A
Anonymous
Guest
No names were mentioned yet you answered so BUSTED.
You use the same swear words and attacks on people on those forums as you do here.
The Footy Thread
- Thread starter Roy Keane
- Start date
No names were mentioned yet you answered so BUSTED.
You use the same swear words and attacks on people on those forums as you do here.
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
What on Earth are you talking about?
A
Anonymous
Guest
Same user name as here, Charlie Cheswick. Self confessed Forest fan using same user name on three different Forest fan forums. Same type of attacks on other forum members with the same type of language. Not only here he gets involved in rude name calling matches with other forum members. Describing here at Solo how he manages kids at football and same mention on the Forest fan forums.
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
Edit, it's just occurred to me that you could be special needs of some sort so I apologize. I'll leave you to it.
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A
Anonymous
Guest
http://www.forest.vitalfootball.co.uk/forum/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=26079&start=26&posts=41
http://www.forest.vitalfootball.co.uk/forum/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=26029&posts=10
Banned from one website forum:
http://www.forest.vitalfootball.co.uk/forum/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=24622&posts=5
There is more!
http://www.forest.vitalfootball.co.uk/forum/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=26029&posts=10
Banned from one website forum:
http://www.forest.vitalfootball.co.uk/forum/forums/thread-view.asp?tid=24622&posts=5
There is more!
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
When you put more up can you make sure they're me
If you weren't such a retarded moron you'd have found me on the only other forum that I actually go on. http://www.citygroundfaithful.com/ God only knows why I'm doing such a weirdo the favour of finding me but hey ho, as you're too f***ing stupid to get any results yourself. Should I expect you to turn up on my doorstep with an axe? Weirdo.
I see you've started posting from somewhere else since you finally realised we could see that you were talking to yourself, like it'll look like you're somebody else again. You're one thick f***.
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Anonymous
Guest
I have posted loads of times on Solo and always from the same address. Let me remind you that you confuse me with the other anon on here.
You have been on many Forest forums and got banned from one.
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
I've genuinely never been banned from a forum. I don't know where you're getting your information from but it is quite odd what you're doing, a bit creepy, don't you think? What are you hoping to gain from this pursuit?
You've seen my posting style on here, do I look like I'd give a f*** if I'd been banned from a hundred places or have anything to hide? Dig away, let's see if you find any real dirt, I hope you do, I need to look more exciting.
A
Anonymous
Guest
I cannot believe that Chelsea have blown their title chances away three times this season. A draw at home to Burnley while City destroyed Newcastle means that City with Yaya Toure back and an easier schedule will win the league by a handsome margin. If you look at what Chelsea have left it is impossible for them to win the league now. I wonder what Mourinho will look like and how he will behave come May. Returning managers are a curse but maybe Mourinho will make Chelsea win the Champions League now out of pure anger.
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
Chelsea are top by 5 points.
A
Anonymous
Guest
What do they have in common, Arsenal and Madonna?
They always fall on their arse in Europe!
They always fall on their arse in Europe!
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
Dear Mr Berylson,
It is with heavy heart I write to inform you officially of my retirement as a Millwall away fan with immediate effect.
I know this will come as a huge shock to you John,… You don’t mind if I call you John do you..? I simply can’t do it anymore.
Yesterday at Rotherham was the last straw John, it really was.
Actually, that’s not entirely true, being beaten like a ginger step child 4-0 at Bradford on a freezing January night was the last straw John, but much like the intense pain of childbirth doesn’t deter the population from procreating, I decided to give my beloved lions yet another chance.
To be fair, it didn’t start well yesterday morning, being charged £76 for a ticket from St Pancras to Sheffield tends to have a negative effect on my beleaguered soul but to add insult to injury John, it turned out to be a single ticket, Just consider that for a moment John, £76 for a one way frigging ticket.
