What a twattish post.
Yeah! I wish I was back at the Filbo toilet, in the 2nd/3rd Div, begging the Shipmans and the Georges for cash to buy shitehouse players that might just allow us to turn a corner but probably won't and just in case we do get lucky enough to beat Oldham or Barnsley in a play-off final reducing myself to kneel in genuflection to a 'god' I don't believe in because the overwhelming feelings of relief and elation are too much for my senses and my cerebral activity to conjoin, then thank that god that although my Club cannot compete in any terms whatever with the giants who grace the Premier League we can now call round their house to see if they want to play and if we fall on the sword of relegation at the end of the season we've been a gallant old Leicester City and played our part in Prem history like the faithful dog that offers its owner its arse to be kicked each time he leaves or returns, so we can all be proud for a twelve-month before we are put back in our box and return-shipped to Div 2.
Yeah, man! Right on. Them were the days eh? When this Club hadn't got 2 ha'pennies to rub together, but we were happy weren't we? We got up before we went to bed, licked moortoorwear clean before we could eat our gruel, went home to line up for a jolly good thrashing and felt lucky if we could sit down for a week, but we were happy and we'd done our bit.
King Power Out! -You're too rich. King Power Out! -You're too rich. King Power Out! -You're too rich. King Power Out! -You're too rich. King Power Out! -You're too rich.
BLUE ARMY !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!