Happy Friday, Spursland! Hate you Arsenal. I hate you more than those times on hot summer days where you are hungover and stuck outside walking towards your destination and any chance for a drink is still 3 blocks away. I hate you more than I hate people who demand to know why my girlfriend and I aren't engaged yet, 30 seconds after being introduced to me. I hate you more than I hate pop country. I hate you more than I hate more than I hate the one women who told me I looked like Benny Hill.
And now the "news"
I may be mistaken, the delightful Britishisms sometimes throw my small American mind. But I believe we are talking about practice. But it's OK. Bale can be rusty and out of shape when he arrives and struggles early in Madrid. That will go over well.
But I like wins. Does he bring with him wins? I don't care about step overs except when they are tracked as part of a stepovers-to-goals ratio.
Is Harry kidding? Oh that sound we are hearing is Harry scraping the bottom of the barrel.
This will either make you think the writer is stupid, or this will bring those doubts you've had on the fringes of your cobweb covered mind into the direct sunlight.
It's official, working crazy deals for Spurs has just gotten boring for Levy and he branched out.
This is a class of pranks that I hate. I have them because they aren't that good and a large amount of people (who probably still try to convince their friends that creed was"pretty good") love them. The kind of pranks that take you so much longer to set up than it takes the other person to clean up or it's an hour of set up and coordination and the payoff is lame. Examples include the cups of water around the bed "Gag". Or the Wrapping paper/tinfoil over everything in the room. Those are pranks for people who are to afraid of doing something moderately mean to a friend, which is all a prank is.