Add to that the cost of travel from the sleepy hamlet of Bexleyheath to St Pancras, adding a further cockle to my ticket costs (that’s a Tenner to you John) & we are now already around the £86 mark and its only 07.30am
I was pondering these ever escalating costs as I emerged on to the concourse at St Pancras when I happened upon a large group of excitable travellers, complete with skiing equipment, waiting to board the Eurostar snow train, I looked at these people enviously John, really enviously, thinking how lucky these people are to have such a reasonably priced pastime, Trust me John, In terms of costs, a week in the French Alps has nothing on a day out watching Millwall away.
Yesterday morning the 08.58 to Sheffield was packed solid with my fellow die hards, which in the normal course of events would leave me highly delighted had the seat I’d just weighed on £75 for not been occupied by the fattest f***ing bloke in the world John, but no matter, I improvised, and armed only with my quickly diminishing wad of readies plus my trusty box of travel scrabble I ventured towards the first class carriage of the train, surely there would be a seat in there..?
Incidentally, I always carry travel scrabble with me John, just in case we bump in to our young pal Vinny, who is mildly dyslexic, and a proper easy touch when we play for cash.
As the train gently pulled out of St Pancras I spotted a vacant leather chair and I was on it like a car bonnet John, happy days as they say. What could possibly go wrong?
Well I’ll tell you what could go wrong..Yet another poxy score later (that’s £20 to you John) I’d paid the ticket inspectors upgrade to 1st class, For f***s sake John, I’m still in a North London postcode and I’m already a Long’un down (That’s £100 to you John) and let’s not forget I’ve still only got a one way ticket.
Anyway It was about this time an air of resignation came over me and I settled back in my chair for a bit of mild self-harming whilst contemplating the potentially catastrophic cost of the day ahead, by now my pals had located me in first class carriage and it was decided that we’d stop en-route north at Chesterfield, thus avoiding the local constabularies close attention at Sheffield, you know what it’s like John, sometimes you’re just not in the mood for German Shepherds & Baton charges.
It was in the Chesterfield Yates’s that my running total hit one and a quarter (that’s £125 to you john) after attempting to drink my own bodyweight in Budweiser in a futile attempt to numb the pain.
Have you ever been in the Chesterfield Yates John? It’s a grim old tavern full of mean and tough looking faces, all of them game as ker-Plunk and to be honest John, their fellas were no better, but these are the places we are forced to frequent on our journeys, I honestly sometimes get the impression people aren’t really keen on us-I’m not bothered though..
Anyway, we wiped our feet on the way out and headed back to the station to continue our onward journey and duly caught the next packed solid train into Sheffield, standing all the way of course John, despite the bitter irony of having a valid first class single ticket in my possession. Nice. Very f***ing nice.
It’s quite difficult to put into words how unpleasant the next leg of our journey was though, I don’t suppose you’ve ever had the pleasure of the 3 carriage cattle train from Sheffield to Rotherham have you John? It was fuller than a fat birds shoe and had a similar aroma.
Eventually we pulled into the Promised Land, or Rotherham as it’s known locally and I disembarked full of hope, full of hope John for the 3 desperately needed points as we neared the business end of the day.
They say it's the hope that eventually kills you and I'm inclined to agree john, but still, it was with this foolish hope that we ventured towards the ludicrously named New York stadium, have you ever been to New York john? Actually, come to think of it, you probably have haven’t you?
I had similar hope last month when travelling to Bradford with 16 of my dear pals in a packed mini bus, that's 17 of us in total John, all self-employed, all losing a day’s readies, well apart from little Danny of course, nobody actually knows what the half man does but whatever it is he was losing readies by not doing it that day. Anyway, the team performance that night was comfortably the worst I've ever witnessed from a Millwall side and let me tell you John, when it comes to compiling a list of abject Millwall performances from the last 30 years, the Bradford game was up against some pretty stiff competition.
