Captain Turdseye

Yeah. Game over. He’ll be disappointed when he looks back at that.

Just. Fucking. Win.

Nice one. I’ll just get my missus to do it.

Mine ran out last month. Only noticed the other day. I’ll get around to it. Isn’t it something like £25 for a replacement? The only time I’ve ever been stopped by the plod is when leaving The Orient pub in Speke. I can understand why, to be fair. Po-Lice looking for easy pickings.

Fantastic puff piece here. One of the talking heads is some yappy little twat that once won American Idol. Endorsements don’t get much better than that. Make America Great Again.

That Brentford winner… Twats.

Froch on Fiiiightin’ is a must for boxing fans.

Belter tune though. Pisses all over Buffalo Springfield.

Great. National Tommy Robinson Day. Again. Can’t we go back to laughing at the yanks?

Oh, look at the news. Here we go again with the foreign interference nonce sense.

My safety is half decent. Potting a ball and controlling the cue ball from it is a totally different story. I have to give myself regular pep talks in the style of Happy Gilmore’s coach. “Tap it in. Just tap it in.”