Tis soon to be the moment of the snobs who incessantly talk about

[Fast Eddie :L:]

food in their 5 star hotels and restaurants who if, and IF they go to the Emirates, would only discuss the delicacies to purchase in the stadium during and after the game.

Time to man up and expose/get rid of these prawn-sandwich-munching bogus intellectual cockroaches

God bless The Arsenal :-|

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

I always forget. Your whining rings some sort of bell, but it's more of a tinkle than a clang.

I must say they served a very creditable filet de boeuf en croute in a box at Twickenham on Saturday. Paired with an eminently quaffable Haut Medoc it made for quite the splendid luncheon.

[Berni]

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

station. A gentleman in a high vis jacket intervened. :-(

[Berni]

At what time yesterday did you start to feel human?

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

Then it started raining. Then I was lost. I was a pathetic mess.

I don't feel human yet.

[Berni]

So it was you scragging someone at the railway station? Any idea why?

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

ensure him that I hadn't, but I was wet, cold, angry and drunk and took exception to his tone. And his calling me 'blud'.

He was amusingly shocked to find an old posh bloke launching himself at him :hehe:

[Berni]

initial shock, I'd say. You probably weren't at your most able, tbf.

I've just remembered how hard it rained on Saturday evening. Were you caught in that? :hehe: All the waxed jacket on earth wasn't going to save you there. :hehe:

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

Never again.

[Berni]

and raving at the Gods of fate whilst trudging the blasted heaths of South West London does tickle me rather.

[Sir Charlie of Nicholas]

v collected me from the station and listened to me ranting for hours, bless her.