All this back and forth between Roberto Martinez and Jose Mourinho – can’t do the accent – makes us recall that famous incident where Groucho Marx asked a lady at a dinner party whether she would sleep with him for a million dollars.
‘Maureen. Maureen! Have you seen this big string of piss? Drawing parallels between a summer hiatus in updating his little-read online blather-sheet and the 55 year wait for a follow up to Harper Lee’s seminal Pullitzer prize winning Southern gothic classic. The absolute nerve.’
Why do disappointing rappers incur far more ire than the countless dull rock and indy bands at Glastonbury?
Hey, anybody there? Hello?