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Posted
Plagiarism!!! but who copied who?

 

The Lawrensen crack made me laugh, regardless :-D

 

It originated on a QPR Forum, so they both copied that.

 

Personally the thing about Rooney scoring from over 20 yards automatically being awesome but any lower league goal not mattering was the bit I most related to.

Posted
It originated on a QPR Forum, so they both copied that.

 

Personally the thing about Rooney scoring from over 20 yards automatically being awesome but any lower league goal not mattering was the bit I most related to.

 

Difference being i made no claims to having made it up myself...

Posted
Difference being i made no claims to having made it up myself...

 

Indeed you did not.

 

I got it via email yesterday from a Spurs fan in Amsterdam, so I suspected immediately it might not be Saints-born... the bit slagging us off for existing was a clue.

Posted

Keanes thumbs down when we went down, if true, is the biggest reason of all for turning his Ipswich team over on Saturday and we need no greater incentive as supporters to make SMS as hostile and noisy as possible for him and his team. Has anyone got a pic or directly witnessed the thumbs down gesture vis our relgation??

Posted

Genius:

 

saintsaints wrote: Roy Keane is a turnip. Well, football is just properly gash these days. I mean really gash. Football generally. I hate nearly everything about it these days.... I hate the Prem and the myth that it is exciting this year. Man City breaking into the top four isn't exciting. They spent loads of money. It's no more exciting that some nameless turd getting to number 1 in the charts after winning the X-Factor. I hate the myth of Arsene's kids. Buying some French lad when he's 17, playing him in the League Cup and then selling him when he's 20 after about 3 league appearances is NOTHING SPECIAL. I hate hearing about Liverpool/Man Utd's debt but nothing ever happening about it. A club needs to go to the wall for the money thing to change but it doesn't happen. I hate Frank Lampard's stupid f'ing face. I hate that Joe Cole's tongue is never in his mouth, the downsy spacker. I hate John Terry being England captain when he's CLEARLY AN OAF. I hate the England team. I hate young exciting wingers who have nothing but pace. Tony Scully had nothing but pace. I hate the FA Cup. There may be little shocks every now and again but for the most part you know who's going to win it. Unless a team throws away all their financial security to win it a la Pompey. I hate Harry f'ing Redknapp. And Jamie Redknapp. And Louise Redknapp. And the Wii. I hate James Nesbitt, Eammon Holmes and f***ing everyone. I hate Gary Lineker and Alan Shearer. I hate Garth Crooks. I hate Garth Brooks for that matter. I hate that when a lower league player beats 10 players and chips the keeper it doesn't matter but if Rooney scores from more than 20 yards it's amazing. I hate that everything football related has to have 'Club Foot' by Kasabian playing behind it. I hate that female sports journos are now mandatory. I hate Mark Lawrensen for not coming out. 'I do like a big man at the back'. I bet you do. I hate any advert that portrays football to be about anything other than pain and disappointment. I hate any advert that mentions pies at football. I hate Lee Hughes and the fact that he makes a living from the game. I hate Marlon King and any team that signs him when he gets out. I hate that it'll probably be us. I hate Phil Brown. I hate 'well the ball is a lot lighter now and will cause goalkeepers real problems this summer' before EVERY F'ING TOURNAMENT. I hate that Kieron Dyer earned more in the time I took to write this post than I'll earn this month. I hate Adrian Durham, Ian Wright and Alan Brazil. I hate Gazza. Either die or shut up. Stop f'ing lingering. I hate hearing about Hillsborough more than I hear about Heysel or Bradford. I hate that a comeback from 3-0 down at half time means nothing because a team aren't f'ing scouse. I hate Leeds. I hate grown men wearing football shirts of their team whilst shopping on a Saturday when their team is playing at home. I hate that I don't hate Roy Hodgson. I hate Jermaine Beckford and any player who has neck tattoos. I hate songs being inappropriately taken as club anthems and then sung in a manly way. 'I'm forever blowing bubbles....'. Gaylords. I hate Danny Dyer and anyone he's ever interviewed. AND I HATE STEVE CLARIDGE! The tw*t.

Posted
Keanes thumbs down when we went down, if true, is the biggest reason of all for turning his Ipswich team over on Saturday and we need no greater incentive as supporters to make SMS as hostile and noisy as possible for him and his team. Has anyone got a pic or directly witnessed the thumbs down gesture vis our relgation??

 

Whats that? Roy Keane did a THUMBS DOWN gesture at Saints fans? What a sick individual? How is this man still allowed to work in football? Disgusting and sums up everything that is wrong with modern football and the world in general. At least he'll have to face "SMS as hostile and noisy as possible", I doubt he'll ever do the THUMBS DOWN gesture again!

Posted

Here's another footy rant. Not mine, absolutely not, and no idea where it originated, but makes me laugh every time.

