Shotgun

Fuckityfuckityfuckfuckfuck

Up ye Ronaldo!

If a position ever opens up as "Face Puncher to Ronaldo", I'd like to apply.

This for me. I was 7 and was utterly obsessed with the whole thing. Bullying my Dad into only buying petrol from (I think) Texaco garages so I could collect the full set of the wee medallion thingies, the fascination of being able to watch footage from the other side of the world only a few seconds after it actually happened, the crackly commentary, everything. I had a yellow t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts and my Mum had to practically pull them off me so she could wash them every few days. I often wonder how many of us lads ended up with broken wrists and arms after throwing ourselves onto the playground in our attempts to replicate Banks' save. And while I'll admit to going full yer Da here; I think we've lost a lot of the charm now that we're all familiar with the most of the best players, as indeed are the players themselves. Back then the South Americans had a different style to the the Southern Europeans, which was in turn, different from the Northern Europeans. The entire tournament was an adventure. Golden days.

I used to work with a South African lass and she was utterly delightful. The 1/2 dozen or so blokes I’ve known have not been.

Well @Christophe, in the looks department, you're no Mrs Div but thanks for putting this together anyway. Can I bring myself to support a team with Ronaldo in it? We'll see.

43. Grimbo: Did he or did he not start the fundraiser?

Q19: How many times has the world been destroyed (at least)?

I feel like Harry Potter under sorting hat. “Not England…not England…not England…”

My best mate growing up was, and still is, sound as f**k. His sister however, is a screaming lunatic - permanently aggrieved over some perceived slight or other and carrying multi-year grudges over the most trivial of issues. His brother somehow managed to marry a woman even more psychotic and the pair of them are constantly at war. What's worse is they both expect the rest of the family to take sides whenever they have a falling out, and are incensed when that doesn't happen. In the 50+ years I've known them, I don't think there's been a single time when the whole family could be in a room without a riot.

I had a great uncle who fought in the trenches of WWI. He got angry every time a war film was on TV due to the way they glamourised war. "They don't have any idea what it was like." was one of his frequent refrains. He also had more than a few choice words for Field Marshall Haig. "Butcher" was one of the kinder ones. He refused to buy or wear a poppy due to his contempt for the man. I'm sure he too, would be disgusted at the spectacle it's become.

This guff popped up on my FB timeline this morning. Not directly poppy related but CL indicative of the same mentality. Aye, we don’t care enough to pay more taxes so you can receive healthcare for your PTSD. We don’t care enough to demand accountability from the politicians who lied to send you to war in the first place. But we care enough to like and share a picture on Facebook. You’re welcome.

You'll have to get over the pirhana filled moat first. Then past the dragons. I'm definitely getting dragons.

The jackpot for the multi-state lottery here is currently sitting at $825 million, which is £710,380,192.50 at time of typing and I have a ticket. Sadly, Mrs Shotgun already knows about it but even so, that should be enough to hire a decent professional hit man with quite a bit left over. Assuming I win, I'll throwing a big P&B bash somewhere in Scotland, probably next weekend.* Those of you who haven't been nice to me in the past aren't invited and should be reconsidering their life choices right now. * Subject to Falkirk not losing to Dunfermline.

Just sent mine. As I said on the 'Good Guys Boycott' thread, if by chance I win, I'll donate the money to an LBQT+ charity.