I'm not a bitter man. I don't hold grudges. But I reserve the divine right to be overjoyed when London's second worst team get knocked out of the FA Cup.
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That day was notable as I fell off my bed while watching this and strained my groin, then had to do a five hour evening shift at Stapleford CoOp in agony and misery.
So bye, Spurs, and your Alan Dugar mini-me manager.
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So bye, Spurs, and your Alan Dugar mini-me manager.