His mate tried to pick a fight with me in the concourse under the stand at St. Andrews

in the premiership season. Thick c**t was bouncing around backwards and forwards like a dickhead and bumped into my shoulder from the side as I was carrying a full pint of lager in each hand. I, however, saw him coming and leaned into his bounce, causing him to lump off me rather hard and hurt his shoulder. This was to avoid me spilling ?5+ of pissy lager I'd just paid through the nose for.

So he takes the right hump, doesn't he? "Ooooooh, SORRRR-RRRREEEEEEE". He goes like a c**t, right in my face.

"Grow up pal" I growled and carried on walking to where Mrs AB was waiting for her pint.

"Come on then, hard man, after the game, come on", I hear and ignore.

His mates told him not to be such a c**t and to calm down, it was his fault anyway.

Nothing else happened.

I think Pants was there that day.

Posted By: Arizona Bay, Jan 8, 16:52:12