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Harry Squatter
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Guest PaddyBerger15
What was that definition of hypocrite again? You could do with refreshing your memory. I wouldn't want to be the victim of Patrick Bateman's wrath, that would suck.

 

Hypocrite...a thumb nail sketch for you....someone in a smug, safe little clique who has imagined territory and doesn't like it when he sees other people forming what he considers to be little cliques, criticising them for it, yet persisting in the self same behaviour....that OK for you, broheim?

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Hold on a sec... have we ever even interacted before on the forum?

 

Like soooo long ago doooode.

 

You were a bullying, smart arse coward then as well.

 

Funnily enough, I started at the same time as Rob, so there's two people who'd look out for a chance to ruffle your proto-ironic fringe.

 

Just fucking sick of it, Chris. I grew up loving classic rock, sports, film, literature etc etc all in a very working class environment but you stamp your feet, spit your dummy, see your arse and get all insecure whenever someone shares that it just wasn't you who did.

 

Fuck right off. Shitbag!

 

 

Awesome.

 

 

 

Dude.

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Chris is the grumpy old bastard of the Liverpoolway. He thinks he owns the joint, and doesn't care for new people invading. He's the old bloke who used to come out and tell you to "Get down your own end" with your footy when you were a kid, despite the fact that you lived next door but one. But didn't you feel a bit sad when you heard years later that the old git had died of stomach cancer? You suddenly felt a bit sorry for him, and wondered what had happened in his life to make him so bitter.

 

Just ignore him and carry on playing with your mates Rob.

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Guest PaddyBerger15
Hold on a sec... have we ever even interacted before on the forum?

 

Well, you've made a cunt of yourself with that many people, I imagine it must be difficult to keep track of all the names by now.

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Ooooh, get you, Lady Muck of Cowshit Farm all of a sudden. Let the living internet leg have his say Liz, as his opinion isn't a matter of supreme indifference to me at all. Once he's finished being amusing, and having a pop at the nasty new interlopers invading his imagined territory, he will fuck off and annoy someone else.

 

You're wrong. Utterly wrong. There are hundreds of new members who have brought untold benefits to this forum, have been really funny, and have ended up becoming close friends of mine in a short space of time. It's just you. Just you. I'm not the only one who thinks this way, far from it.

 

And really, could you be any more obvious with your attempted internet dating there?

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Like soooo long ago doooode.

 

You were a bullying, smart arse coward then as well.

 

Funnily enough, I started at the same time as Rob, so there's two people who'd look out for a chance to ruffle your proto-ironic fringe.

 

Just fucking sick of it, Chris. I grew up loving classic rock, sports, film, literature etc etc all in a very working class environment but you stamp your feet, spit your dummy, see your arse and get all insecure whenever someone shares that it just wasn't you who did.

 

Fuck right off. Shitbag!

 

 

Awesome.

 

 

 

Dude.

 

I'm sorry, man. But I don't even know who you are and can't remember ever posting to you before.

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Chris is the grumpy old bastard of the Liverpoolway. He thinks he owns the joint, and doesn't care for new people invading. He's the old bloke who used to come out and tell you to "Get down your own end" with your footy when you were a kid, despite the fact that you lived next door but one. But didn't you feel a bit sad when you heard years later that the old git had died of stomach cancer? You suddenly felt a bit sorry for him, and wondered what had happened in his life to make him so bitter.

 

Just ignore him and carry on playing with your mates Rob.

 

I'm sorry I don't fall at your feet like the rest of this forum. Maybe I should try harder.

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Guest PaddyBerger15
Chris is the grumpy old bastard of the Liverpoolway. He thinks he owns the joint, and doesn't care for new people invading. He's the old bloke who used to come out and tell you to "Get down your own end" with your footy when you were a kid, despite the fact that you lived next door but one. But didn't you feel a bit sad when you heard years later that the old git had died of stomach cancer? You suddenly felt a bit sorry for him, and wondered what had happened in his life to make him so bitter.

 

Just ignore him and carry on playing with your mates Rob.

 

Aye, to be honest Liz, to me, he's just one of those things in life that you have to put up with, like the shits and a cough...he creates minor irritability now and again, invades your space without invitation, but ultimately the effect is minimal and it soon goes away and is soon forgotten about.

