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https://bsky.app/profile/sarahkendzior.bsky.social/post/3lnos62rcs22r

Note; Just on the off chance the board goes down again, make sure you're on the discord! 😅

Half of them look like Ian Paisley. Fuck this, I'm out for my morning walk.

Makes you think though. I've just put on the telly and the BBC is back to back coverage of the pope's funeral. See Trump is there. I can't help thinking a small tactical nuclear weapon detonated in the Vatican cleaning the slate of these abusive pious hypocrites wouldn't be the worst thing. Makes you think.

How ironic that the cardinal doing the Pope's funeral looks like Ian Paisley.

I really liked Conclave but I'm a sucker for Tucci and Ralph Fiennes just talking to each other No titties but Isabella Rossalini dressed as a nun. You take what you can get Mickey 17. Really enjoyed it, thought Pattinson was superb, was funny, made you think, made some good political points, some subtle, some on the nose but never enough to get in the way of the story Sinners. Enjoyable enough, really enjoyed the first half where it was Oh Brother, where art thou. Spoiler (sort of) Though the second half where it turned into True Blood was fairly standard Good soundtrack though A Working Man Not the best Jason Sratham, not the worst though. I always enjoy the Stath doing his thing, and this was very much him doing his thing

Heading to big Franks funeral in Rome?

Ekitike has turned us down twice already so that ship has sailed. Lets not be like Gemmill trying to pick up that 18 year old in the Bigg Market on a night out, telling her his predictions she will head home with him for the night

Not sure how streaky he is but he’s got 14 goals and 5 assists in 29 appearances for Frankfurt this season. I’ve only seen him in a couple of games but he was the standout player on both occasions. Spurs are reportedly interested in him too and Transfermarkt reckons he’s worth €50m, so a little more expensive than Delap if they’re to be believed. The time to buy him was probably when he left psg

Conclave - Interminably boring shite. The only relief was that it was less than two hours long. Also, 0/10 on the titty front.

Demolition time. 7-0

I'll miss this is I'll be in the air on my way to Italy. But aye. Looking forward to it. Wish I was there, because with Eddie being back the place will be bouncing for him.

Social media really is cesspit of humanity

Also fuck the conspiracy idiots on social media responding "how convenient", as if she's been done away with by the deep state.

Looking forward to this one today. If Everton can somehow buck their relegation certainties label and take points off Chelsea, we could go into our game with eyes firmly on all but securing the prize.

