Of course the good thing is that by the time we play in the CL again, Ronaldo, Messi and Robben will have retired, so we might not get so very gubbed.
Happy days.
Good.
We don't need the money and the CL is a waste of everyone's time until there are changes in the club, anyway.
More importantly, what did the wee chap at LRK serve you?
The bread. THE BREAD! Snails with the balrey miso. Asparagus with stuff. Something esle, can't remember. Then a prok chop. My word. A pork chop from a 18 month old beast, aged like beef, cooked over charcoal. Absolutely stunning. Some hazelnut nonsense for dessert. Couple of bottle of Gevrey-Chambertin, for which he raped me firmly in the bottom. (£120 a bottle! Thief.)
Anyway, it was a truly terrific meal and I thoroughly enjoyed speaking to chef/owner James as he presented each dish and explained the full family history of each item on the plate, the autistic wánker.
I made Lancashire hotpot the next day. It was much nicer.