It wasn't all doom and gloom though John, leaving 10mins into the 2nd half due to the home teams 4th goal nestling snugly in David Fordes net allowed us to beat the traffic out of Bradford and meant that we’d completed our 440mile round trip back to London by 2.30am the next morning, instead of around 4am, it makes all the difference when you’re up for work at 6am John. Every cloud eh?
Incidentally, the journey home was spent calculating our days costs.. Lost wages, mini bus, match ticket, food and drink etc, we concluded that the day, on average, had cost us around a bottle and a half each (that's £250 to you John) Cheap at half the price.
But back to yesterday in Rotherham…Actually, no, at this point I have a confession to make, we have actually met John, albeit briefly in the Exec lounge at Millwall, I was the tall broken man with the dead soulless eyes and sickly smile that asked you what you saw in us? You probably don’t remember John but anyway, I wanted to tell you then that I fully empathise with your plight, we are very similar you and I John, let me explain, your financial backing of my beloved club reminds me of the endless readies I poured into my first car, a 1962 invalid blue VW Beetle, it didn't matter how many notes I threw at that bastard car john, it still wouldn't perform, oh I tried everything, replaced every moving part, took endless advice, and spent hour after f***ing hour trying to get it firing on all cylinders. It was useless, If it were a horse john, you would have shot it.
In many ways John, Millwall FC is your very own 1962 invalid blue VW Beetle. The only difference being was that I was lucky enough to have a lightbulb moment before the spending got really out of hand when the shifty fella up the road, who was having a long term turn out with dirty Brenda at number 26, told me that he could magically fix all that was wrong with my investment and told me that he had all the answers and had unwavering confidence in his own ability....I was having none of it.. Beware false Prophets I thought..
All of which brings me nicely on to dear old Ian Holloway, our esteemed Manager, or Basil Fawlty as he is better known.
Watching him from the stands on Saturday, gesticulating wildly from the side line was like watching a Catford dog track Tic-Tac man having a bad acid trip.
He looked like he was on day release from the Shady Pines psychiatric facility for terminally bewildered Millwall managers, let me say though John, for the record, I rather like Ian and genuinely believe with the right training he’d make an excellent Butlins Redcoat.
I honestly can’t bring myself to comment at length about the teams display on the pitch yesterday, it's too painful to recall, but f*** me john, it was awful. I mean really dreadfully awful.
Not much to report after the match either, all pretty routine stuff for an away game, you know- Horses charging, baton wielding riot Police deployed, Helicopters, etc- all standard stuff really John, move along, nothing to see here.
To be honest John, I’ve rambled slightly here, what started as a letter of resignation has kind of developed in to a step- by- step, or more accurately, blow-by- blow account of my day, and for that I apologise.
I would share with you the eventful details of my Journey back to London but in truth it’s getting late, i'm tired and I’m losing the will to live, but just to finally summarise, my day in total including match ticket, travel, food, Drink etc came to £257.35. There’s no slang for £257.35 John. It’s just £257.35.
In closing John, I would like to inform you that now that I have Saturdays free I’m considering taking up a less expensive hobby such as offshore power boat racing or pehaps Polo.
Anyway, I’m off to spend my last Pony (that’s £25 to you John) on a slap up retirement meal in my local Harvester, Have you ever been to a harvester before John?
Kind regards
XXL.
PS apologies for the appalling grammar John, the medication gives me dreadful side effects.
It is with heavy heart I write to inform you officially of my retirement as a Millwall away fan with immediate effect.
I know this will come as a huge shock to you John,… You don’t mind if I call you John do you..? I simply can’t do it anymore.
Yesterday at Rotherham was the last straw John, it really was.
Actually, that’s not entirely true, being beaten like a ginger step child 4-0 at Bradford on a freezing January night was the last straw John, but much like the intense pain of childbirth doesn’t deter the population from procreating, I decided to give my beloved lions yet another chance.
To be fair, it didn’t start well yesterday morning, being charged £76 for a ticket from St Pancras to Sheffield tends to have a negative effect on my beleaguered soul but to add insult to injury John, it turned out to be a single ticket, Just consider that for a moment John, £76 for a one way frigging ticket.