Poor lass Poor kids Fuck the Rich fuck the Royals

Had this on on the way home tonight. The mix of Spanish guitar,tablas, and sitar somehow makes it sound to me North African, as if it was a soundtrack to some art movie set in the Moroccan deserts. Which reminded me of the music in the first bar I frequented in France way back in the early 90s, owned and run by a dodgy geezer called Kamil. Oh yes lads… it’s STORYTIME! So, my first trip out to France, after going round the Med putting up all the tents, I came back to my “home” site in Marseillan Plage to start my season job- somehow I’d ended up being recruited to the security team for the site. Great bunch of lads, easy job, loads of time off. Me and my mate Dave, ( imagine young Tim Cruise if he was 6’3”, built like a gorilla, and Welsh), were on an early evening patrol in a part of the site called the Annexe- it was basically the overflow part for the height of summer, this was early season so it was all empty caravans. We were basically having a crafty gag and unofficial break as there was no one ever there, but we had to do at least one patrol of it per shift. So, we were quite surprised to turn in to one of the rows and see a couple of French lads trying to break in to one of the caravans. They hadn’t seen us, so we came up behind and tackled them, got them in a wrist lock and they were fucked Neither Dave nor I could speak French at the time, so after them gibbering away outraged at our cheek, we used the international language and gave them a light slapping, escorted them down to the beach, another goodbye slap, and sent them on their way. We headed to the main gatehouse to report it our gaffer, Franc. Franc was mint- French lad, utterly unremarkable in appearance, but a lovely bloke who was always laughing and smiling. Also, ex Toulouse riot squad gendarme, so he was fucking nails. Just as we’d finished telling him the tale, and stopped laughing, a car screeched to a halt outside the gate and our two friends from earlier got out and started throwing threats our way, finishing with “ we’ll be back with friends”. Neither Franc, nor us, were particularly bothered by them, but just as a precaution he asked us to stick around at the gatehouse with him for a while, and also called up Jamie, another one of the team. This left “Basil”** on his own down at the main restaurant/bar/disco area, but it was early evening so no one was pissed enough to kick off yet. Sure enough, within the hour, four cars came screaming down the lane and pulled up at the entrance to the site. 4-5 lads in each, so there was 15-20 of them, all about 19-20yrs old. Still, we weren’t too worried as yet. During our training Franc had instilled in us what we could and couldn’t do legally in situations like this- essentially, as long as they were off site, we sat it out and called the police if necessary. If they came on-site however … So, we had this bunch of French fannies, giving it the big ‘un, shouting and bawling, but they weren’t setting foot over the boundary line, we just stood across the gate and laughed at them. When they’d pulled up the smell of weed from their cars was like Cheech and Chong, and they all had beers in their hands too. Could get messy, but their reactions were dulled and we weren’t too worried. Anyway, they started rushing the gate, trying to scare us, but the useless cunts were doing it like a martial arts film, one at a time- if they’d come at us all at once we’d have had our hands full, but they clearly weren’t the brightest. Inevitably, one of them came over the line, and Franc was in him like a fucking mountain lion, before he knew what had hit him he was face down in the dirt with his limbs being bent in ways that weren’t designed for. He was, again, mildly slapped and sent back to his idiot mates. Who decided their best course of action was to repeat exactly what he’d just done, with the same outcome, but this time the slapping was delivered in Welsh by Dave Cruise. Again, one more time for good luck, this time the dafty heard a sarcastic Geordie accent for probably the first and last time in his life. Franc had had enough, so he strode right up the whole lot of them, grabbed the biggest one, and shouted something at them in French, after which they got in their cars and fucked off, shouting a final threat as they left. We asked Franc what he’d said and it was “ Grow some balls or fuck off home” Theyd threatened to return with more lads, but, as we expected, didn’t. Next day we were sitting in Kamil’s having a beer and laughing about the previous night’s circus. Kamil, who looked the double of Mungo Jerry, without the ‘fro, was always smiling, laid back as fuck, but we knew he was also nails and ran the town. He came over, his usual happy self, asked us what happened, and Franc explained (in French) what had gone on. This lad Kamil’s face went from happy hippy to deathly chilling in an instant- he looked fucking furious. He told to stay at the cafe, went out to his car, alone, and disappeared. About an hour later, he came back, slightly ruffled, and with a fresh lump on one of his knuckles, bought us a round of drinks, and said to Franc “ They won’t be back”. We found out later that he’d gone to the next town up where the idiots we’re from, gone in to the cafe of his counterpart in that town, and battered the fuck out him, telling him to keep his idiots out of Kamil’s patch ** Basil was the oddball of our team- Scot’s lad with a blonde perm, utterly obsessed with James Bond, told everyone he was called Sean when he arrived, only for us to find out he was called Chris. We christened him Basil, short for Basildon Bond. He made out he was some ninja level deadly fighter, but in the few occasions we actually had to step in to anything, he was strangely the last to get involved, when it was already sorted. Anyway, Happy Saturday

Virginia Giuffre has killed herself. Sad story, three kids lose their mam. No doubt Prince Andrew still thinks he's the real victim in all of this.

Asha Rangappa on Bluesky can be relied on for sober legal analysis, and she thinks it stinks.

Must have snuck into the NUFC training complex in the Ashley era for that photo.

https://www.bbc.com/sport/football/articles/cy8q1l6v78lo Nothing new here from RM

And the other club turkeys who keep voting for Christmas.