I've always thought that the first thing a dog would say would probably be after he'd had a dump and he saw his owner following behind and scooping up his doings in a plastic bag. It would be something along the lines of, "What the f*ck is the matter with you?"
I thought that the way that he was so concerned about his dying gran that he stayed to finish his holiday instead of rebooking onto the next flight home to rush to be at her bedside for those crucial final hours was so telling that I couldn't help but smell the strong odour of bulls**t (a smell similar but not identical to that of the Mersey).
I mean, when my old man was breathing his last in ICU, having got the 'phone call, a brief word with the OVM and the Old Man saw me on the way home from the middle of some cold wet bit somewhere out of sight of land and at the old man's bedside in just shy of twelve hours, door to door.
Nice bit of brickwork for 800 years old.
Everyone seems to be on some sort of spectrum as an excuse for behaving badly. If he was my son he'd be on the spectrum of getting his head beaten in as soon as he got home. And another beating for probably shagging that geezer bird.
I reckon the only reason he faces 10 years is because of the large number of Man Utd fans in Asia. Maybe a bit of community service. Mindja, he could get a bit of leniency, if the judge is in a good mood after watching United stuff Everton next weekend.
"Here's 20,000 Manchester United stickers for you to plaster the YNWA gates and the Hillsborough Memorial at Anfield."