice your car' and other such amazing pearls of wisdom. My place are safety fanatics when it suits them but they never say stuff like, 'if it looks unsafe, stay at home'. Fuck that shit. It's like the their sick pay arrangements/criteria. Due to the nature of the job you have to stay away if you've been sick/had the shits for at least 48 hours afterwards. Go in and they find out you're in danger of the sack. Stay off as you're supposed to and if it happens three times in a rolling twelve month period and it's a slap on the wrist and you're off the sick pay scheme for six months. A load of workplaces will be all caring touchy/feely untill you actually don't go in.

Some real pygmies in politics today and somehow top posts are almost fucking mandatory for them it seems.

6 o'clock this morning and not a fucking road gritted anywhere including the coast road although I did see gritters heading in the opposite direction. (Mustn't fancy paying them nightshift allowance). 15mph all the way in our automatic with some daft cunt up my arse for about a mile near Heaton. Wasn't you, was it?

Monkey face? Now you say it, he does look a bit like a cartoon character from the 'mysterious cabal of Tyneside businessman', sorry, 'the mysterious cities of gold'.

Had relatives lived out in the countryside at Lisburn. One was in a car overturned by a roadside bomb.

Paul Ferris, once our physio, before that a kid trying to get into our 1st team has a book out ATM. It's been a fantastic read so far, very moving, insightful and a real window into the 'troubles' as Paul was a young Catholic boy living in Lisburn. Thoroughly recommended. It's called 'The boy on the shed'. Get on it.