| |
|
I feel a teeny tinge of regret there, for the whole name change and pic thing - not so much as I'd post a pic of Christian 'that bastard' Panucci, you understand but a smidgeon. An iota. Not really any, whatsoever. It was really the only thing that could cheer me up this week and notably the sun shone in Dundee for the first time today since before Luca Toni deftly struck past a sleepwalking Stephen McManus.
Embittered, gleeful schadenfreude took on new heights of self-parody today in the aerie as the boy and I proudly paraded all day in our knockoff souvenir red-and-white tablecloth tops from Dubrovnik and posed, laughing at England's demise (well, he was smiling and really only a pawn in these machinations; there's mileage there...), for a photo-op designed to antagonise specifically a single person. We're a small people, the Scots, some say, and I'd not be one to disappoint. |
|
|
