I just had to pop back in as i've just had one of the most surreal and incredible experiences of my life.
As i leapt from the shower and walked to the bedroom, feeling so fresh and clean with blind optimism, i was suddenly struck. I stopped in my tracks as i witnessed my England shirt hanging nobly from it's hanger, ready to receive my proud English frame. My window was slighty ajar, just enough to that the wind could catch the shirt, and make it ripple, as if to sing in tune with the breeze itself.
Next thing i knew i was gone, to another conciousness. I don't know if it was a flash back, a vision, some sort seizure or what. But i was not of this world. What i saw was so beautiful it was almost tangible, right before my eyes i saw the ghostly moments of English football. I saw...that tackle by Moore, i saw when Lineker scored, i saw Bobby...BELTING the ball, and by god if i didn't see Nobby dancing...
Next thing i knew i was back in the room, back in this cold harsh reality, the blustery winds of a rainy English summer stung my pale white skin. I lay, naked, contemplating whether i would ever see such beauty again, whether it would just be best to end it all now, as i could surely not know such euphoria a second time.
And just as i brought a pair of plastic scissors to my wrist, my head turned skywards, and what i saw was not the doom of unachievable dreams. What i saw was the 3 lions, staring proudly at me from the hanger. I couldn't help it, i burst in to tears of joy. I was so proud. I was English.
like concise said, i'm not englishoh, I don't read a lot of swedish fiction so I wouldn't know and mad surprised that anyone know anything from sweden in england lol
http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lwg55nw1pS1qzjix8.gifI just had to pop back in as i've just had one of the most surreal and incredible experiences of my life.
As i leapt from the shower and walked to the bedroom, feeling so fresh and clean with blind optimism, i was suddenly struck. I stopped in my tracks as i witnessed my England shirt hanging nobly from it's hanger, ready to receive my proud English frame. My window was slighty ajar, just enough to that the wind could catch the shirt, and make it ripple, as if to sing in tune with the breeze itself.
Next thing i knew i was gone, to another conciousness. I don't know if it was a flash back, a vision, some sort seizure or what. But i was not of this world. What i saw was so beautiful it was almost tangible, right before my eyes i saw the ghostly moments of English football. I saw...that tackle by Moore, i saw when Lineker scored, i saw Bobby...BELTING the ball, and by god if i didn't see Nobby dancing...
Next thing i knew i was back in the room, back in this cold harsh reality, the blustery winds of a rainy English summer stung my pale white skin. I lay, naked, contemplating whether i would ever see such beauty again, whether it would just be best to end it all now, as i could surely not know such euphoria a second time.
And just as i brought a pair of plastic scissors to my wrist, my head turned skywards, and what i saw was not the doom of unachievable dreams. What i saw was the 3 lions, staring proudly at me from the hanger. I couldn't help it, i burst in to tears of joy. I was so proud. I was English.
E-ar lads, ere's a match report i wroted
I just had to pop back in as i've just had one of the most surreal and incredible experiences of my life.
As i leapt from the shower and walked to the bedroom, feeling so fresh and clean with blind optimism, i was suddenly struck. I stopped in my tracks as i witnessed my England shirt hanging nobly from it's hanger, ready to receive my proud English frame. My window was slighty ajar, just enough to that the wind could catch the shirt, and make it ripple, as if to sing in tune with the breeze itself.
Next thing i knew i was gone, to another conciousness. I don't know if it was a flash back, a vision, some sort seizure or what. But i was not of this world. What i saw was so beautiful it was almost tangible, right before my eyes i saw the ghostly moments of English football. I saw...that tackle by Moore, i saw when Lineker scored, i saw Bobby...BELTING the ball, and by god if i didn't see Nobby dancing...
Next thing i knew i was back in the room, back in this cold harsh reality, the blustery winds of a rainy English summer stung my pale white skin. I lay, naked, contemplating whether i would ever see such beauty again, whether it would just be best to end it all now, as i could surely not know such euphoria a second time.
And just as i brought a pair of plastic scissors to my wrist, my head turned skywards, and what i saw was not the doom of unachievable dreams. What i saw was the 3 lions, staring proudly at me from the hanger. I couldn't help it, i burst in to tears of joy. I was so proud. I was English.
theoretically this should be the most open game of the tournament so far
We're in 4-3-3 dude, but yeah, we have problems scoringFrance hasnt done shyt in the last 2 major tourneys they have a problem scoring goals ..i dont understand why they insist on 4-5-1