Brugges 20th February 2020

Fuck it were on. Direct flights from Malaga to Brussels for £70. Will I get a ticket? Probably. Do I give a flying fuck? No. Out of the last four Euro always I’ve been on I’ve managed to see one half of football, leaving as I was thirsty and bored after all I’d only had about 30 pints in the last 48 hours. I couldn’t find the ground at Feyrenoor, was too disorganised to go to the ticket office at Seville and flogged my ticket in Barcelona as I knew we’d lose, couldn’t be arsed with the sheer rigmarole of the 30 minute travel time and fancied another lager if truth be told.

I suppose I’ll go if it’s not too much agro to get to the ground, But I really couldn’t give a flying fuck! Brugge has a lovely square which I imagine will be fucking superb for a beer or twenty.

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