United fans laughing at our draw is like laughing at the couple over the road who you overheard have a little quarrel, fighting about the shopping
As you, United, sit in your front room in your string vest and McTominay themed boxer shorts, empty Pot Noodles about, the place is a tip, cracks in the walls. It's a mansion, and it looks glorious outside, but the debt on it is killing you, like someone sitting on your chest as you sleep you strangle and struggle to breathe, and with the logic of a drowning man make pitiful, small decisions... Lurching for your glory days.
Flashing a diamond ring at Christine Ronaldson, she's the one who got away, but she's BACK and she's siphoning your remaining funds, she's tapped into the plastic and she's moisturising more than ever, and you tell yourself, you tell yourself it's just like the old days, it's as good as it was before, your landlord Ole is doing a fine job on this magnificent home, except all the pictures on the walls are gathering dust and all the cutlery needs replaced..
But haha, lmao @ the Scousers over the road. Trouble in paradise? Mr Man United laughs himself to sleep, thinking he is on top again, yes, and cackles the hollow laugh of the doomed.
