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Football Thread |OT11| Campaign: Save a donkey in Colombia

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Arjen

Member
Pieters out for the rest of the season?
Seriously must have been the dumbest thing in recent history.
For those who missed it.

He was out for a long while, got to play again this weekend, then this happened.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xw9jGKJAeTY
Hurt his arm by smashing that window.
 

Ushojax

Should probably not trust the 7-11 security cameras quite so much
Apparently he severed several tendons and nerves. Could be a career threatener.
 

confuziz

Banned
That's something I suppose. The fact that he doesn't have a brain is probably more dangerous to his career.

He's probably better off with a modeling career.

image.jpg
 

bjaelke

Member
Liverpool's refusal to buy wingers in preference of yet another central midfielder is like our refusal to buy CMs in preference of another fucking striker. It's fucking baffling.

We'll probably get Ryan Babel on a free transfer this Summer. That should silence the critics for the next ~5 years.
 

GorillaJu

Member
Hitch/Laboured I love me some gaming PC but consoles in the first 2-3 years of their existence are always really special to me. I could never miss out on a new generation, even if its only marginal improvement on my rig, tech-wise.
 
Kalou was a flop but you guys held on to him for 6 years :p

Doesn't make Coutinho a better player that Kalou was also shit.

Hitch/Laboured I love me some gaming PC but consoles in the first 2-3 years of their existence are always really special to me. I could never miss out on a new generation, even if its only marginal improvement on my rig, tech-wise.

There is just something special about playing those crappy launch titles. Motorstorm was some real fucking chicken n gravy, but played it so much. Resistance not even I could bother with though.
 

GorillaJu

Member
Coutinho is an AMF but will probably play wide left, like Tom Ince would have if Blackpool weren't shitcunts. When I watched him play for Rafa he played on the left and was very very good.

But he'll probably be the next Downing. D':
 

Salazar

Member
Given tha option of havin a playa like Anderson fo' 75-85 minutes and a mo' conservatizzle playa whoz ass don't look ta battle n' penetrate I know what tha fuck I would chizzle.

C'mon now yo. Dude is visibly chillaxed each game.

Sorry but I be done wit dis argument. Yo ass clearly don't gots a cold-ass lil clue what tha fuck yo ass is rappin' bout as yo ass is rappin' utter guff. "A slowish pace from tha 55th minute".

Time fo' some homohorny-ass photoz of Anderson lookin straight-up wide awake indeed all up in tha end of footbizzle matches?

Glorious.
 
Hitch/Laboured I love me some gaming PC but consoles in the first 2-3 years of their existence are always really special to me. I could never miss out on a new generation, even if its only marginal improvement on my rig, tech-wise.

I do understand, and the jump in graphics will seem very impressive at first because they'll be demonstrating the new hardware. Even then my current PC is more powerful than the next gen consoles and will serve up those graphics plus much better image quality. As Hitcher said, it's mostly about the 1st party games nowadays.

However, let's face it, the first year of a console's life is usually spent sitting there waiting for some fucking games to come out.

*waves at Wii U owners*
 

dc89

Member
:lolololololol

MCFC's corporate information - gangsterfied. SO GOOD!

Club Values

For all y'all whoz ass comes ta peep Citizzle play, n' watches our asses around tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For all our supporters, they familes, n' our local hood. This is our City.

Khaldoon Al Mubarak
Chairman

Khaldoon be a leadin internationistic bidnizzman from tha Emirate of Abu Dhabi n' tha United Arab Emirates. Dude runs Mubadala Development Company, one of tha ghetto’s phattest investment n' pimpment organisations wit interests up in juice, industry, aviation, real estate n' corporate finizzle. As well as City, he be also Chairman of Abu Dhabi Motorgame Management, established ta create tha Yas Marina Circuit n' oversee tha Abu Dhabi Formula One Grand Prix.

Khaldoon has often spoken of his commitment ta both tha academy, n' ta understandin tha proud as a muthafucka heritage of tha club n' its fans. As he says, “Da hustlas is tha heart n' asz of dis club, thatz one of da most thugged-out rewardin aspectz of bein involved wit Manchesta City.”

Ferran Soriano
Chief Executizzle Officer

Born up in Barcelona, has mo' than 20 muthafuckin yearz of bidnizz experience up in ten ghettos, up in tha industriez of thug phats, telecommunications, aviation n' football.

Dude served at Futbol Club Barcelona as Vice-Chairman n' CEO fo' tha period 2003-2008 n' is credited wit playin a major role up in tha transformation of tha club. FC Barcelona started a period dat would brang it tha dopest thangs up in dis biatch in its history n' became tha dopest footbizzle crew up in tha ghetto. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Doublin revenues up in three muthafuckin years and movin from loss-bustin ta a profit bustin position.

Ferran negotiated deals wit a shitload of tha freshest footbizzle supastars like Ronaldinho and Messi n' lead a shitload of tha phattest TV n' merchandisin deals up in tha industry, includin a ground-breakin non-profit bustin hoodie deal wit UNICEF.

Lyricist of a funky-ass book published up in mo' than ten ghettos n' languages – ‘Goal: Da Ball Don’t Go In By Chizzle’-, Ferran is hooked up n' lives up in Manchester.
 
