Croatia 2-0 England
Oh. My. URV*F&$%F*(&.
I'll kill him. I will so so so kill him. EVERYONE told him not to try the 3-5-2. EVERYONE. BUT DOES HE LISTEN TO ANYONE BUT HIS OWN OVERBLOWN HEAD? OF COURSE NOT, THAT WOULD BE INTELLIGENT.
I cannot express my rage. I would type entirely in expletives, but no one wants to read that. And it's a whee bit overboard. Just a bit. I shall growl murderously instead.
And then there was poor Mr Neville. Oh Gaz. Oh poor, poor Gaz. Should have had that goal on Saturday, and got one today. But for the wrong side. Oh Gaz. There will be wangst fic coming out of this. Poor, poor Gaz. Go play your guitar and console yourself. *clings*
And back to rage.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHO*^&T*(^%*(G#*^&T@*@&&&@*@)DJLOHD(#&DIEDIEDIE WHERE THE HELL IS DAVID YOU OG*^T#(#*&DGISDNO*&^BS)*&S I'LL GIVE YOU 5-3-2 GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
There.
Shall now fume in the bath, write emo!OTP fic and study for Commerce before consoling myself with ANtM. I know how to live.