My housemate is a manc and he loves the show and is really enjoying it.
All I can visualise now is an episode of The Young Ones running through my head.
My housemate is a manc and he loves the show and is really enjoying it.
This has been a disaster. I don't think I'll ever feel the same way about the club again. The mystery is shot to hell and it's like a bad marriage now, I'm just putting in the time until one of us dies. I've had the euphoria of early romance (1977-1989), the years of growing up in harder times and slowly getting familiar with each others flaws (1989-2004), one last extraordinary but short period of passion (2005), years of real struggles where it was hard but we seemed to be working through it together (2006-2012) but now it feels totally bereft of mystery and wonder. I can't love another, it's too late for that, but the best days are gone now.
did he really do that with the envelope? fucking messiah complex, what was the point in that?
If he'd said he'd written down the names of the three people who'll excel this season, that might have been a bit of incentive. Unless he's made a deep study and critique of Max Weber's theory of the protestant ethic, I can't see what he expects to encourage by saying he already knows who'll be crap. Or maybe that explains our defence: they all think they'll get a prize if they're in the bottom three.
I'm gonna watch it later, but it doesn't sound like a bad motivational strategy. Odds are its downing, Enrique and pacheco, 3 players he doesn't /doesn't want to rate