BFTD

Everyone plays twice for 30 games, then a split for another seven games each for 37 matches in total. Not saying it's my preferred choice, but that sounds do-able.

You could backfill fill three 18-team leagues with Highland & Lowland League sides, and then some, before Cowden would get a sniff. Thankfully there'd be no need to include reserve teams either.

You're not kidding. Why on Earth would you buy that many pairs of shoes? Carrie Bradshaw stuck them all in a cupboard, at least. Not that I'd know.

This is all The Sims 3000, and dark matter is the DLC locked away behind a paywall.

Neither, but we're doing addled experiences right now. I'd like to think it was his worst, though. I've never been that scared of anything, never mind a giant projection of Christian Bale's face.

Alternatively, there'll be a unity candidate who promises to leave the ECHR, bring back capital punishment for paedos and illegals, and dismantle the welfare state to reduce tax. They'll know that they probably won't manage it all, but the amount of votes they'll get will be terrifying, especially from groups that would be negatively affected. Maybe it'll be Nigel Farage, although he'll have to win an election where more than 20% of the electorate turn up first.

This is shameful. I'm putting on a South African accent if I ever need to go abroad again; it would be less embarrassing.

Glasgow Cineworld on Renfrew Street, Batman Begins when it was new out. Junkie in the front row, absolutely wasted, babbling away to himself happily. Nothing abnormal for that cinema (at the time, anyway). During the early prison scene, our hero suddenly starts screaming, "IT'S BATMAN! BATMAAAAAN!" as loud as he could, which causes the lassie at the other end of his row to jump up and bolt for the door. By the time she comes back with ushers (or whatever the staff are called now), he's degenerated into proper terror about whatever he's imagining on the screen, sliding down on his seat until he's almost on the floor. He didn't resist when the staff grabbed arms and legs and carried him out, still screaming. All over within a few minutes and didn't spoil the screening too much TBH. Good film; would recommend.

I was going to mention how P&B inevitable treats these things as a beauty pageant, and it never goes well I guess that solves the mystery of why we never went on holiday to Benidorm.

That's fucking terrifying. But I suppose that's the point.

Cowdenbeath gave it a good go. I think that might become more common than you'd think - traditionally lower-league part-timers going into free-fall after a spell in the second tier and dropping through the leagues. It doesn't look likely right now, but that's my nightmare about Alloa - all it takes is poor decisions (or a rapacious shyster) in the boardroom and everything can fall apart at literally any of the part-time clubs. Clyde have been hovering about the trapdoor for a while now; a traditionally top-tier club who were almost promoted there again twenty years ago, now struggling just to exist. No wonder they all went mad. Edit: it's proving to be virtual exile too - the experience so far is that if you don't make it back before the two-season parachute payments end, you ain't coming back at all.

That'll be why they do it, presumably. Got to get thae Kaffliks telt.

I think everyone was bewildered because it just meanders along and peters out. A fair amount of "what the f**k was that all about?" going on as people left. I liked it, but was similarly bemused. It was on subsequent watches that it really grew on me.

Had similar with The Big Lebowski, Man Bites Dog, and Taxi Driver. Even the folk who stayed didn't seem to have enjoyed them much, going by the chat on the way out. The latter two in particular seemed to upset or annoy a number of people.

That's the big list updated. I've tried to be as general as possible. Why exactly are the Warhammer lads upset? All their futuristic fascist stormtroopers wear bulky full-coverage Iron Man style armour anyway - they could all have tits, three cocks, and a symbiotic tumour called Kevin; nobody would ever know.

If this is true, we need to picket Westminster to have our passports revoked out of shame. Thinking about it, I've not had any Celtgers bosses either, although there's bound to be some at my current place as all you hear (or read on the lavvy walls) is the most cliched standard bigot brothers chat and they're probably well warned to keep their allegiance quiet to avoid the usual insane nastiness. I've had a couple of bosses from Norn Iron, neither of whom joined in any football chat, which I assumed was because they weren't interested but maybe they just knew better.

Much like Stranraer, I was sure Stenny had been one of the occasional one-season wonders in the second tier in the early Nineties before we went to four leagues, but apparently this was all a dream

5p in 1940 was worth about £2 today, if anyone cares. No wonder the auld dear pounced on it. That'd probably pay for half a glass of advocaat.

Stupid sexy Marilyn Manson.

I presume your old man wasn't there to say, "you're fooling no-one, mother"

Do you not still get your c**t kicked in here for attacking a polis? This was years ago, but my wife-beating neighbour across the landing tried it when his missus locked him out of the flat and Plod came to take him away for kicking the door in. He decided it would be smart to take a drunken swing at the arresting officer and his face had a brief, sudden meeting with the close wall. I'm not a fan of authoritarianism, so it's a real shame that I never saw that happen

Presumably you're talking about the thumb holding the book open

Yeah, that occurred to me. What a bunch of fucking deviants. The Americans also have their weird thing for cheerleaders. Dressing up like children for sexy fun times lol

I have a vague memory of my mum claiming not to know what c**t meant - it came up when we were watching a film where the word was used. She had a weird thing of tutting every time someone would swear, which I think Pulp Fiction cured her of, as she sounded like a metronome. She also asked me what Zed was doing to Marcellus Wallace during the gimp scene...which was almost as uncomfortable for me as it presumably was for Marcellus. I discovered she was a bullshit artist when I was 13 and her favourite uncle decided he could stop treating me like a child - every second word was either f**k or c**t, god bless him.

Your opinion is dreadful, but I'm stealing this for my dating profile.