Sounds like she spun you a few auld yarns.
Iāve just asked the gaffer did she remember it, and she says sheās fairly sure that I said your wans name was Karen, so I presume it must be Karen bardsley. She was 32 at the time, I do remember that, which would fit. I presumed she must have retired. Iāve not seen her about since.
So youāve an ould Merc or Porsche convertible that you put away for the winter
You donāt remember that classic from the Flatty Files?
Nope, drawing a blank
A squirrel robbed the last key. Honestly. And it took a year to get another.
I canāt find it myself now, maybe Iām wrong. Something about a classic Merc that he paid for on spec and was waiting an eternity for?
Ah that. The squirrel was more recent the cunt
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An update to my refereeing career. I got a text on Tuesday from a lad I think the world of, asking would I ref a ladies championship match. It was a fine evening, and Iād do anything for him, so I said I would. I duly turned up, to my dismay, to see the same team togged out that had given such an unpleasant experience last time.
āJaysus, I said to him, you never told me it was themā
āthats cos I know you wouldnāt have done itā he replied with a grin.
There was nothing for it but to proceed, so I called the two captains in for the toss, and informed them, and the managers, that I wasnāt having a repeat of the last time (which was 90% one team), and that Iād give straight yellows for any abuse, and if it continued Iād just fuck off home.
The match proceeded and if I hadnāt been so on edge, Iād have enjoyed it. Decent standard, the more aggressive team in every way won it well, but were clearly older and hardened. They had one really good player, who didnāt say a word all game, but the usual main offender was niggling away from the start.
It finished about 2-10 to 0-2, but the beaten side kept going and gave a heartening display.
Bizarrely at the end, I asked for the ball back, which had the name of the beaten side written all over it. Little miss niggle for some weird reason wouldnāt give it back before she slowly read the other clubs name a few times, with her finger under the words, as if insinuating I was a thief and a liar. I was merely bemused.
Anyhow, one of the senior menās players from the beaten club came up for a chat afterwards, opining that ladies football was very hard to ref, and he didnāt know why I did it.
I explained that it was a favour, that it was a fine evening, and that the football was a high standard and I ref mainly because I enjoy watching it.
He replied that I took a bit of abuse.
I agreed, and said I wouldnāt have refereed that shower in the winning side had I known it was them, and that they were hateful, and told him I should have simply gone home half way through the last game, and that they took all the enjoyment out of it.
āgo easyā he replied āmy wifeās on that teamā.
I had a little internal smile on the way home, imagining their chat in the car.
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Sheās the image of her father.
A friend of mine the weekend reckoned that there is a recession coming very soon as the whole leaving cert holiday thingy in booming again .
Thereās a recession on the way alright.
Always is I suppose .
thereās no need for caddies anymore. Get a laser yardage thing or a gps watch and carry your own bag, lazy cunts
And who would McIlroy sack if he didnāt have a caddie?
his nutritionist? His sports psychologist? His logistics man? His Personal Trainer? His Swing coach? His Putting coach? His social media manager? His accountant? His style advisor? His Golf club manufacturerā¦
these cunts do nothing for themselves
I like that you left the club manufacturer to last 
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Heās such a useless cunt I bet he wouldnāt sack any of them by himself, heād get an aul PA to text them
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