Two matches, sucessive 0-1 defeats after outplaying our opponents. Two different reactions. Losing to the Scum was gutting, losing to Barca but still putting out the best team in the world completely different. The Scum should win the Premiership - they have the luck. We could easily have won three or four nil.
But now I am dreading the draw for the Champions League - I really want a foreign club, but it could be that 4 of the 7 are British (more realistically, forget Celtic).
Curiously Mrs Breadwinner is Barca for a few days trying to earn a shekel or two. Leaving me with the breadcrumbs and more work than I can manage. So, I'm not managing and mainly letting it wash over the top of me. Life is not helped by a kind of collective nervous breakdown by the family technology. Amongst the victims are the Purple People Carrier, the washing machine and at least one of the DVD players.
Don't get me started on the fucking Virgin/Sky debacle. Tonight I missed Battlestar Galactica for the first week. The fuckers are going to pay for that.
The short, sharp cut is healing nicely. Stitches out tomorrow.
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