Spooky Editorial

Posted on GG.net:

It seems there are countless of threads about the same topic, relating to the mess at the Lane, so I will simply add to it with my own by stating one word:


I've been preaching to you mugs for years, outside the ground on Bill Nic way with a megaphone, in disguise and talking in code language to avoid Levy’s minions from knowing my true goals. Sadly, very few - well actually nobody - cracked the code, which was disappointing. When I was preaching about God, it was obviously a reference to Hoddle.

And all those times that I've signaled to others in the Park Lane to burn their season tickets, you all responded with shouts that Levy has invested well and is a 'true fan' and has our best interests at heart.

Yeah, well, look at what the true fan has done.

This is akin to going out with a beautiful stunning woman. The sex is fantastic. Sure, she gets a headache now and again and the sessions in bed could be improved with her taking the initiative more and not sitting back waiting to get fucked. And sometimes her decision making is a little off-key. Would be nice if she swallowed rather than spat. But after two years of banging her, she’s in prime shape, and with the addition of a couple of expensive implants upfront she looks the business. But you want more. You don’t just want the ordinary. You want the goal all men strive for. You want her up both pipes. You want anal sex.

And she’s willing. She’s working towards it. You can almost smell the lube. But suddenly you get impatient. When is ‘soon’? What if she promises something that never materialises? Sticking a finger up there just isn’t enough, damn it!

Then next thing, you’re offering a hooker enough money to make her dizzy, just so that you can purposely dip your tie in the chocolate moose. The hooker turns you down, too busy with another client. But it’s too late. Your bird knows what you've done, and she’s heart broken.

There’s no chance of it now. You’ve lost her. And soon enough, with all trust gone, you’ll have to go back to speed-dating, while your ex has moved onto bigger and better things and is out getting fucked senseless up the arse without a condom.

And all you can think is: “It could have been me. I could have gone bareback like the pornos”

That's you Levy. You had the Brown Gold in your hands and you let it slip.

You make me sick. You and your blind idiotic followers.