Goes into a sweet shop and says "how much for a quarter of pic n mix please?" The shopkeeper says "it's a pound, Sir." Van Gaal says "I'll give you fifteen grand and that's my final offer." Woof.

Am I the only one who doesn't give a flying fuck? If the sweaty socks want to be independent then let them fuck right off and be independent. We'll have our North Sea oil back, it's our oil, in our North Sea where WE found it, so we're fucking having it right? You can have Lulu back and keep your deep fried Mars bars and your wanky bank notes. That's fair. When they ring us up and say that they've changed their minds and this independence lark isn't all it was cracked up to be we'll just put the phone down on them, saying something polite like "I'm sorry, you're independent, now fucking do one sweaty or I'll call the police." Whilst we're at it can't we force the Welsh to be independent too?

We went for a nice walk at the weekend, sat at the cafe in the park and ate sausages and bacon in the sunshine. Foraged a few discarded Haribo's too. Fucking ace it was. Talking of "walking" - did you hear about that blind bloke who climbed Everest? What a fucking achievement that was. Especially as he was dragging a frozen Labrador behind him. Woof.