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Ludo*1

New Premiership Kits 16/17

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ImageUploadedByPie & Bovril1463658976.325360.jpg

 

Excellent. Back to the days when we played in royal blue.

Edited by 7-2

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That St Johnstone 'benchmark' is fucking awful.

  

Yup. I'm inclined to disregard the poster's views on fashion entirely. Utterly horrid strip.

Now come on, that is an iconic, timeless classic. Even the manager was probably winning 'best dressed' awards all over Europe at that time going by the suave little number he is sporting in the picture.

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Now come on, that is an iconic, timeless classic. Even the manager was probably winning 'best dressed' awards all over Europe at that time going by the suave little number he is sporting in the picture.

I thought that was a minor member of the cast of Saturday Night Fever. My bad.

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  Now come on, that is an iconic, timeless classic. Even the manager was probably winning 'best dressed' awards all over Europe at that time going by the suave little number he is sporting in the picture.

 

It set the template for football suits that was ruined by Liverpool at Wembley. Suits have just never been the same since.

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I've had a long look at the new Morton kit, and it actually reminded me of an event that happened to me in my younger and more vulnerable years. 

 

I was fresh out of school and I was actually looking forward to entering the world of work, as university or college wasn't really my bag. I quickly got a job as a warehouse assistant, and it was a great experience with great lads that held me in good stead for my career changes in the following years. With my 3rd pay packet, I bought myself a yellow motor scooter to get me to and from work, it had the power of a hair drier but at the time it was the dogs bollocks in my eyes. 

 

With a little money, or what seemed like a lot at the time, in my pocket, my self confidence was never higher. There was this girl that I had been crazy about in school, but there was no way school politics/ status would have ever allowed us to be together. She wouldn't have wanted to be seen with me. 

 

A few months after I had started this job, there was an informal school reunion at one of the popular girl's house, so I thought I'd go along. If nothing else, I knew she would be there. 

 

As there always is as these events, there was a few drinks going around, and it only takes a few at that age for things to start getting out of hand. 

 

I, however, remained in control of my faculties and of my senses. In fact, I found that a few cans of Tennent's helped alleviate some of the self doubt I had experienced in school. I began chatting to this lass, who herself was refraining from drinking too heavily, and we really started to hit it off. She was eager to explain how great she was finding her drama course in college, and she seemed genuinely interested in how my job was going. 

 

We continued chatting on our own little corner of the sofa for the rest of the night, and the mention of my yellow scooter secured the deal for a date as I could drive us to the cinema. Our little get together was arranged for the following evening. 

 

The following morning, with only a small semblance of a hangover, I powered up the yellow hair drier and went and bought her a cute little helmet in pink from the bike shop. 

 

The day dragged on forever until it was finally time to go and pick her up. My heart was racing with a mixture of trepidation and excitement as I pulled up outside her house. 

 

I walked over to the front door, barely maintaining my balance as nerves began to take a hold of me. 

 

I knocked on the door, and I could see her silhouette emerge from the living room door. My stomach was full of butterflies, she had already taken my breath away.

 

When she opened the door I could see an instant smile form across her beautiful face and for that fleeting moment, I could say I was truly happy with my life. 

 

However, her heavenly smile had, in what seemed like half a second, turned to outright revulsion. 

 

Her cheeks puffed out as her mouth filled with vomit and she ran straight back into her house, slamming the front door behind her. 

 

How could I have been so foolish? What had I done? 

 

That morning, I had laid out my ironed shirt on my bed, ready to put straight on before I went to pick her up. 

 

I had a really bad habit when I was 16/17, where I would, instead of going to the toilet, pick a random item of clothing from my wardrobe and then proceed to shit on it, before smearing the shit into said item of clothing. I had shit onto a shirt earlier that day, and wore it by accident instead of my pre-prepared shirt laid out on my bed.

 

Of course, she had began to vomit in her own mouth because I had turned up to her front door, not only bearing the gift of a cute little helmet in pink for her to wear, but also adorning a shirt that was completely covered in shit. 

 

I never heard from her again.

 

That Morton shirt reminded me of that particular story. 

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I've had a long look at the new Morton kit, and it actually reminded me of an event that happened to me in my younger and more vulnerable years. 

 

I was fresh out of school and I was actually looking forward to entering the world of work, as university or college wasn't really my bag. I quickly got a job as a warehouse assistant, and it was a great experience with great lads that held me in good stead for my career changes in the following years. With my 3rd pay packet, I bought myself a yellow motor scooter to get me to and from work, it had the power of a hair drier but at the time it was the dogs bollocks in my eyes. 

 

With a little money, or what seemed like a lot at the time, in my pocket, my self confidence was never higher. There was this girl that I had been crazy about in school, but there was no way school politics/ status would have ever allowed us to be together. She wouldn't have wanted to be seen with me. 

 

A few months after I had started this job, there was an informal school reunion at one of the popular girl's house, so I thought I'd go along. If nothing else, I knew she would be there. 

 

As there always is as these events, there was a few drinks going around, and it only takes a few at that age for things to start getting out of hand. 

 

I, however, remained in control of my faculties and of my senses. In fact, I found that a few cans of Tennent's helped alleviate some of the self doubt I had experienced in school. I began chatting to this lass, who herself was refraining from drinking too heavily, and we really started to hit it off. She was eager to explain how great she was finding her drama course in college, and she seemed genuinely interested in how my job was going. 

 

We continued chatting on our own little corner of the sofa for the rest of the night, and the mention of my yellow scooter secured the deal for a date as I could drive us to the cinema. Our little get together was arranged for the following evening. 

 

The following morning, with only a small semblance of a hangover, I powered up the yellow hair drier and went and bought her a cute little helmet in pink from the bike shop. 

 

The day dragged on forever until it was finally time to go and pick her up. My heart was racing with a mixture of trepidation and excitement as I pulled up outside her house. 

 

I walked over to the front door, barely maintaining my balance as nerves began to take a hold of me. 

 

I knocked on the door, and I could see her silhouette emerge from the living room door. My stomach was full of butterflies, she had already taken my breath away.

 

When she opened the door I could see an instant smile form across her beautiful face and for that fleeting moment, I could say I was truly happy with my life. 

 

However, her heavenly smile had, in what seemed like half a second, turned to outright revulsion. 

 

Her cheeks puffed out as her mouth filled with vomit and she ran straight back into her house, slamming the front door behind her. 

 

How could I have been so foolish? What had I done? 

 

That morning, I had laid out my ironed shirt on my bed, ready to put straight on before I went to pick her up. 

 

I had a really bad habit when I was 16/17, where I would, instead of going to the toilet, pick a random item of clothing from my wardrobe and then proceed to shit on it, before smearing the shit into said item of clothing. I had shit onto a shirt earlier that day, and wore it by accident instead of my pre-prepared shirt laid out on my bed.

 

Of course, she had began to vomit in her own mouth because I had turned up to her front door, not only bearing the gift of a cute little helmet in pink for her to wear, but also adorning a shirt that was completely covered in shit. 

 

I never heard from her again.

 

That Morton shirt reminded me of that particular story. 

 

I like you  :lol:

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