 

"I'm feeling all angry about these modern day footballers, I know why they have gone all soft - it's because of poncy names. That's what it is. Remember in the old days, when footy players kicked a ****ing ball made out of ten pound of clay stitched inside a steel-reinforced leather shell with laces made out of piano wire? Well, in them days players could only survive the rigours of the game because they were called things like Albert, Arthur, Bert, Harry, Bill, Eddie, Bob, Jack and Tommy. ****ing tough names for tough men, them was.

 

and what do we have now? Gavin, Wayne, Dean, Ryan, Jamie, Robbie. ****ing tarts' names, they are. Great big ****ing puffs. No wonder the ball's like a ****ing balloon and shin pads is like slices of bread. In the old days you never saw a Len Shackleton or a Billy Wright

with a puffy little Sondico piece of paper down his little thin socks. ****ing shinpads in them days was made out of library books, and socks was like sackcloth. Same with the jerseys. ****ing shirts with holes in now so they can breathe. Yes, so that little Jody's hairless chest can breathe and he doesn't get a chill. **** off. Stanley Matthews used to dribble round Europe's finest wearing a ****ing tent and shorts cobbled together from the jacket of his de-mob suit.

 

Aye, he ****ing did. No wonder players fall over all the time whenever an opponent comes anywhere near them. And they never used to show their arses at one another either. Can you imagine what might have happened if Don Revie had flashed his ring at Nat Lofthouse during a City-Bolton Wanderers game? He'd have got one of them size-10 hobnail ****ers up his bastard chuff.

 

****ing therapy for stress my arse! Stan Collymore slaps his missus about and he takes

three seasons off with stress counselling. What the **** is that all about? In the old days it was expected for footballers to belt the old sow about a bit, specially after a bad defeat.

 

And the women used to expect it, and so they should have. They was lucky to be married to footballers. Ha! Trevor Morley got a kitchen knife in his back off his wife and was out of action for three month. Soft ****. Archie Mc****t of Port Vale got run over with horse and cart one Friday night and he still turned out against Bradford the following day. And he scored two goals. That's cos his name wasn't "Trevor". Good old Archie. Broke his hip, both his legs, murdered his wife and buried her under the patio and still made the England team for the Home Internationals. Did he have any "stress counselling"? Did he ********! And drugs?

There was none of that in the old days. Oh, no. In them days it was a quick shot of morphine

before kick-off and you was lucky if you got that. By half-time it had all but wore off so they pumped you full of laudanum. None of this cocaine sniffing and shooting up class A narcotics. I know. Me dad told me.

 

Goal celebrations? Don't talk to me about goal celebrations. Crawling on the floor and thrusting their hips at the crowd. Huh! I'd like to have seen Cliff Bastin do that after a run down the left flank and crossing for Alex James to fire home a winner. Handshakes...and

that was all you got. That and a **** in the showers afterwards. But it was a proper ****...all man stuff. None of these puffy ****s between blokes that you get nowadays

with players like Greame Le Saux and Stephen Gerrard. Allegedly. In them days, there was nowt wrong with it cos it didn't mean nowt. They used to say there was a "gay atmosphere" in the dressing room after the match. But it didn't mean owt mucky. Just a bit of harmless spanking the plank among healthy young sportsmen. Aye. I know. Me dad told me.

 

Sixty grand a ****ing week! Ha! I wouldn't pay 'em tuppence. Two bob Tommy Lawton used

to get...a month! And Tom Finney still worked as a plumber four days a week when he was playing for England. It's true, you know. ****ing is. Players had to work them days just to make up their money. Not like today. Stan Pearson had to clean sewers and doubled up as Old Trafford ****house cleaner. He had to go off during one game because some **** had built a log cabin and blocked the U-bend. And that Eddie Hapgood was a male model... though he never liked to talk about it. So I say we start calling kids real male names again. If you're having a kid, don't even consider puffy names and ****e names like what people call their kids these days. Otherwise what we gonna get in twenty years' time? The England team full of players called Keanu, Ronan, Ashley and ****ing Chesney. **** that! Call your

kids Alf, Herbert, Len, Frank, Fred and Wilf. And let's get the puffs out of the game

once and for all.

 

I thank you."

Posted

dont care whwt this parasite says, the day he ended halands career he should never ever been aloud near a footy club again, a nasty bit of work that i hope saints batter out of sight tomorrow, rant over

uts

Posted

lol....no he certainly wont do that nasty thumbs down thing again the utter cad. We'll show him that kind of bounderish nonsense wont be tolerated again at sms. The utter impertinence of the man. Confound it, we are a family club as well. I've a good mind to write to my MP or worse, black ball him from my club.

 

Having said that there was no need to take the P out of us being billy big club about it. Would love us, really love us, to smash his ipswich and let him have a big thumbs down from each saints player that scores a goal....just run to keane and give him thumbs down guys....would be a dream goal celebration and whoever did would get instant saints icon status... if they all get in the centre circle together with a big thumbs down better still.... lol...

Posted

I took more notice of what Roy Keane had to say about us rather than the posted comment.

A lot of managers often comment how they "Have a job to do", "Get a result", "Concentrate on our own game" without making a decent comment about the team they are playing.

