I fully intend that when I die I will be back to haunt the West Stand Upper concourse, ghostly tartan rug and CAFC thermos in hand, uttering ghostly moans about the length of time it takes to order a bovril and that I don't understand this new fangled menu with all the foreign muck on it! "Sidaarnn!!!!"
When I die I intend to come back as Tottenham fan, they never have to worry about anything, too crap for a title, too good for relegation and too boring for a cup. Happy days.
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