Edging Closer to MOAR Lesser – Open Thread

Yes, by God and Sonny Jeebus, this time next week we get the Premiership back, and perhaps enough decent-ish JV NFL to whet our heroine-withdrawn lips.  As for today…you get FUCKALL and will like it.

Pretend Man City rages on.  In the Year of Our Pretend LAWD 2061, I won the stupid Club World Cup…but not the Cursed Caribou.  So, no 7 trophies = we pretend go marching on.  I have over $1.6B (yes, billion with a “b”) in my transfer kitty.  There’s no way I can ever spend it all.  Feels like a Pretend Rockefeller or sommet.

In quasi-reality, Everton has a shiny new midfield.  Boy howdy, did they need it.  Perhaps as importantly, signals are that Gylfi Sigurddson, Theo Walcott, and their similar deadwooders are heading to the Lesser Farm in the Country.  None to soon.

I reckon it will be October before I return to my normal level of Toffee jadedness.

Oh, and lest I forget – got quite the Friday chuckles over Li’l Messi’s Evita routine.  Jesus, the saddest thing is…I think he really believes his own bullshit.  Dude, you’ns in about as much touch with reality as teh Hippo.  This is not a compliment.

Really, truly, I have nothing else to say to you fine imaginary people.  Talk amongst yourselves.