In many ways I’m like a dwarf—I find it hard to put my hand in my pocket.
I never waste money on a newspaper and only the promise of naked pictures of Cheryl Tweedy would lead me to splash out on a magazine.
I may be a little mean, but I’m nowhere near as tight as Dimitar Berbatov. While celebrating his move to Old Trafford, the frugal frontman refused to buy a copy of The Big Issue.
My heart went out to a clearly devastated Robbie Savage.
Sir Alex may have to make some tough decisions now that Berbatov, Tevez, and Rooney are all vying for a starting role. Three into two simply does not go, unless it’s a Ronaldo house party.
If I was Fergie—and I drink enough to make a passing resemblance—I’d sell Wayne Rooney.
The big lad may have played reasonably well against Croatia in midweek, but that performance is merely papering over the cracks. You can put lipstick on a pig—but you should never marry her in Italy.
Rooney’s fall from grace has been dramatic. When he first burst on to the scene, he looked like the next Alan Shearer—now it looks like he’s just eaten him.
I can trace the beginning of the decline to Wayne’s honeymoon, where it emerged that he enjoyed a sneaky fag. Cheryl Tweedy was reportedly devastated.
I too used to partake in a crafty cigarette after making love, but I had to quit when they introduced a no smoking policy in the morgue.
I now only smoke when I’m knocked back for sex, so I’m stubbing more ash than Lee Chapman.
If United do decide to sell Rooney, their wealthy neighbours will be in the frame to sign him. City have passed their first official test as a mega-rich club; they’ve wasted millions on Shaun Wright-Phillips.
The signing of Robinho for £32m was a much better piece of business, and it’s rumoured that Fernando Torres may be next. Torres would jump at the chance to play alongside the skilful Brazilian—he currently looks at Robbie Keane and gently weeps.
Robbie is still reeling after his penthouse flat was targeted by burglars. It’s not the first case of a robbery in Liverpool, Spurs recently got away with £20m.
While Manchester City spend money like it’s going out of fashion, Mike Ashley holds on to his cash like it’s a steak and kidney pie.
Newcastle supporters intend to protest against Ashley and his angry midget sidekick Dennis Wise. The Toon Army haven’t been this riled since Freddie Shepherd described the local women as "dogs". Cheryl Tweedy is certainly not a "dog", although she does have a cute pair of puppies.
Even factoring in the shenanigans at St James’ Park, I’m convinced that Newcastle are overpriced at 7/10 at home to Hull. I’ll be staking one point, and I expect to be celebrating like Cheryl Tweedy’s gynaecologist.
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