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The Alternative Leigh Griffiths Blog...


St. Starko

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I genuinely can't believe how you're keeping the quality up, Barry. Each one is as good, if not better, than the last.

You're a god-damn, motherfucking genius, man.

Sames, I was worried that after Jocky's dismissal that there'd be a dip in quality, but this is fucking astonishing work.

Well done! :D

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'Straight oot o' Dundee! Crazy muthafucka named Jocky! See yir arm? No' as big as meh cock, eh? A pair o' braces, a leather belt, pull yir breeks up or yir gettin' fuckin telt! Straight oot o' Dundee."

:lol:

To put it simply, that's without doubt the funniest thing I've read on here.

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Enter our new assistant manager.

He came down the track riding a kiddie's tricycle. The players looked on in horror as he approached. He was wearing nothing but a bib, a nappy, and a hat with a little propeller on top of it. Jumping off the tricycle he bounded over towards us shouting, 'BILLY LIKE FUTBA! BILLY LIKES FUTBA!'. He was drooling profusely, and his tongue was lolling out his mouth like that of a frisky Border Collie who just fucked a sheep.

'Gentleman, this is Billy Dodds. He's your new assistant manager. This man can set up cones and markers like no-one you've ever met before. If he appears different from the popular sports pundit you all know and love, it's due to a bizarre mental defect that means he only snaps into what you consider to be normality when a camera or microphone is placed in front of him. The rest of the time he's a gentle idiot with the mental capacity of a pound of steak mince. Observe.'

Chisholm pulled out a microphone and pointed it at Dodds. Suddenly he changed and became perfectly coherent.

'Thanks Gordon. Lads, I'm Billy Dodds. You'll probably recognise me from the media. I've spent the whole season calling Dundee a bunch of p***ks, but you better believe my attitude changed the moment a wad of cash was waved under my nose. I'm now of the opinion that Dundee FC are a sleeping giant who deserve to be back where they belong in the top flight of the Scottish game. I'm a bit of a whore for the old moolah, but there you go.'

Chisholm put the mic behind his back, out of sight.

'BILLY LIKES FUTBA! BILLY SLEEPS WITH THE LIGHT ON 'CAUSE HE'S SCARED OF PAPA SHANGO!'

He started running around in circles singing Brown Girl in the Ring and being sick on himself. As we watched in awe for a few minutes he seemed to tire himself out. He burst into tears and started slapping himself hard in the face. Chisholm ushered him into the home team dugout, put a a blanket over him and put him to sleep. Training got underway.

This was the bit that set me going.

Brilliant work :lol:

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He spoke softly, and replied 'Jocky's fine, pal. Dinnae worry aboot Jocky. Awa' up the road now.'

I almost shed a tear here. Excellent work, Barry. I can't help but feel your characterisation of Billy Dodds is bang on - more biographical than satirical.

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I'm sat at work pissing myself. No' cuz of the blog, likes. I just like to piss myself.

Honestly though, I was ending myself there. Those in my immediate vicinity were concerned I was having some kind of seizure.

Billy's brilliant.

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