Míle buíochas and three Irish girls in a cowshed

Firstly a vote of thanks to those who voted for me in the Football Blogging Awards.

The voting closed this morning.

I am summoned down the Word Mines for the rest of the week.

Consequently, comments won’t be moderated until my return.

While I am gone enjoy the Murtdown at Sevco if that’s the thing you’re into.

However, spare a thought for the chap chewing his zip.

He’s a decent guy who has stumbled into the wrong movie.

He isn’t a blood wader or a Famine Song defender.

In other words, he is a decent human being deserving of some compassion.

In my absence please beware of low flying Quintessentially British Squirrels.

 

In fact, I had expected one before now to deflect from what Sunday really meant for the customer base of Espanyol Glasgow.

It might still appear.

However, any reasoned read of this situation is that no amount of spinning can alter the narrative on this utter clusterfuck.

However, given that their target audience rarely spend their days considering the main metaphors in Philip Roth novels then a high-Level mission might still work.

So to paraphrase Benjamin Franklin:

Never trust a man who buys his ink in barrels.

If you don’t believe that then consider this nonsense from January:

You can read it here in full.

Warning Daily Radar content.

Of course, the disciplinary issues with the Moderator of the Quintessentially British WhatsApp Group and the Lawnmower Man hasn’t helped any spin strategy.

I have heard unconfirmed reports that “World Class Breakfast” is now off the menu at Murray Park.

However, if you’re not one of The People then life is good.

To underline that fact have a look at these trí chailíní in a cow shed.

It really is what you make of it.

Have a great one.

Discover Phil’s dramatic play Rebellion