Just got in from a day of mundane interactions with entities of unknown motivations. Luckily I have this schizophrenic love nest to snuggle down with. I’ll put my one good testicle on us grinding out the points by two goals this evening. Sue from Londis reckons we’ll win the CL, but she irons her hair and feeds revels to a colony of squirrels that live on her balcony so she’s not a reliable source.
Better win this fecker. After the Man City fiasco and petticoat control declaring we're eating out with family...I've pulled rank.
Feck Emmerdale, and any other crap she wishes to watch. I've politely informed her that dinner will be taken by myself, in the comfort of a comfy chair, positioned directly in front of the main television, a television that will be showing Spurs v Brighton.