So my Sister (with a favour for the Rags) is mercifully in Dubai over Christmas but has invited us to dinner on Sunday to exchange pleasantries, whatever they are. I foolishly asked what time and she said 2pm. As a result of which I will be spectacularly rude and look at my phone throughout the meal.
Our winning run will end eventually and what better place than Stratford? comfortably the worst place I have ever been to in London, and it didn't include a visit to the stadium we all own.
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