Help me with my thesis on the 2020 Euros and English football culture!

[Rockabilly]

I'll not be doing it no more, yoths . . . ahv bin towd ahv gorra use the spik on ere what folk can get thiz noggins arahnd or ahm norrayin no more tuffees.

And so, from now, I'll only speak in the language that is understood here; the universal language of the LTLF Forum.

A language of dejection, negativity, doom and gloom: 'Omarish'.

A language of constantly being offended, upset, persecuted and ridiculed.

A language that Skippy The Morpeth Kangaroo doesn't feel the need to pass by on.

It's a language that's part of the Nottingham, Long Eaton, Ilkeston, etc heritage.

We should be proud on it an all.

 

[Rockabilly]

 

[Raymondo Ponte']

I see.

Allow me to help you, if I may:



Any fighting these days will see you sent off to jail.



I don't believe the gentleman or lady will understand a word of which you speak, my friend.



In which case, they deserve a good thrashing around the side of their head.



Agreed.

But I wish them well with their thesis and studies; their graduation and future success.

 

[Bob D'Imsen]

It's no good you laughing! I'll say it in a language you understand so you have fair warning. I apologise to anyone who is offended/upset or doesn't understand in advance . . .

Ahv bin towd off n'shamed, Ray . . . . . yullbe next, annorl. Slike in that poem by Johnny Weissmuller or ooever ee woh what med it, yersee?

"Fost thum come for the Communards
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no Communard"

Then thum come for the sausages
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no sausage

Then thum come for the braised onionists
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no braised onionist

Then thum come for the ewes
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah dewnt like derbeh

Then thum come for Ray!
And there were no bogger left
To spik aht forrim"

 

[Rockabilly]

It's no good you laughing! I'll say it in a language you understand so you have fair warning. I apologise to anyone who is offended/upset or doesn't understand in advance . . .

Ahv bin towd off n'shamed, Ray . . . . . yullbe next, annorl. Slike in that poem by Johnny Weissmuller or ooever ee woh what med it, yersee?

"Fost thum come for the Communards
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no Communard"

Then thum come for the sausages
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no sausage

Then thum come for the braised onionists
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah worrant no braised onionist

Then thum come for the ewes
And ah dint spik aht
Cos ah dewnt like derbeh

Then thum come for Ray!
And there were no bogger left
To spik aht forrim"