Just back from lunch watching the first half of Villa versus Newcastle at my local. (Joey Barton is a dirty…) I live dahn Sarf now so there were about five people apart from me interested in the Midlands against the North-East dotted around the fairly large TV room.
In walks a big black Senegalese bloke I’ve never seen before, sits down next to me with his sandwich, and, without so much as a mention of the (glorious) weather, launches into a conversation about skin colour.
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Must be the gay trousers…
You are right about Barton.
Sounds like you missed all the fun in the second half!
Yeah, I did. I listened to most of the rest on the radio at home while I was working, but still managed to miss goals. Villa scored their third when I nipped outside to empty the bin.
It could have been worse, he could have started talking about house prices.
Or skin colour and house prices.
I’m currently a pale piggy pinkish hue.
Winter and that.
Winter.
And that.