We struggled to find a Bolton fan who would answer some questions for this week’s preview mainly because every time we asked one they waved a handkerchief in our direction and said “I would not stoop so low as to dignify such poorly constructed stanza with the gift of such elocuted words as my own” such is the superior intellect of our friends from over the hill.
Eventually “Trev” (not his real name) agreed to give us his views and enlighten us in the hope it might educate us dwellers of our poor, deprived town which might only be a few miles down the road but light years behind the highbrow enclave of the independent state of Bolton, the Montecarlo of the West Pennines. Over to you Trev……
Ey up lads, me name’s Trev an I cum from Bowton, cultural metropolis of the Norf. These inbred backwards toothless woolyback gimps from Wiggin asked me fert cum on this website and do a bit of reeting for this here website. Ahm surprised they’ve even got t’Internet in Wiggin, I thowt tha still used carrier pigeons to communicate but what we me living in the Silicon Valley of Lankyshire – it’s a phone box rarnd corner from me mam’s house in Dob’ill y’see. Still live with me mam, despite being 47 she’s no idea I’m a Mongoose Cuckoo Boy who guz on Vistaprint and does calling cards which say “we come in peace and leave yer in pieces” so long as yer twelve years old, on your own and there’s fifty of us backed up by the Tonge Moor Slashers and the Breightmet Big Balls Squad.
Anyhows, they’ve asked me fert reet this preview cos nobody in Wiggin can reet, they’re all a bit dim whereas us lot on Bowton have all got Phd’s in such highbrow subjects as microbiology, proton physics and wife beating. Oh and the law. We hav fert know the law cos we’re allus getting nicked at footbaw cos we’re a lean mean feeting machine gang of hooligans who wear vem jackets wiv goggles on and go on internet and tell everyone how’s we’ve battered everyone and then goo KFC fer a bargin bucket and chuck chicken legs at t’staff singing are Bowton and EDL songs.
Ah dunt care much for Wiggin me, they’re a tinpot team from a tinpot town. They dunt even warrant a mention amongst are fans. People might say we have websites like Li-un of Viennahttp://lionofviennasuite.sbnation.com/ it’s named after some fella who played for us when we were good sixty years ago and they might say that website has spent ALL WEK – ALL WEK I SAY – reeting articles about Wiggin but they’d be liars, I say liars!!
NO way has that website spent all week calling Wiggin a town full o’ inbred, tramps, dwarves, fatties, wools, golf balls, flapbacks, backwards, wrong uns, whoppers, hobgoblins, maggots, buffoons and lepers. They’ve not been calling you lot a bunch of incestuous six fingered yokels. No way have they spent all week banging on abart Wiggin have no fans like them dead funny stand up comics whilst conveniently ignoring the fact that us mighty Wanderers only average abart 800 people more, cos that’d be completely hypercryticul wuldn’t it?
They dunt deserve a football team!! But anyway I dunt like fet go on abart em. Nay we don’t go on and on abart Wiggin at all cos they’re not are rivals, they mean nowt to us, are rivals are Man United, or Munichs as we like to call them cos we’re classy like that cos we travel the world spreading the word of Bowton. Yeah they hate us dem Munichs, don’t let all vat banging on abart Scousers and Leeds and City fool yer, they’re still upset that Manchester is just a town in Greater Bolton which is the central and cultural metropolis of the world.
That’s what you Wiganers dunt get and never will you see, tha sees life very differently when you come from an avant garde culturally sophisticated independent principality of prosperity like Bowton, a town so affluent that the Pound Bakery is called the £2.60 Bakery, where everyone has their own teeth and nobody whatsoever speaks like a gormless farmhand transported from the late 19th century.
Even are football is classy, when you visit Horwich’s answer to the Sydney Opera House, t’Reebok – well it might look like all dem fans on t’reet next to the away end resemble a bunch of bad trackie wearing right wing scrufty pre-pubescents who sing Addams Family songs all game and make aggressive gestures to the out of towners before scurrying up th’ill back to their prefabricated council houses in the sloping shanty towns of Orwich. But if you lot ad any culture yer’d realise that it’s an artistic abstract performance sculpted by actors from Royal Bowton Theatre (except Tuesdays & Thursdays when it’s Gala Bingo) in homage to the working class peasants of Wigan who can never, ever hope to aspire to such a lofty social standing as us esteemed Bowtoners residing in the millionaires rows of Deane, Astley Bridge and ‘Alliwell.
Some people might say that Wiggin give the world Northern Soul and The Verve whereas Bowton give it Vernon Kay, Peter Kay and that Yewtree looking bloke what says “tha buys one, tha geets one free, I say tha buys one, that geets one free” on telly whilst lugging patio doors about but that’s a deliberate ruse, us Bowtoners dumbing down to the level of the outside world cos they’re scared of us supreme intellectualness.
Anway, ah’ve bin asked give a score prediction so ah’ll go 8-0 to the mighty Wanderers wiv a crowd of 12,906 (12,782 of them being travelling Bowtoners) what with Wiggin being a backward town with a non league football team who’ve never even won the FA Cup like me super Whites did last year!! See thee on bridge afterwards when me and my mates will probably hit a few kids and wenches like me allus do when we invade yer scruffy inbred pit village yer six fingered no necked no teethed sister sh*gging INBREDS!!!!
Want to read more bitter obsessed inane hypocritical drivel like this from a group of fans who care so little about Wigan Athletic they’ve been writing articles like the above all week?
We recommend The Lion of Vienna website http://lionofviennasuite.sbnation.com/
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