Hi umm…. vs the annyal (or whatever name they have now) with I think Kondo in goals and dannmuy and chassy and me (your vert tired coach) + Tao and Rhian and Jim I thingk – i’d guess 2-1 a loss to the brown men and I got the goal.

FIRSTLY i can strongly advice against graiting the end of your fingertips with the cheese grater when you are grating the beets as not only does it make typong annoyingly painful but hard as the baindainds tend to make your tips slide all over the keys annd mash inappropriate keys.

SECONDWISE do not forget tp wroite tjhe old matchy until the last minute when you have worked solidly for two weeks every day and now you are tired as it makes remembering hard and does not help when your fingertips are a hurting from grating misadventure.

THIRD TIMES A CHARM and the reason you are here even still reading this. sing it with me looud and strong brother nannas
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
OLD KING LION!
YEAH FOOLS THAT’S WHAT U’M TALKIJG  ABOUT – OLD KING LION!
Old matey the Old King Lion, Old King Old Lion, King Old Lion was walking down the road when he saw and absolute knob headed cock bandicoot, which in and of itself is not that an unusual a thing as there’s plenty of them tipe of characters of a thursday night when Old King Lion does most of his huntiing. WHat sturck the Old Lion guy was that this here bandicoot was all dressed up like old Lion King, all balls brassed up kinda like how the King Lion buffs his own balls, all mane a swishing around with the sheen and whishwazz of a disturbingly simmilar sheen and whishwazz to what the Lion Man like s todo his liek, a hint of eyeshadow and a little bit of mascaran lash thinkening not at all unlike how OLD lione likes to make himself look a little bit sensitive and brooding but still mothwer fucking king of the old jungle. “what the fuck” thihnks mr lion, “what the fuck sort of knob headed cock bandicoot steals a respected Old Lion’s likeness and acts like it’s NOT EVEN DOING IT – FCUKS SAKE MAN THAT IS AMATEUR!” Straight away old king lion’s brain goes Chess Grand  Master on its own arse. THinking 10-50-1000-2300000000 moves ahead in the blink of an eye it see’s every permutation, devises a plan and spits it’s mouth’s chewing tobacco at the feet of the pesky ‘coot. THe old dangerfield manouvre, lose marginally, so we’ve right where we want em for the finals.