I couldn't celebrate at the final whistle...


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Any temptation to run around laughing and screaming like a mad thing was quickly quashed when I remembered that if there's one thing that characterises the Mags, it's their quiet, dignified humility.
 
When the final whistle went I couldn't celebrate because I remembered that I was actually part of a child trafficking ring that was founded by Sunderland season ticket holders.
 
I did think about celebrating but any joy was taken out of the win when I realised, we don't have any pretendy plastic fans that feel so unwelcome when they visit our fine city that they feel duty bound to change their accents to fit in.
 
I was distraught at the the thought of the 500,000 screaming jawdees and thinking that I just divvent undastand how upset they would have been yesterday.
 
I couldn't celebrate at the final whistle because I have conflicted personality disorder, born in Hartlepool, brought up in County Durham, support Sunderland and work in Newcastle....the voices in my head couldn't reach a consensus on best course of action....
 
I couldnt celebrate because i want my manager to have a jazzy hairstyle like dutch scchteeve
 
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