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Guest PaddyBerger15
You're wrong. Utterly wrong. There are hundreds of new members who have brought untold benefits to this forum, have been really funny, and have ended up becoming close friends of mine in a short space of time. It's just you. Just you. I'm not the only one who thinks this way, far from it.

 

And really, could you be any more obvious with your attempted internet dating there?

 

Now it really is a shame that you and your friends feel that way about me, as I said to you previously, recognition from you and your little band would have done like soooooooooooo much for my status on here dude.

Oh dear, the first and last recourse of the feeble minded..."you're only sticking up for her and talk to her because you fancy her"....you fucking maggot dicked, pointless little fuckbag.

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Now it really is a shame that you and your friends feel that way about me, as I said to you previously, recognition from you and your little band would have done like soooooooooooo much for my status on here dude.

Oh dear, the first and last recourse of the feeble minded..."you're only sticking up for her and talk to her because you fancy her"....you fucking maggot dicked, pointless little fuckbag.

 

Look at you, all angry on a Saturday afternoon and everthing...

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Ok, my favourite one night stand story. Co Authored by Mr Usher and myself. Taken from our trip to Barca/Madrid for the CL game in 2002 article from TLW.

 

Thu 14 Mar: Back to the Nou Camp for more souvenirs, and at this point I was thinking I may need to buy another suitcase just to fit all the memorabilia in. Then it was back to Madrid, and another seven hour train journey. It was the nicest day of the week, and we were stuck on a train all day. The trains are way more comfortable than they are over here, but even so I found it impossible to get any sleep. After checking back into the hotel it was back out to the Irish bar we'd been going to each night. As it was our last night we planned to make it a long one. A few pints of lager, and a couple of pints of Vodka & Red Bull later, and it's fair to say that I was hammered. Alan was just as bad, Graham was probably worse, but unlike last year my dad seemed to be relatively sober. Smithy had stopped drinking earlier as he'd managed to pull the Brazilian waitress who'd been serving us, and he was obviously concerned about hampering his performance! He'd talked her into coming back to the hotel with him, which meant that me and Graham would have to bunk in with Alan and my old man. Didn't bother me, but Graham was none too thrilled with the idea, as Smithy would later find out to his cost. Anyway, the waitress didn't finish until around 4.a.m. so me and Alan told Smithy we'd wait with him.

 

Graham and my dad had long since gone back to the hotel, with Graham under strict instructions to leave our room vacant for Smithy and his Brazilian beauty. We wait outside for about half an hour, and eventually she comes out. Me and Alan don't want to get in the way so, being slightly under the influence, we decide to go for a wander around Madrid to see the sights, as you do! At this point I'll let Smithy pick up the story.....

 

Being the horn dog that I am, I was determined to score while in Spain, it would be one for the scrapbook so to speak. After the long train journey back to Madrid with no sleep, combined with a few vicious pints of Vodka and Red Bull, my bottle had well and truly returned. The aforementioned 'Brazilian Beauty' welcomed us as we arrived as she had recognised us from earlier in the week, and although she was stunning I was more concerned with her gorgeous Swedish colleague who served our meal. That was until I saw Zinedine Zidane's double putting his hands all over her. “If ZZ is on the case what chance does an English Muppet like me have” I thought, so I moved on to plan B, more specifically the lovely Rozana - who I once again turned my attentions to. Through some vintage chatting up, I had managed to convince her that my hotel room was a good place to spend the remainder of the night. So to pick up the story where Dave left off……..

 

I left Dave and Alan wandering around town, and arrived back at our Hotel with Rozana on my arm. I asked the receptionist for the key to room 449 assuming Graham had done the decent thing and vacated it for our sole use. Now given Graham's totally inebriated state and the fact that he was none to happy with the prospect of being turfed out of his room it was no surprise that the key for room 449 was gone. Well perhaps Eddie (who fair do's knew the score) had gone in with Graham and vacated his room for me, I thought, so I confidently asked for room 446 and was given the key.

 

As I was pretty eager to get my love on at this stage I didn't take too good a look at the contents of the room upon arrival. Just as I was about to boldly go, I heard the phone ring and naturally assumed it was Dave and Alan asking me for a key. "Alright Dave" I said, but the voice I heard in reply wasn't exactly what I was expecting; "WHO ARE YOU? VOT ARE YOU DOING IN OUR ROOM? ZIS IS NOT YOUR ROOM" replied the irate German on the other end of the phone. "STAY ZER! I'M GOING TO GET ZE MANAGER!" I looked around the room and to my horror realised that there was no way on earth that the contents of this room belonged to Eddie or Alan - who were rooming together.... "shit, get dressed quick!", I yelled at poor Rozana who was scared out of her wits, and barely spoke enough English to get the jist of what I was saying.

