Theverdict1
Well-known member
It was a choice. Jammy Dodgers and they can stick one bar of the electric fire on. Plain Club(green wrapper) and bring a coat.
It was Baltic.
They decided to
Celtic Tranfer Operations Room, (as it doesn’t happen)
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It was a choice. Jammy Dodgers and they can stick one bar of the electric fire on. Plain Club(green wrapper) and bring a coat.
It was Baltic.
They decided to
Theverdict1
Well-known member
He practically did. I also met him, great guy and a hero of mine.
Theverdict1
Well-known member
Meanwhile back in the hub of inactivity.
The beleaguered and confused have been burning the midnight oil. This isn’t a metaphor for working late, Lawell had switched off the electricity and they were using oil lamps Lawell had brought from his home, that he gave to his wife whenever he was going away on trips abroad.
He didn’t leave a coat to keep warm though, as he had still four payments to make to Kay’s Catalogue for his wife’s Christmas present.
Jimmy surveyed the pitiful scene in front of him. How he wished Lawell had left the Jammy Dodgers, as he could have eaten a pickled elephant in between two double mattresses.
In front of him, he can see Allie in conversation with a mumbled, laughing voice on the phone. It was a club considering a £250k offer for their Star right back. It didn’t sound as if they were too keen. At precisely 7.45 the lights came on and in walked Lawell, smelling of rolls and sausage. He moved to the lamps, scarcely noticing the staff and blew out the flames. He lifted them, put them one by one to his ear and shook them to hear how much oil was left in each.
“Jesus Christ lads, these have to do my family for their summer camping holiday in Airdrie this year. What time did you light them ffs?”
Jimmy moved toward him to drink in the aroma of Lorne sausage and if he wasn’t mistaken, brown sauce. Not HP, a Tesco own brand most likely. It made sense.
“We have had no replies to our offers I’m afraid. Alfie was in tears at one point, as he could hear people laugh at him and call him a twat in French.”
Lawell looked at him with a cold stare, held up one of the lamps, shook it and said.
“Has someone been syphoning these? I’m sure they were full. I will need to put an expenses claim in for these now. As if I’ve not got enough on my plate.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy could see Tam, a usually happy guy, rocking back and forward in his chair, muttering, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
“Great News lads. I’ve just been on the blower to Dermot and he has given me the green light to up our bids by another £5k and, and, wait for this belter, a lifetimes subscription to The View. It’s all Fucking go.”
Jimmy shook his head, on the inside . He heard his mouth speak a lie.
“That should swing it Peter.”
“Fucking right it will. To the phone’s lads. To the phones! The first one to get a player, gets a bacon roll from the canteen at cost price. At they prices I’m losing money.”
“Mr Peter, we have heard that Sevco have signed Defoe and Davis, along with two others. Any news on Baywatch, I mean Bayo?”
“Don’t worry about them. They will be bust by Wednesday. As for Bayo, well, he’s on our Instagram page, so it’s looking good. Can you believe the money we have had to pay for a player I’d never heard of?
“Is he any good Mr Peter? I know we need back up.”
“He fucking better be at they prices. I had to lie down in a dark cupboard to get rid of terrible palpitations and panic wheezing.”
Jimmy left him standing there checking his own pulse. His comrades began calling the operators and asking if they would check clubs to see if they would accept a reverse call charge to speak to them.
In all the mayhem, the tapping of phones, the sighs and low sobs, Jimmy looked out of the window at Glasgow going to work. He thought about how they could get the players his beloved club needed, whilst offering low bids and complicated year long subscriptions, but mostly he thought about a Lorne sausage roll with brown sauce. This one would have HP and white pepper. Just the way he liked them.
He would see his family again. He knew that, but not today.
To be continued.
The beleaguered and confused have been burning the midnight oil. This isn’t a metaphor for working late, Lawell had switched off the electricity and they were using oil lamps Lawell had brought from his home, that he gave to his wife whenever he was going away on trips abroad.
He didn’t leave a coat to keep warm though, as he had still four payments to make to Kay’s Catalogue for his wife’s Christmas present.
Jimmy surveyed the pitiful scene in front of him. How he wished Lawell had left the Jammy Dodgers, as he could have eaten a pickled elephant in between two double mattresses.
In front of him, he can see Allie in conversation with a mumbled, laughing voice on the phone. It was a club considering a £250k offer for their Star right back. It didn’t sound as if they were too keen. At precisely 7.45 the lights came on and in walked Lawell, smelling of rolls and sausage. He moved to the lamps, scarcely noticing the staff and blew out the flames. He lifted them, put them one by one to his ear and shook them to hear how much oil was left in each.
“Jesus Christ lads, these have to do my family for their summer camping holiday in Airdrie this year. What time did you light them ffs?”
Jimmy moved toward him to drink in the aroma of Lorne sausage and if he wasn’t mistaken, brown sauce. Not HP, a Tesco own brand most likely. It made sense.
“We have had no replies to our offers I’m afraid. Alfie was in tears at one point, as he could hear people laugh at him and call him a twat in French.”
Lawell looked at him with a cold stare, held up one of the lamps, shook it and said.
“Has someone been syphoning these? I’m sure they were full. I will need to put an expenses claim in for these now. As if I’ve not got enough on my plate.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy could see Tam, a usually happy guy, rocking back and forward in his chair, muttering, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.
“Great News lads. I’ve just been on the blower to Dermot and he has given me the green light to up our bids by another £5k and, and, wait for this belter, a lifetimes subscription to The View. It’s all Fucking go.”
Jimmy shook his head, on the inside . He heard his mouth speak a lie.
“That should swing it Peter.”
“Fucking right it will. To the phone’s lads. To the phones! The first one to get a player, gets a bacon roll from the canteen at cost price. At they prices I’m losing money.”
“Mr Peter, we have heard that Sevco have signed Defoe and Davis, along with two others. Any news on Baywatch, I mean Bayo?”
“Don’t worry about them. They will be bust by Wednesday. As for Bayo, well, he’s on our Instagram page, so it’s looking good. Can you believe the money we have had to pay for a player I’d never heard of?
“Is he any good Mr Peter? I know we need back up.”
“He fucking better be at they prices. I had to lie down in a dark cupboard to get rid of terrible palpitations and panic wheezing.”
Jimmy left him standing there checking his own pulse. His comrades began calling the operators and asking if they would check clubs to see if they would accept a reverse call charge to speak to them.
In all the mayhem, the tapping of phones, the sighs and low sobs, Jimmy looked out of the window at Glasgow going to work. He thought about how they could get the players his beloved club needed, whilst offering low bids and complicated year long subscriptions, but mostly he thought about a Lorne sausage roll with brown sauce. This one would have HP and white pepper. Just the way he liked them.
He would see his family again. He knew that, but not today.
To be continued.
Brimcbhoy
Well-known member
Brimcbhoy
Well-known member
Theverdict1
Well-known member
Genuinely laughed out loud at that, hilarious because its true.
If you don’t laugh, you greet. Maybe today. Maybe today.
