Mismatch in the post-match pub
¶ 1
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She was a beautiful barmaid,
Getting our pints in a lather after the match.
¶ 2
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I was buzzing from the rare win
Away in the Big Smoke.
¶ 3
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Happy-drunk, I tried it on.
Did she want to come up to Doncaster for the weekend?
Bed and breakfast provided, plus 10 pints and a kebab.
¶ 4
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She smiled,
Which was nice,
But said no.
¶ 5
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It was then that I realised,
It was not to be,
And in that age old mismatch of the genders,
She’d skinned me down the wing.
¶ 6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 And so:
¶ 7
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Men are Mark Venus,
Women are Overmars.
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