I Still Love You, England

When I adopted England as my team for this America-free World Cup, I figured they would fuck me over by bowing out early, maybe underwhelming in the group stages. Instead, they REALLY fucked me over by making a run, getting my hopes up, and then collapsing against Croatia when they had more than a few chances to build an insurmountable lead. Those mayo-slurping crown humpers choked like the cavity-riddled losers they’ve always been.

And yet … I still love them so. I LOVE MY PASTY SOCCERBALL LADS! I love that Jordan Pickford, who looks like a third-string QB at Nebraska. I love that ‘Arry Kane. I love that Kieran Trippier and his ability to boot the fuck out of the ball. I kinda love that Raheem Sterling, who can create like a wizard but can’t finish for SHIT. And, of course, I still love England itself, in all its damp, miserable glory. The pubs! The stifled emotions! All that brown food! OH-AY-SIS!!!!

Mostly though, I loved screaming IT’S COMING HOME!!!!!! over and over at my increasingly unamused colleagues. And THAT, my rowdy blokes, is the subject of this week’s DEADCAST.

But wot’s this, then? Fancy more, do ya lads? Well grab a pint and settle in to get RIGHT PISSED, because Patrick Redford joins Roth and me this week to talk about sea dildos, racist-ass Papa John, flare guns, and we answer YOUR questions from the FUNBAG. Tell me that isn’t victory enough for ol’ England right now? And you know what else, geezers?...

IT’S STILL COMIN’ HOME! In 2022! All this loss does is give me an extra four years to scream that shit out in a terrible cockney accent! Round up me mates because we’re going to Doha and bringing it home, WANKERS!

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