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David Beckham? Nothing but a ponce if you ask me. I mean what sort of a bloke wears his missus's
knickers, eh? I ask you.
Not that I wouldn' mind getting in his missus's knickers meself if you know what I mean - Christ
hold me back - but I certainly don't mean I'd like to
wear the bleedin' things. And he wears skirts too! He only needs a suspender belt and
he'd have the full set. And what's all that shite about being able to bend a football?
I could bend the sort of footballs they have nowadays. I mean it's nearly impossible not
to
bend 'em, it's a bleedin' sight harder trying to kick 'em straight. He ought to try bending
the sort of football I used to play with
when I played in the Sunday League, on a wet December, he'd bend his bleedin' toes not the
football, I don't know
about his broken metaltarsical or whatever you call 'em he'd have broke all his metaltarsicals
if he'd kicked one of the footballs I used to have to play with,
I don't know about metaltarsicals you needed metal bleedin'
boots. And what does he think he's doing with his hair? He changes his hair style more
often than I change my boxers, and that's very often, once a week at least,
more if I've had a curry. I mean first he has the lot shaven off, then he has
a number one, then he has a number one with tramlines cut in it, then he has a
mohican, then he dyes part of his mohican blonde, it wouldn't surprise me if he has it cut
the shape of Posh's pubes one of these days, like that Brazilian did, that whatisname, Ronaldo,
like Ronaldo did in the World Cup. Mind you it was right for him because he is a bit of a twat
from what I've heard.
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