I started watching the Premier League when it debuted in America on NBC. That was the 2013-14 season, I believe.

It seemed like forever until the next season started, and now that is over.

Now I read that the league starts in August.

Huh?

That is awesome, but I feel like it just ended, and don't remember it being so close after the 2013 season ended.

Am I losing my mind? Maybe the World Cup gave me my soccer fix, and I had forgotten how long ago the Premier League had ended.

Well, the off-season break is like waiting for a woman to get ready to go out. First you think she'll never be ready, you probably start drinking on your own, coz you figure you won't have enough time to drink by the time you get to where ever you're going, because she's taking frigging forever to get ready. Your occasional impatient calls of her name go unanswered. After a few hours you decide enough's enough, get up from the couch and go see what she's doing, only to find the house empty and remember that she left you four years ago. You stand there at the bathroom's doorway. No sign of her, only empty medication packages. You remember you missed the last therapist's appointment to get more pills. Or maybe you missed the last ten, you're not sure. You're not sure what year it is. You look down and see you're only wearing a pair of dirty undies and nothing else. You chuckle at the realization you were shouting at her to get ready when you're really not ready to leave the house. You lift your gaze and stare at the purple walls. You've painted them purple, of course. Purple was her favorite color. Your favorite team plays in purple, too. There's a picture of her taped to the stained bathroom mirror. Only it's not her, per se, it's that Andy Carroll. He plays in purple nowadays, sadly, and you like to think that from the right angle, he looks a bit like she. Somewhere in the back of your mind you seem to realize it's all gone a bit too far. But that voice is weak and fading fast. You know which reality you like better. You trudge back downstairs and sit on the couch and open another beer while watching the telly that hasn't been open for two years. A few silent moments pass. Then an impatient shout: "Sandyyyy! Let's go already, we're gonna be so f***ing late!" No answer. You sigh and decide to give her a few more minutes. After all, she's the light of your life.








I think you're all right, mate.

And the winner of post of the year is..

Damn you copying my post from other site

zizzle wrote:And the winner of post of the year is..

Spoiler:

Art Morte wrote:Well, the off-season break is like waiting for a woman to get ready to go out. First you think she'll never be ready, you probably start drinking on your own, coz you figure you won't have enough time to drink by the time you get to where ever you're going, because she's taking frigging forever to get ready. Your occasional impatient calls of her name go unanswered. After a few hours you decide enough's enough, get up from the couch and go see what she's doing, only to find the house empty and remember that she left you four years ago. You stand there at the bathroom's doorway. No sign of her, only empty medication packages. You remember you missed the last therapist's appointment to get more pills. Or maybe you missed the last ten, you're not sure. You're not sure what year it is. You look down and see you're only wearing a pair of dirty undies and nothing else. You chuckle at the realization you were shouting at her to get ready when you're really not ready to leave the house. You lift your gaze and stare at the purple walls. You've painted them purple, of course. Purple was her favorite color. Your favorite team plays in purple, too. There's a picture of her taped to the stained bathroom mirror. Only it's not her, per se, it's that Andy Carroll. He plays in purple nowadays, sadly, and you like to think that from the right angle, he looks a bit like she. Somewhere in the back of your mind you seem to realize it's all gone a bit too far. But that voice is weak and fading fast. You know which reality you like better. You trudge back downstairs and sit on the couch and open another beer while watching the telly that hasn't been open for two years. A few silent moments pass. Then an impatient shout: "Sandyyyy! Let's go already, we're gonna be so f***ing late!" No answer. You sigh and decide to give her a few more minutes. After all, she's the light of your life.








I think you're all right, mate.

Arty

Spoiler:

art's been reading my diary

Hapless_Hans wrote:art's been reading my diary

I thought Goallegacy was your diary

Morty ffs I don't know if I'm more proud of you or your bald head.

srigooner wrote:

Spoiler:

Hasn't replied to my PMs for four years ffs.

Hapless_Hans wrote:art's been reading my diary

And been disappointed by the lack of me

You can't have your rwo and hans it too, arty!