Add to that the cost of travel from the sleepy hamlet of Bexleyheath to St Pancras, adding a further cockle to my ticket costs (that’s a Tenner to you John) & we are now already around the £86 mark and its only 07.30am
I was pondering these ever escalating costs as I emerged on to the concourse at St Pancras when I happened upon a large group of excitable travellers, complete with skiing equipment, waiting to board the Eurostar snow train, I looked at these people enviously John, really enviously, thinking how lucky these people are to have such a reasonably priced pastime, Trust me John, In terms of costs, a week in the French Alps has nothing on a day out watching Millwall away.
Yesterday morning the 08.58 to Sheffield was packed solid with my fellow die hards, which in the normal course of events would leave me highly delighted had the seat I’d just weighed on £75 for not been occupied by the fattest f***ing bloke in the world John, but no matter, I improvised, and armed only with my quickly diminishing wad of readies plus my trusty box of travel scrabble I ventured towards the first class carriage of the train, surely there would be a seat in there..?
Incidentally, I always carry travel scrabble with me John, just in case we bump in to our young pal Vinny, who is mildly dyslexic, and a proper easy touch when we play for cash.
As the train gently pulled out of St Pancras I spotted a vacant leather chair and I was on it like a car bonnet John, happy days as they say. What could possibly go wrong?
Well I’ll tell you what could go wrong..Yet another poxy score later (that’s £20 to you John) I’d paid the ticket inspectors upgrade to 1st class, For f***s sake John, I’m still in a North London postcode and I’m already a Long’un down (That’s £100 to you John) and let’s not forget I’ve still only got a one way ticket.
Anyway It was about this time an air of resignation came over me and I settled back in my chair for a bit of mild self-harming whilst contemplating the potentially catastrophic cost of the day ahead, by now my pals had located me in first class carriage and it was decided that we’d stop en-route north at Chesterfield, thus avoiding the local constabularies close attention at Sheffield, you know what it’s like John, sometimes you’re just not in the mood for German Shepherds & Baton charges.
It was in the Chesterfield Yates’s that my running total hit one and a quarter (that’s £125 to you john) after attempting to drink my own bodyweight in Budweiser in a futile attempt to numb the pain.
Have you ever been in the Chesterfield Yates John? It’s a grim old tavern full of mean and tough looking faces, all of them game as ker-Plunk and to be honest John, their fellas were no better, but these are the places we are forced to frequent on our journeys, I honestly sometimes get the impression people aren’t really keen on us-I’m not bothered though..
Anyway, we wiped our feet on the way out and headed back to the station to continue our onward journey and duly caught the next packed solid train into Sheffield, standing all the way of course John, despite the bitter irony of having a valid first class single ticket in my possession. Nice. Very f***ing nice.
It’s quite difficult to put into words how unpleasant the next leg of our journey was though, I don’t suppose you’ve ever had the pleasure of the 3 carriage cattle train from Sheffield to Rotherham have you John? It was fuller than a fat birds shoe and had a similar aroma.
Eventually we pulled into the Promised Land, or Rotherham as it’s known locally and I disembarked full of hope, full of hope John for the 3 desperately needed points as we neared the business end of the day.
They say it's the hope that eventually kills you and I'm inclined to agree john, but still, it was with this foolish hope that we ventured towards the ludicrously named New York stadium, have you ever been to New York john? Actually, come to think of it, you probably have haven’t you?
I had similar hope last month when travelling to Bradford with 16 of my dear pals in a packed mini bus, that's 17 of us in total John, all self-employed, all losing a day’s readies, well apart from little Danny of course, nobody actually knows what the half man does but whatever it is he was losing readies by not doing it that day. Anyway, the team performance that night was comfortably the worst I've ever witnessed from a Millwall side and let me tell you John, when it comes to compiling a list of abject Millwall performances from the last 30 years, the Bradford game was up against some pretty stiff competition.
