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...actually, I don't care.
Yesterday, for those who are football oriented, was the FA Cup final day, and me, being the exiled south-londoner that I am, had no option but to support Millwall. Luckily, I'm a Millwall fan anyway, but that seems like an irrelevence because seemingly all non-Man U fans wanted us to win. So what happened? Well, we lost. Some might say we lost because of Dave (a Man U fan who, surprisingly, is originally from Manchester) and his magic egg which cost him 39p from somewhere on Great Western Road.
However, upon reading the BBC message boards a while ago, it seems like the whole world were against us! On the one hand, we were portrayed as the violent scummie bastards that the News of the World think we are, and on the other hand we were barracked for not playing attractive football! Well, excuse us for not trying Mr. Prawn Sandwich Neutral, but I hardly think you're going to ring up your local painter-decorator and demand a replica painting of the Last Supper. As for violence, there was... none. No violence. A Millwall match without a fight! Come off it. No way. Millwall? You're having a laugh! No violence. 8 arrests at the game, and all for ticket touting. You'd have thought the world at large would be happy with England's promlem club having not even a NEGLIGABLE amount of trouble, but a ZERO amount. Nope. From the posts on the BBC boards, seems like the readers were going to accept nothing short of World War 3.
We can't win, can we?
So there I was with a few folk (I interject here to say "Christ, she's nice" as a rather nice looking lady goes through the law books opposite) at Bar Oz (a rather unconvincing Aussie theme bar - like Walkabout, but worse) when a guy comes outside asking "Who here's Paul?", Paul being my flatmate from last year. "I am" came the reply of the self-confessed bearded walrus. Heated argument followed, turns out Paul nearly headbutted this girl 6 months ago, and this guy was here brother. Along comes girl, and joins in with the shouting. "You're a fucking psycho mate, you know that?" came the abuse at Paul. He didn't reply, though the fact that she decided to disturb a nice quiet drink in a beer garden backed up by heavies made me think that she was decidedly cuckoo in her head as well.
So, here concludes another eventful day in the life of William F. Millinship, the F as we all know stands for Fantastic Freddie. Yes. Now, as I am in the library, I shall take this unique opportunity to write some of my dissertation and read some books. Possibly borrow some too. Who knows?
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There was a blast yesterday at a plastics factory up the road. Seven people dead, many injured. Does it really deserve such an insensitive subject line? You tell me. Funny thing is, I got a few messages/calls from mates and family in London (and elsewhere) asking if I were ok, and by all accounts, some of the news reports I read made it seem like the whole of Glasgow had been wiped out with a nuke. As things stand, I was fine, and nowhere near the place in question, though my old halls are relatively near McGround-Zero. Like Furrysnake, I sometimes shop at the Lidl opposite, and I don't know why, but its clear to me that all tradegy reports should involve at least one story about Lidl. What caused the blast? We don't know. They say it may have been a canister of gas exploding. Either way, too many things on Maryhill Road seem to be going up in flames. It's time to ban fire.
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