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Pars fucked. Job done.

f**k the Pars.

f**k the Pars.

This would have been equally true pre-Covid, when we have had absolutely zero problems providing an audio stream at away games. f**k the Pars.

Yes, the Pars hate the blind. Horrendous discrimination. Expulsion from the league is the only proportionate sanction.

The Pars are shitebags and they should have gone bust in 2013.

It's not a live video stream your disgusting club was preventing. It's a live audio stream. We have provided a live audio stream as part of our subscription package for all games even before Covid. It's not in competition with video streams.

Nothing wrong with being a hypocrite and getting faux indignant while being delighted Max is muted.

Cuntbag behaviour from Dunfermline I see.

You’d die of tedium before you’d got me under the anaesthetic.

I see the competition for most lobotomisable Thistle fan is in full flow.

Delicious.

Delighted to ketchup with this news.

If you grass on Gary Caldwell, does that make you a good guy or a bad guy?

Yet another Ayr United fan endorsing racist tropes.

“We aren’t racist! Some of our players are black!”

Do you or do you not condemn the vile racism, casually endorsed by way of Retweet by your own Club’s Chairman? It’s a simple question. Yeah but the problem here is one of the idiots is your *Chairman* Retweeting racist language. We’ve found a racist Gammon everyone. Didn’t take long.

There we have it. Ayr’s indifference and blindness to racism among its rank and file. Shocking.

How do Ayr fans feel about their Chair retweeting racist language?

I think it's fair to say my accent is regionally non-specific Scottish. There are definitely influences from Fife, Aberdeen and Glasgow having grown up at different points in those parts, but none dominate and being #HopelesslyMiddleClass by Scottish standards moderates it somewhat. I'm also very conscious of being a shameless code switcher. Being in London makes me far more self-conscious about it.

BBC correspondent opened the piece saying that Bill Clinton had called a Pennsylvania jail his home for the last two years. Huw Edwards with an absolutely mortified correction statement at the end of the segment.

I really hope that everyone who’s struggling with this disease, whether directly or being around nearest and dearest with it, are getting the support they need. My own family has gone through a steady train of brain tumour pish in recent years (my mum’s dad died with one in summer 2017, my dad’s mum died with one in early 2018, and in late 2019 my dad got diagnosed with one). It turns people’s lives completely upside down, totally shattering plans and expectations and assumptions about the way your life is going to be. With dad its like he’s gone senile post op and radio/chemo and we know it’s just a matter of time. That’s obviously rubbish for him but it’s been horrendous for my mum, who had always counted on him being the one to look after her (with all her own health issues) in old age. I’m lucky enough to have them down here at the moment for a bit, and I’ll hopefully be up in August for my nephew’s baptism, but there is that dawning realisation that they gave him 18 months in March 2020, and that despite a relatively stable spell in late 2020 he’s close to borrowed time now. At times it feels like you’re doing the grieving long before he actually passes though, as all the things that gave him joy and all the things that were shared experiences in our father son relationship just become harder or impossible. Dad’s love was classic cars; he can’t drive. We would always banter with puns; he struggles to string a sentence together without using the wrong word. Right now we are watching the cricket and he saw Phil Tufnell and said “that’s that rugby player. Wait. No. Not rugby”. He knows he’s trapped in this cloud of fuzzy nonsense but he can’t quite fight out of it. He came into the study during the pandemic and once said that lunch was “the flat disc thingies” (meaning pizzas ). He would pass some time reading the newspaper early on in his treatment; he can’t now read much more competently than an 8 year old child. It’s the robbed time I resent. If I find a woman who’ll have me he’ll probably never meet her. If I have children he’ll never meet them. They’ll never get to know the sharp silly man we’ve all loved for decades. In many ways I’ve been so lucky to have him in my life throughout my childhood as a reliable and supportive influence. I really do feel for those who lose a parent in childhood. But even though I objectively have my life shit fairly together I still feel like I’ll be totally lost without him when he pops his clogs. What I’d give for just another, say, five years…

Cressida Dick is a b*****d.

(1) I met Terry Venables at Legoland Windsor (2) I met Peter Beardsley at Disneyland Paris (3) I met Alan Curbishley at Phantasialand in North Rhine-Westphalia

My mortgage broker recommended, given I have a decent sick pay policy with my work, that I should probably opt for some form of income protection with a deferred activation date. Aviva wanted to charge an insane additional premium literally because I'm a fat b*****d. So because it wasn't mandatory for my mortgage I told them to ram it. Depending on your job and how secure it is, of course, your mileage may vary.