We'll get turned over for sure

It's dead and hopeless mate, stand on me brethren

It's just so much ironed on misery I can barely stand it. If there was light at the end of the tunnel that would help, but there never seems to be

I'm up for an octagon death match against fat lad. If he loses, venkys sell up. If I lost, I won't be around to live the misery of venkys jackboot

I'm reminded of porridge the movie. Fletcher: Don't look at me. I've grown disenchanted with the game. Twenty years of supporting Orient does that for a man It's much the same being a rovers fan. We're nailed on too go down next year, unless something big happens. This valerian geezer (I've got sleeping pills made of valerian by the way, is this a coincidence?) is the bottom of the barrel. I'm going to assume he's going to be here next season and won't get sacked until December. By which stage we'll be firmly in the drop zone. We've been cruising for a bruising for so long, flogging off the silver and replacing it with tat. Only so long you can do that before the cracks start widening. And if we go down, that's it. We wouldn't get back up without a change of ownership. And still they won't sell. What a shower of arseholes there people are. I hope their next shit is a pineapple

Think only thing that would have any effect would be to bombard companies that service them here with protest letters. If they stop doing work for them then they make life difficult and they're lazy fuckers. Anything else they really couldn't give a fuck about. Either that or get a game postponed. Disruption is the order of the day. A newspaper ad is tomorrowsy chip paper, and even if it were noticed by some readers, it would soon be forgotten

Tits out for the lads The mother of all deaths spirals beckons. This manager is NFG, and he may already have lost the dressing room

I've just never felt so bloody despondent about the whole thing. If rovers was the point of Guinness day in front of me, venkys is like a dash of Pimm's some idiot has poured in. You know they're there but you can't see them, you try to pretend your pint doesn't have pimms in, because it still looks the same but Jesus Christ it leaves a tremendously bad taste in the mouth. Nobody asked you if you wanted Pimm's in your pint, and the idiot behind the bar tried to tell you it's a good thing. You desperately want to get the bloody stuff out but it seems impossible and you start wondering if the best thing to do is or the fucker down the drain and go to IKEA instead

He's highly rated amongst his piers

If he's any cop he'll be gone by the end of next season. If he's crap he'll either be gone by the end of the season or we'll be stuck with him for five years.

Living under the venky jackboot is indeed like a snail having to crawl along a razor blade

Nah, it was jonnolad

Does this help? https://www.sotwe.com/JackGreensnote

I know what you're getting at, and you may be correct, but to me, it's Occam's razor time and the simplest explanation is just that they're hopeless, and the decision making is paralyzed by the absent landlords. I don't think we sack managers full stop, who's the last one who has his contract terminated, coyle? What's that, eight years ago? They don't like doing anything other than picking their wages up, that's my impression. I could be wrong, it's been known to happen

Sounds like if it's Ismael , it would be a minor miracle if he lasts until the end of the season. I would call it a managed decline, but I don't think the executive at the club have the wherewithal too manage anything other than picking their wages up