It wasn't all doom and gloom though John, leaving 10mins into the 2nd half due to the home teams 4th goal nestling snugly in David Fordes net allowed us to beat the traffic out of Bradford and meant that we’d completed our 440mile round trip back to London by 2.30am the next morning, instead of around 4am, it makes all the difference when you’re up for work at 6am John. Every cloud eh?
Incidentally, the journey home was spent calculating our days costs.. Lost wages, mini bus, match ticket, food and drink etc, we concluded that the day, on average, had cost us around a bottle and a half each (that's £250 to you John) Cheap at half the price.
But back to yesterday in Rotherham…Actually, no, at this point I have a confession to make, we have actually met John, albeit briefly in the Exec lounge at Millwall, I was the tall broken man with the dead soulless eyes and sickly smile that asked you what you saw in us? You probably don’t remember John but anyway, I wanted to tell you then that I fully empathise with your plight, we are very similar you and I John, let me explain, your financial backing of my beloved club reminds me of the endless readies I poured into my first car, a 1962 invalid blue VW Beetle, it didn't matter how many notes I threw at that bastard car john, it still wouldn't perform, oh I tried everything, replaced every moving part, took endless advice, and spent hour after f***ing hour trying to get it firing on all cylinders. It was useless, If it were a horse john, you would have shot it.
In many ways John, Millwall FC is your very own 1962 invalid blue VW Beetle. The only difference being was that I was lucky enough to have a lightbulb moment before the spending got really out of hand when the shifty fella up the road, who was having a long term turn out with dirty Brenda at number 26, told me that he could magically fix all that was wrong with my investment and told me that he had all the answers and had unwavering confidence in his own ability....I was having none of it.. Beware false Prophets I thought..
All of which brings me nicely on to dear old Ian Holloway, our esteemed Manager, or Basil Fawlty as he is better known.
Watching him from the stands on Saturday, gesticulating wildly from the side line was like watching a Catford dog track Tic-Tac man having a bad acid trip.
He looked like he was on day release from the Shady Pines psychiatric facility for terminally bewildered Millwall managers, let me say though John, for the record, I rather like Ian and genuinely believe with the right training he’d make an excellent Butlins Redcoat.
I honestly can’t bring myself to comment at length about the teams display on the pitch yesterday, it's too painful to recall, but f*** me john, it was awful. I mean really dreadfully awful.
Not much to report after the match either, all pretty routine stuff for an away game, you know- Horses charging, baton wielding riot Police deployed, Helicopters, etc- all standard stuff really John, move along, nothing to see here.
To be honest John, I’ve rambled slightly here, what started as a letter of resignation has kind of developed in to a step- by- step, or more accurately, blow-by- blow account of my day, and for that I apologise.
I would share with you the eventful details of my Journey back to London but in truth it’s getting late, i'm tired and I’m losing the will to live, but just to finally summarise, my day in total including match ticket, travel, food, Drink etc came to £257.35. There’s no slang for £257.35 John. It’s just £257.35.
In closing John, I would like to inform you that now that I have Saturdays free I’m considering taking up a less expensive hobby such as offshore power boat racing or pehaps Polo.
Anyway, I’m off to spend my last Pony (that’s £25 to you John) on a slap up retirement meal in my local Harvester, Have you ever been to a harvester before John?
Kind regards
XXL.
PS apologies for the appalling grammar John, the medication gives me dreadful side effects.
Charlie Cheswick
Well-Known Member
So congratulations to Bournemouth and Watford. Both play brilliant football and deserve to go up, I think both are a fair bit better than last year's promoted teams and should stay up next year. There's also a nice derby to look forward to in the Play Offs.
A
Anonymous
Guest
New season but same outcome. Notts Forest losing and Charlie Cheswick gutted. Loads of Notts Forest forums to cry at though.
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