Posted on Tuesday, 17th May 2011 by Sean
A great philosopher once said “Every goat has his day”
He was then corrected by a friend of his who said “Yer no philosopher, its every dog has its day you dodgy arsed dangleberry.”
Which leads me to walty smith and his retirement from the managerial helm at bludgeon dungeon ibrox. He has been in the whereabouts of ibrox so long that he has began to smell naturally of crack, heroin and tennants super strong lager. This he does not care about as he quite prefers the new ‘Au de hobo’ addition to his usual distinct farmyard gland fume-age.
Now walty has left the gers and Lenny has set the foundations for something special waiting in the wings, what will the sour faced pug do with himself now?
Celtic Park will surely wish walty well and that we hope he doesn’t hit is arse on the door on the way out, if he does it would surely make his rocky dennis like features look even more dangerously macabre, but I can hopefully speak for us all that we are glad to see the back of him purely because his front looks so horrific.
Sadly this will not be the last sighting of the wispy grey haired carrot muncher as no doubt he will have a plan concocted to haunt us for many years to come as his ‘mordorial’ experience will no doubt have qualified him to sit beside Graeme ‘Llama faced cretin’ Souness and the rest of the bash street kids on match nights on proverbial football shows that you watch with a dish and pay Rupert Murdoch to experience.
I again have dug evervescently into the canyons of the beyond and I stumbled upon a gold mine. I found this little ‘beaut’ in some filing cabinet that smelled like the undead marked ‘Walters bits keep oot’ : -
So say what you want walty we will always be the respectable ones. In victory we do not cause harm to others or go on rampages throughout the city.
. . . and you walty we’ve had enough of you, its over let your bulldog chops flap and say what you want because ally will crumble and it will be Lennon standing tall, monumental smiling at the halfwits on the wrong side of the Clyde.
Comment as you wish . . .