Sofa football....

I've been happily married ( ha it tickles me even writing that) for nearly 10 years to Mr Marc Bircham, at the time when we first started dating he was playing football, not that that ever interested me, I was more interested in the fact that he looked like Sid Owen and had a mutual love of pie and mash and chaz and Dave.... We first met at a charity do and he was on crutches hobbling on the stair case,and I think my first words were " fuck off out of my way and let me through" and then I sloshed pass him and made my way to the bar in an outfit that can only do justice on a hooker...but that was the fashion back then so I'm gonna let that one go...( it was a leather corset and leather trousers combo) anyway that night was when we first clocked each other and the rest is history.. I used to love football before I met marc...not for the football mind?! Noooooo!! I just loved going where boys went basically?! On a Saturday I'd get all glammed up and go to mill wall, drink in the pubs before hand, sing a few football songs, then reluctantly go watch the match, only to go back in the pub straight after with all the boys again?! Brilliant!! But then I had to start taking this football thing seriously .... I mean, I'm watching and supporting my husband play right?... So every week I used to go to football with the kids and do what I had to do, sit and watch 90 minutes of football...freezing my arse off..some of the other "wags" were ok, some were fucking bitches, it was at the time when alot of the bigger players had to sign for lower devisions and with them came there wife's or girlfriends that were just plain horrible to you, there was a group in particular at QPR years ago and I used to call them the sofa slut crew as every week they took up the best seat ( the sofa) in the players bar looking around turning the rest of us to stone with whispers and snide comments...one week I had enough and took the lot of them on, I got there before them plonking my size 12 arse straight on there patch waiting for them to bowl in and see there seat had been taken..I was extremely happy with myself but it was short lived as when the sofa slut crew arrived they didn't bat an eyelid and basically just sat next to me extentions flapping in my face and ignored me...they were twats anyway, one girl in particular was a fucking twat and we nearly came to blows on many an occasion..the bullshit this girl used to come out with was unbelievable...stuff like she had been on a helicopter that morning????? What the fuck are you talking about woman?! Were in west London???????? And her mates used to go along with it...asking question about this helicopter?! COME ON!? Really??? A helicopter?! Eventually the girls dwindled away as there fellas moved clubs so the girls left...thank fuck..no love lost there?!, I then took over that sofa which did me no favours at all, as it was the perfect excuse to stay inside have a drink and watch the match on the TV, Marc used to come up from the changing room on many an occasion to his wife laying down on the sofa, legs rested on the arms having intimate chats with the bar staff or the toilet attendants...hed shake his head and ask if id seen his goal and id just dribble and nod...thinking whats a goal?! I blame the sofa as i think it had magic powers, I loved my time at QPR as much as Marc did though, for different reason to marc but i still loved it,I haven't been there for ages but will return soon...ive heard they haven't got that players bar anymore so I'll have to do the proper football thing and watch this time, outside, like all the normal people, may even bring my own sofa? May even start my own my sofa crew? Who knows? Either way If you see me buy me a drink and I might let you join me on it?!