To hear the compliments from Roy Keane about us is really pleasing and not something I would have expected from him. Mainly I suppose because of his response to us when Man Utd sent us down and all the comments I hear and have read about him hating us since that day and to be honest I suppose he's not quite as bad as I actually thought he was...

 

...But as a player and because of his actions on the day we were relegated from the Premier League I still think he is a C*** though. ;)

Posted
dont care whwt this parasite says, the day he ended halands career he should never ever been aloud near a footy club again, a nasty bit of work that i hope saints batter out of sight tomorrow, rant over

uts

Keane did notend Alf-Inge Haaland's career though? Keanes tackle injured Haalands right knee. He retired due to injury to his left knee (according to wikipedia - which must be true) ;-)
Posted
Here's another footy rant. Not mine, absolutely not, and no idea where it originated, but makes me laugh every time.

 

"I'm feeling all angry about these modern day footballers, I know why they have gone all soft - it's because of poncy names. That's what it is. Remember in the old days, when footy players kicked a ****ing ball made out of ten pound of clay stitched inside a steel-reinforced leather shell with laces made out of piano wire? Well, in them days players could only survive the rigours of the game because they were called things like Albert, Arthur, Bert, Harry, Bill, Eddie, Bob, Jack and Tommy. ****ing tough names for tough men, them was.

 

and what do we have now? Gavin, Wayne, Dean, Ryan, Jamie, Robbie. ****ing tarts' names, they are. Great big ****ing puffs. No wonder the ball's like a ****ing balloon and shin pads is like slices of bread. In the old days you never saw a Len Shackleton or a Billy Wright

with a puffy little Sondico piece of paper down his little thin socks. ****ing shinpads in them days was made out of library books, and socks was like sackcloth. Same with the jerseys. ****ing shirts with holes in now so they can breathe. Yes, so that little Jody's hairless chest can breathe and he doesn't get a chill. **** off. Stanley Matthews used to dribble round Europe's finest wearing a ****ing tent and shorts cobbled together from the jacket of his de-mob suit.

 

Aye, he ****ing did. No wonder players fall over all the time whenever an opponent comes anywhere near them. And they never used to show their arses at one another either. Can you imagine what might have happened if Don Revie had flashed his ring at Nat Lofthouse during a City-Bolton Wanderers game? He'd have got one of them size-10 hobnail ****ers up his bastard chuff.

 

****ing therapy for stress my arse! Stan Collymore slaps his missus about and he takes

three seasons off with stress counselling. What the **** is that all about? In the old days it was expected for footballers to belt the old sow about a bit, specially after a bad defeat.

 

And the women used to expect it, and so they should have. They was lucky to be married to footballers. Ha! Trevor Morley got a kitchen knife in his back off his wife and was out of action for three month. Soft ****. Archie Mc****t of Port Vale got run over with horse and cart one Friday night and he still turned out against Bradford the following day. And he scored two goals. That's cos his name wasn't "Trevor". Good old Archie. Broke his hip, both his legs, murdered his wife and buried her under the patio and still made the England team for the Home Internationals. Did he have any "stress counselling"? Did he ********! And drugs?

There was none of that in the old days. Oh, no. In them days it was a quick shot of morphine

before kick-off and you was lucky if you got that. By half-time it had all but wore off so they pumped you full of laudanum. None of this cocaine sniffing and shooting up class A narcotics. I know. Me dad told me.

 

Goal celebrations? Don't talk to me about goal celebrations. Crawling on the floor and thrusting their hips at the crowd. Huh! I'd like to have seen Cliff Bastin do that after a run down the left flank and crossing for Alex James to fire home a winner. Handshakes...and

that was all you got. That and a **** in the showers afterwards. But it was a proper ****...all man stuff. None of these puffy ****s between blokes that you get nowadays

with players like Greame Le Saux and Stephen Gerrard. Allegedly. In them days, there was nowt wrong with it cos it didn't mean nowt. They used to say there was a "gay atmosphere" in the dressing room after the match. But it didn't mean owt mucky. Just a bit of harmless spanking the plank among healthy young sportsmen. Aye. I know. Me dad told me.

 

Sixty grand a ****ing week! Ha! I wouldn't pay 'em tuppence. Two bob Tommy Lawton used

to get...a month! And Tom Finney still worked as a plumber four days a week when he was playing for England. It's true, you know. ****ing is. Players had to work them days just to make up their money. Not like today. Stan Pearson had to clean sewers and doubled up as Old Trafford ****house cleaner. He had to go off during one game because some **** had built a log cabin and blocked the U-bend. And that Eddie Hapgood was a male model... though he never liked to talk about it. So I say we start calling kids real male names again. If you're having a kid, don't even consider puffy names and ****e names like what people call their kids these days. Otherwise what we gonna get in twenty years' time? The England team full of players called Keanu, Ronan, Ashley and ****ing Chesney. **** that! Call your

kids Alf, Herbert, Len, Frank, Fred and Wilf. And let's get the puffs out of the game

once and for all.

 

I thank you."

 

fuh king crease up!

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