 

As we just about finished getting dressed, this fierce looking fella - who looked like he had been thrown out of the third Reich for being too sadistic - came charging into the room, pushing me around like he was a member of the Rome riot squad and asking me what the fuck was going on. While trying to hold on to my own temper I tried to explain that it was an honest and innocent mistake, but he was having none of it as he rummaged through his bags, thinking I'd been in his room either to steal his valuables or simply use it to get laid. Strangely no matter how many times I apologised he kept using the same line over and over again "I AM NOT SATISFIED" (a line which provided us much amusement for the remainder of the trip). I could have sworn he was going to smack me until the hotel manager and the second, more rational German came around the corner, and thankfully we were able to resolve the situation between us. The other German even shook my hand and wished me well for the remainder of the trip. I left with my tail between my legs (only just though, I thought he was gonna cut it off!) and my libido seriously affected. Turns out that the reason I recognised 446 was because we stayed there Monday and Tuesday…..easy mistake to make, I was only one number out!

 

As for Rozana she began to yell at me and kick me and stuff, I tried to apologise and calm her down a little. Some more of the patented Smith charm and she was fine. I left her for a little while to go with the manager to get the key for room FOUR HUNDERED AND FORTY FIVE. When we arrived at the lift it had strangely stopped just below us and was emanating fits of laughter from two pissed up Liverpudlians! Over to you gaffer……

 

 

After wandering around the streets of Madrid for about half an hour, we eventually got bored and headed back to the hotel. We're in the lift going up to our room when the bastard thing gets stuck. The doors open and we are greeted by a brick wall! Under normal circumstances I may have gotten as bit claustrophobic, but in our drunken state both me and Alan found it quite funny. As we pondered our next move, we were interrupted by some inane Spanish rambling "eth eth eth eth liftio, stuckio" or words to that effect! Help at last! There was a tiny gap at eye level, and when we looked through it we could just see this little pair of feet. "Ey mate, we're stuck in the lift" I called out. "Dave, is that you?" I looked through the gap again and saw a further pair of feet, the unmistakable canoe-like size 13's of the Boy Smith. "Yeah, it’s me" I reply.

 

"You’ll never guess what's just happened to me" he says, and then starts going on about angry Germans, an irate Brazilian bird, a confused hotel manager and God knows what else. Me and Alan are looking at each other in bewilderment whilst he is waffling on about his troubles, until eventually I have to interrupt him: : "Chris, I appreciate your situation and all that, BUT WE'RE STUCK IN A FUCKING LIFT!!!!" At this point me and Alan are laughing so much we can barerly breath, until eventually we get the lift moving again and make our way back to our room to wake Graham up. I'm banging on the door for a good five minutes, whilst Smithy is off trying to pacify his angry Latino chick, and Alan has just gone walkabout! Eventually a confused looking Graham answers the door, and I tell him what's happened and how he has to come with me to the other room so Smithy can have our room.

 

I then go off looking for Alan, and find him wandering around the corridors still laughing his nuts off. Apparently he'd bumped into the Germans and they'd had a go at him too: "Vie are you laughing? Vot is so funny? It is not funny, stop laughing" I guess it's easy to see where the stereotype of Germans not having a sense of humour comes from! Needless to say this just made him almost piss himself there and then in the corridor. After much persuading, Graham finally gives up his bed and comes with us to the other room. He takes Alan's bed, and me and Al share the spare bed. After laughing solidly for about an hour, eventually we go to sleep. Considering I had Alan's sweaty feet in my face for most of the night, I slept surprisingly well, and felt great the next morning.

 

Fri 15 Mar: All week it had been me who was the last one out of bed, and I had been finding it a real struggle to get up so early, yet after only about three hours sleep I was fine and up at 8 o'clock. Smithy is also up and about after sending Miss Rio De Janeiro on her merry way, and he takes a bit of a ribbing for his previous nights antics. The wittiest put down had to be Alan's "you should have known it was the Germans room by the towels laid out on the beds!"

