1649 St George’s Hill…
The composer of the singy verses that include lines such as ‘ Cantona put the ghost to rest, United won five nil’ and ‘dominate in Europe like they did in 69’ txtd me yesterday. He had a song.
Without my bins on I just presumed it was his handiwork as the song was very accomplished. When I got them out – my bins not my melodeons as I’m a bloke and as a consequence I don’t have any to get out – I saw that the txt had within it a few semi-colons. I knew then that he wasn’t the composer as Varna Street and Wright Robbie are not ardent admirers of the correct teaching of punctuation.
Then again he put that fckn many in it, it sort of becomes the ‘incorrect use of the semi-colon’ song. And I liked it more because of that. Whatever its punctuation problems I shall still furnish you with its entirely accurate sentiments. Fortunately you can’t sing semi-colons whether incorrectly used or not. That doesn’t stop you visualising them though if you wanted to.
The song went –
There was a girl from Stockport;
Her name was Hazel Grove;
She started supporting city;
When she was eight years old;
She’s been to nearly every match;
She’s only missed a few;
She’s never seen them win a cup;
And now she’s 42…
Arf titty arf arf. I shall never be able to get a 192 through Hazel Grove again without singing that song. Unless, of course, it’s over-battered. Then I won’t.
I shall also never be able to get on a tram again and not sing the following –
Hark now hear
The bandwagon roll
Mancini wears the crown
But we want to know where the city fans were
When they played Mansfield Town?
The reason I can’t now get on a tram and sing that? The 3007 may be here. It has been a while coming but it may be here. There were excited sightings of 3002 and 3003 when it suddenly dropped that, eventually, there would be a 3007. Mathematics tells us that.
Turning physical happenings into mathematical equations is what top swats who get jobs at Jodrell Bank do. And goodness love them and all other such Tefal altruistic types for their niceness in using their boffiny brains for the benefit of humankind and not entering into the putrefying bucket of selfish twattishess at the expense of all others that is hedge funding and international finance.
They’re brainy enough, they could have done. They chose not to join the disingenuous, untrustworthy curdles who casino our families, our friends, our homes, our jobs, our lives and the lives of billions. Some even smarm up as football philanthropists expecting reverential applause from those they have fingered with their dirty nails. Only in dick world dickhead.
The Tefals might not get a shag because they get excited about ticker tapey data print outs and blippy stuff on screens but they’re prepared to sacrifice social sexual acceptability for something they love. And that has to be commended, commended and commended again. I’m also going to throw in another commendediddydid just because they are so commendable and they are making me feel all hippyish.
I’m not going for a pint with them though the boring gets. They do that thing where they get a bag of salt and vinegar crisps, open them on the pub table, get a bag of salted peanuts, open them and put them in the bag of salt and vinegar crisps and juggle them together. Actually fck it, I will go for a pint with them as that’s a great trick even though I tried to resist it. I’m not sure if it works with cheese and onion though as I’ve never seen any one do it to scav one from. And doing it with plain would be a bit pointless. But the Teefs would know that. That’s why they wouldn’t do it.
However, in this instance, all us joeys have to do to turn a physical happening into a mathematical equation is to walk past a tram and clock its number.
Walking past a tram and clocking its number was what increased gigglyfication when 3004 was spotted. Mysteriously the 3005 seemed to be jumped for the 3006. The 3005 may well exist. Unfortunately for it, it’s now got ‘mid-child’ syndrome as the first and the last attain unfair importance. I might just not walk past trams enough.
After the 3006 the 3007 had to be next. I’ve not seen it yet. I took the picture of the above on High Street at the corner of Paulden’s and Lewis’s. It’s the 3008 as you can see. Somewhere that little 3007 chortle of Mancunian comedy is ready to take us to our United. A constant, moving reminder of the smallness of others and the goodness of ours.
* And I know, yes. I just didn’t go for the first year.