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Petty Things That Get On Your Nerves...


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Just heard that my mates 5 year old son has a brain tumour :(

That's shit. Sorry to hear that mate :(

I feel sick to the pit of my stomach just now :(

I fully expect to feel like that at the same time tomorrow :(

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My PTTGOYN is myself.

I'm absolutely terrified about tomorrow. I've never been as nervous of anything in my fucking life, not getting married, the birth of my boy, nothing at all.

And that annoys me - why am I so fucking nervous? It defies logic. It's only a fucking fitba' match. :angry:

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And that annoys me - why am I so fucking nervous? It defies logic. It's only a fucking fitba' match. :angry:

Everyone tries to tell themself that, but the uncertainty of football and the inability to play a direct part make it infurtiating and nerve wracking.

The instantaneous joy felt todat was better than losing my virginity, having sex, and I dare say better than getting married or having a child.

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My PTTGOYN is myself.

I'm absolutely terrified about tomorrow. I've never been as nervous of anything in my fucking life, not getting married, the birth of my boy, nothing at all.

And that annoys me - why am I so fucking nervous? It defies logic. It's only a fucking fitba' match. :angry:

Two years ago, I felt exactly the same going into the exact same stadium after the exact same first leg result against the exact same team.

It'll all pan oot big yin.

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People who have impromptu meetings in corridors and doorways and seem oblivious to the fact they are getting in the fucking way.

People who are constantly clearing their throats.

Groups of people who take up the whole pavement and walk as slowly as possible.

Umbrellas. I fucking hate those things. Buy a jacket with a hood for f**k sake!

Edited by NorthernLights
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People who have impromptu meetings in corridors and doorways and seem oblivious to the fact they are getting in the fucking way.

People who are constantly clearing their throats.

Groups of people who take up the whole pavement and walk as slowly as possible.

Umbrellas. I fucking hate those things. Buy a jacket with a hood for f**k sake!

Ah yes, one day I just know it the wee metal bits that stick out will catch my cheek and rip it apart. I just know it will happen someday.

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People who have impromptu meetings in corridors and doorways and seem oblivious to the fact they are getting in the fucking way.

Even worse when it's in supermarkets. :angry:

Some geriatric turd meets another geriatric turd that they vaguely know and it's time for a gossip and catch up session that lasts right back until our Sandra had her gallbladder operation. Meanwhile they've parked their trolleys diagonally across the expanse of aisle. To add to that they look at you as if you've just pissed on their People's Friend when you have the temerity to say 'excuse me' and want past.

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Don't worry son, you'll get your obilgatory 4-0 + win v us at the Stadio Del Wind Tunnel next season. Is Michael McGowan still with Clyde?

Nope, we punted him to Queen of the South who have punted him recently.

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Even worse when it's in supermarkets. :angry:

Some geriatric turd meets another geriatric turd that they vaguely know and it's time for a gossip and catch up session that lasts right back until our Sandra had her gallbladder operation. Meanwhile they've parked their trolleys diagonally across the expanse of aisle. To add to that they look at you as if you've just pissed on their People's Friend when you have the temerity to say 'excuse me' and want past.

It's worse when it's the checkout woman who's best pals with the old biddy in front of you in the queue. Happened to me yesterday in Asda, I had to stand about for several eras while the octogenarian bint regaled her compadre with tales of how the Real Radio Renegade was in the Bay on Wednesday morning, including a detailed description of how he was at the beach at one point, and then he was at Tesco.

Then, after I'd used one of the handily placed disposable razors to shave off the beard I'd grown whilst waiting, she had the temerity to ask me if I'd been out looking for him. No, I fucking wasn't, because I'm not a dribbling mess who has nothing better to do than run around Dalgety Bay's four points of interest harassing passers-by. Now give me the 70cl of Asda vodka and crate of Carlsberg that I'm trying to buy for the 17 year old boy who's waiting outside in my car, and get back to doing your fucking job.

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