Well bye eck, arr lads have shown that suth’n team
Chelsea how ‘t play ft’ball. Ahr Bert carn’t believe it. 2 bloody 4 wat
score-Smashin’ result.
Tha’ll all have thr ‘edds dahn in't tahn will them frem ‘t smoke as
they walk round than wi’ thr wax jackets and black labs-2-4 He he he. Tha’ll
be proer maungie this mornin’ will’t dahn’sizers.
Had a bet on annall did ahr Bert won some dosh-so that’s me
sorted wi’ a new frock fer mi ‘ollidays. Gonna go of somewhere f’t weekend
somewhere nice like Brid or Filey, maybe gerr a caravan or digs. As t’be in Yorkshire, as we ain’t forgot 'Wahrs o' t'
Roases so
Blackpool’s a no go. Suppose times come ter i' peace wi thir neighbours I mean
ooeer seas nor bloody Lankishire.
Anyway, off dahn town nah, t’ annoy them suth'n- fowk-
Bradford
City, Bradford City.