Who's ghetto enough for a re recording?

Yo muthafucka NeoGAF, let mah crazy ass rap a tale.

It be a tale of despair. It be a tale of woe. It be a tale guaranteed ta make you ejaculate up in yo' underpants.

One mornin I hit up mah dear playa, Bjaelke yo. Dude done cooked up mah crazy ass a cold-ass lil cup of tea. I didn’t like tha tea. Da tea tasted of poop. Yet I drank it anyway.

I sat on his sofa as he collected tha seachicken platter from his kitchen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. When he came back he sat down next ta me, rested one hand on mah leg, n' whispered up in mah hear “do tha Bendtner fo' me”

So I proceeded ta strip naked except fo' some knickers sponsored by a local bettin firm, strutt outside ta tha garden n' kick footballs everywhere but tha goal he had set up near tha pear tree. Every once up in a while I’d hear a moan, a groan, tha unmistakeable sound of some muthafucka fuddin his butthole tha fuck into oblivion, openin his wild lil' fingers like a smelly flower.

Dude could take it no longer yo. Dude grabbed mah crazy ass by mah rock hard nipples, so erect they felt like some muthafucka had rested pavement slabs on mah well defined chest, n' he growled tha fuck into mah ear dat he wanted mah crazy ass ta fuck his ass like Copenhagen fucked Brondby.

Naturally I didn’t know whether ta accept and not. To be forcefully penetrated by a gangbangin' hustla of dat club… mah daddy would not be proud.

So I merely took his soft Danish shaft up in mah hand, stared at dat shit. Told it dat it would become mah tool fo' a hour, mah sweaty weapon up in tha fight against mah virginity. My fuckin meaty baton up in tha relay dat is life. It was rappin back ta mah dirty ass.

It busted some lyrics ta mah crazy ass dat it would spend hours, days, months ta unlock tha cavern dat was mah slender butthole. It holla'd dat up in order ta fulfil tha wishez of FootyGAF it would need full access ta tha chocolate pie, dat it would need ta spend at least a hour lubin mah poopipe up wit home done cooked up duck fat before puttin a cold-ass lil copy of Alex Ferguson Premier Manager 2001/02 landscape up in mah carpenter’s orifice.

I was intrigued.

And so it happened.

And lo, tha stew dat emanated from mah glowin turtle was delicious. There was mo' batter than a gangbangin' fish shop.

Eventually, he ceased. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! My fuckin crack was sated of its ungodly urge. It was smooth n' hairless fo' realz. And then I returned home.

Da end. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da straight-up end.
 
Who's ghetto enough for a re recording?

Yo muthafucka NeoGAF, let mah crazy ass rap a tale.

It be a tale of despair. It be a tale of woe. It be a tale guaranteed ta make you ejaculate up in yo' underpants.

One mornin I hit up mah dear playa, Bjaelke yo. Dude done cooked up mah crazy ass a cold-ass lil cup of tea. I didn’t like tha tea. Da tea tasted of poop. Yet I drank it anyway.

I sat on his sofa as he collected tha seachicken platter from his kitchen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. When he came back he sat down next ta me, rested one hand on mah leg, n' whispered up in mah hear “do tha Bendtner fo' me”

So I proceeded ta strip naked except fo' some knickers sponsored by a local bettin firm, strutt outside ta tha garden n' kick footballs everywhere but tha goal he had set up near tha pear tree. Every once up in a while I’d hear a moan, a groan, tha unmistakeable sound of some muthafucka fuddin his butthole tha fuck into oblivion, openin his wild lil' fingers like a smelly flower.

Dude could take it no longer yo. Dude grabbed mah crazy ass by mah rock hard nipples, so erect they felt like some muthafucka had rested pavement slabs on mah well defined chest, n' he growled tha fuck into mah ear dat he wanted mah crazy ass ta fuck his ass like Copenhagen fucked Brondby.

Naturally I didn’t know whether ta accept and not. To be forcefully penetrated by a gangbangin' hustla of dat club… mah daddy would not be proud.

So I merely took his soft Danish shaft up in mah hand, stared at dat shit. Told it dat it would become mah tool fo' a hour, mah sweaty weapon up in tha fight against mah virginity. My fuckin meaty baton up in tha relay dat is life. It was rappin back ta mah dirty ass.

It busted some lyrics ta mah crazy ass dat it would spend hours, days, months ta unlock tha cavern dat was mah slender butthole. It holla'd dat up in order ta fulfil tha wishez of FootyGAF it would need full access ta tha chocolate pie, dat it would need ta spend at least a hour lubin mah poopipe up wit home done cooked up duck fat before puttin a cold-ass lil copy of Alex Ferguson Premier Manager 2001/02 landscape up in mah carpenter’s orifice.

I was intrigued.

And so it happened.

And lo, tha stew dat emanated from mah glowin turtle was delicious. There was mo' batter than a gangbangin' fish shop.

Eventually, he ceased. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! My fuckin crack was sated of its ungodly urge. It was smooth n' hairless fo' realz. And then I returned home.

Da end. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da straight-up end.
Why are you talking like...
 
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