 

Then it's time to check out, and there's a pleasant surprise as Alan's missing bag shows up at reception. It wasn't stolen after all, it was just a cock up by the airport. He's happy, but my joy is short lived as I discover my Mr Kipling French Fancies are squashed to hell. God knows where the bag had been, but at least it was there now. Our flight wasn't until the afternoon, so we had just enough time to go back to the Bernabeu for yet more souvenirs. This time I plumped for a Real centenary home shirt with Guti #14 on the back. The only one who didn't get any souvenirs at all was my old man, who repeatedly stated that he doesn't understand why anyone would want to wear the colours of any team other than Liverpool. As ridiculous as I find this way of thinking, it was nonetheless very difficult to explain to him why it is acceptable to wear other teams colours (as long as it isn't another English club of course). "It just is, ok?" was the best I could come up with. No wonder I never made the school debate team!

 

The taxi to the airport from the hotel costs 16 euro's, conclusive proof that we'd been stung the first time. The flight home is fairly uneventful, other than Smithy falling asleep and Alan and myself placing ice cubes on his crotch in the hope that when they melt he'll wake up and think he's pissed himself. Sadly, he wakes up before they melt and is none too thrilled with us. I blame Alan, he blames me, but Smithy doesn't seem to care who's responsible, swearing revenge against us both! The next away trip should prove to be interesting then!

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I'm sorry I don't fall at your feet like the rest of this forum. Maybe I should try harder.

 

Chris, the reason I get on with people on here is because I'm generally nice to others, like to have a laugh and do honestly give a shit if someone's got a problem. Apart from the odd suggestive comment, which is very rare now, nobody "falls at my feet" and I like to think I'm treated no different to anyone else.

 

I talk to, and see, plenty of people off here in real life and there's nothing dubious about it whatsoever. It annoys me that you and your mates think that anyone who gives the time of day is trying to get into me. It's insulting.

 

I wasn't having a pop at you. You make me laugh often, and you write some really good stuff. But you are a grumpy bastard. You try hard to be a grumpy bastard. That's obvious for all to see, especially as everyone comments on what a top bloke you are in real life.

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Guest PaddyBerger15
You're wrong. Utterly wrong. There are hundreds of new members who have brought untold benefits to this forum, have been really funny, and have ended up becoming close friends of mine in a short space of time. It's just you. Just you. I'm not the only one who thinks this way, far from it.

 

OK then Chris, while we are laying cards on the table, as you aren't the only who has a problem with my behaviour on this site...'far from it' in your words, maybe you can either name names or those involved can speak to me about it privately, I'd be more than happy to take advice and accept it...there a goodly few people I would take lectures from on this site about conducting myself in a proper manner, but you most certainly aren't one of those people.

I'm trading no further insults, if you or anybody else has something constructive to say then I'll listen....can't say fairer than that can I? In the meantime, if you stopped responding to posts of mine in a blatantly antagonistic way and tried ignoring me, then the site would be better for both of us and everybody else...would it not?

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I'd like to build the world a home

And furnish it with love

Grow apple trees and honey bees and snow-white turtle doves

I'd like to teach the world to sing

In perfect harmony

I'd like to hold it in my arms and keep it company

I'd like to see the world for once

All standing hand in hand

And hear them echo through the hills "Ah, peace throughout the land"

(That's the song I hear)

I'd like to teach the world to sing (that the world sings today)

In perfect harmony

I'd like to teach the world to sing

In perfect harmony

I'd like to build the world a home

And furnish it with love

Grow apple trees and honey bees and snow-white turtle doves

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I thought Mr 88 was fairly new too but it seems he's been around quite a while.

 

Ive only really started posting regularly in the last year, now ive got loads of time on my hands. TLW will be the reason when i fail my first year at university. Thanks lads

 

edit.

 

sorry, and lasses!

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Ive only really started posting regularly in the last year, now ive got loads of time on my hands. TLW will be the reason when i fail my first year at university. Thanks lads

 

edit.

 

sorry, and lasses!

 

Surely any employer will see that the communication skills that you utilise on this forum are far more valuable than mere qualifications?

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Surely any employer will see that the communication skills that you utilise on this forum are far more valuable than mere qualifications?

 

Clunge monkey.

Thundercunt.

Biff.

Meff.

Cunt.

Whopper.

Beaut.

 

 

How to improve your vocabulary, The Liverpool Way.

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