rocket-fuel

Absolutely. I was there. Let me help you. Which one (or both) do you not remember? Strachan's may have been the League Cup right enough, without researching.

I have not had the pleasure or otherwise of watching the 2nd tier of English football, nor can I ever enviasge watching it. All I do know, is that the premier tier in Scottish fitba, or at least the games involving Aberdeen, for many years now, have been hard work.

Oh the nostalgia. A cup run in which a former Rangers manager scored against the Rangers and the current Celtic manager scored against the Celtic, in the finals!

Don't be too hard on yourselves. Love thyself. No other fucker will if you don't do it first.

You're wrong. I just spoke to him. He loves them. Even thought about buying one once. Got drunk instead though, as usual.

We both know that your response is not of sufficiently high quality to be deserving of a response, but I have to ask. Call it depth-plumbing. Why would the real rocket love the Mark IV? He tells me that he has hated Golfs for ever.

Errrmmm... I think so.

That was the car, the only branded number in the Golf range. I have an irrational dislike for the shape of the Golf. The Mark IV was bad but the V was the end.

Deliberately avoided Madrid and Munich - reverse glory-hunting? / inevitable non-glory-avoidance?, whatever - but heard how bad it was. I will never return to see Scotland after the Dam when we got humped 6-0. The majority of Scots "fans" - the famous tartan army - were complete embarrassments.

You want to go down that route, I loved the Ford Capri. Before I could drive... natch. Alfasud and Capri poor options v. the Scirocco.

I hate VW's - sorry, Slim - but my mate was talking about gettng a 32 4motion today. They are so ugly.

As time goes by, my tendency has been to "like" less and less people - "ever decreasing circles", as once described. However, the nearer to death one gets, and I am definitely over 50% of life, one tends to see the total negs more instantly, but finds more positives in the floating populace. When it comes to folk in red scarves, or folk in the away end at away games, I love them all, just for being on "the same side". Chances are, if I knew them better, I would find a proportion of fudsters and fudsticks that I find in the general population, although I suspect the proportion would be less. There is no rational reason why Aberdeen fans should be more likeable or dislikeable to me than the general pop, but I know it would be a favourable representation. This is because the majority are from the NE, an area of unique parochialism and bigotry, a brand of sickness I understand and am amused by.

Yes they would. The only AFC game, ever, that I failed to make that I wanted to see, was Liverpool at Pittodrie. Was bleezing the night before and didn't make the queue. My old man was one of the last dozen or so who got before the gates shut, but I was in the bad books for having such "poor discipline" for a teenager.

If you are that desperate, I'll get you a ticket. I sure as fuck won't be giving a fuck to go back there. Was at Rec last year to see Morton kill them. Shite ground.

We don't have a Caroline. Two girls are quite enough. Your assessment of my multiplicity is clearly disordered.

GREAT question. Sorry. The answer for me is unbecoming as yet, but a GREAT question.

Very. This is class. Even my pretend wife laffed out loud.

For goodness gracious me sake, adamski. This thread was a serious one, and an expose of private communications affecting the club that we love, TNT PSV. You could have made a contribution to the main meat of the thread rather than concentrating on the peripherals. Boxes of toads contribute little.

Agree Dave. Never struck me as good player. A cumbersome, lumbering man. Cult hero. His skin colour endears.

Please desist. Your enthusiasm, whether genuine or sarcastic, is of no consequence to me, but consider the implications. A number of posters will be in danger of busting their laptops at present, such is the bitter taste that you have awoken in their gills. I send out the rockets when I am online on chat forums, and the rockets are to be vilified and despised, not praised. Let me tell you a secret. Some posters do not have the discerning abilities to tell, and would think that you are being deadly serious. This in turn, leads to a confusing range of hostile and negative emotions for them, in a forum that is not worthy of evoking self-loathing. I think I will hold the rockets back from now on, and let the Prof take over. Or possibly Anthea, she's lovely. And a virgin. Everyone wants to be her friend.

Why do they call it multiple personality "disorder". Au contraire, I can guarantee that it is quite orderly. One exits when one enters. There is never a duplication. And whoever is in the spotlight is automatically the best equipped to deal with the dealing that needs to be done. And when you're bored, Sheila comes out and we all finger her bottom. Well, Billy does mostly, and doesn't let the others play. Unless he's pisched, then I step in. Until Professor Pilchard orders me to stop.

Was in the car just now and Cliff was singing that awful whingey whiney shite song on Radio 2. I prefered it with these lyrics. Christmas Time Valium & Wine Children indulging in petty crime Dad's on the smack and Mum's out her tree Chistmas is ace when you come from Dundee.

Never been married. And forget kids. I can't get it up. Too much alcohol for too long. I just said I was married with kids to try and appear normal. At least I fooled you, so that is a result. I love the internet. And I hate it. I love me. I hate me. Eternal raging battles. Some you win. Some you win less.

Jeez. You missed it completely. You need to lighten up. Seriously. You do. I promised myself I wouldn't get involved again. I just can't handle internet forums. Frequenting with thinkers with one dimension, when there are actually three proven and four proposed by the string theorists, isn't adding value to my existence. Literal. Clitoral. Bye.

No. Think about it. I couldn't say my real reasons i.e. I wasn't in favour of JC's appointment and it is of paramount importance to me that I get proved right in the end, thus validating my sad little life and Miller snubbed me once and I took this as a personal sleight for which he will never be forgiven, apparently. Changing tunes is not a bad thing. It just becomes less seismic with age, in my experience.