If you're Javi, you can't go from a private school of all f***ed up entitled Spoil Kids

to an insane public school

where that nobody knows how to read?

Give me something regular, please.

Okay, please. Okay, wow. Another week of English Premier League football.

And I'm not exasperated. I'm relieved. I'm relieved. I think that's the best word to use.

And I already jumped the intro many, many steps.

But I will find a new description to completely categorize how I feel about the week's action.

But allow me to go around the proverbial horn if it would.

Yes, I will.

Chris Martin.

Give me three to seven words.

Probably you feel about Matchweek 22 and potentially Carabal Cup and Afgon Final. Shit. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I actually can do it in one word. Mm-hmm. Can I do one word? Yeah, yeah, yeah. I said three though. But check. All right. No, go do one. All right. No, no, I do one. Hey, man. I'm a maverick. If you can't handle me, Hart McCain. I love it John McCain.

Yeah. Come on in. Keep me in a box.

Come in. Do one. All right. No, no, I do one. Hey, man. I'm a Maverick. If you can't handle me. Hart McCain, I love it, John McCain.

Yeah.

Come on in.

You can't keep me in a box.

Come in, Steve Nash. Love a Maverick. The word is Jason. Now, just Jason. I'll give you some, not the Jason you're thinking of. I was thinking of how to word this correctly because I can't give the guy's real name,

but I used to go to university with a guy who had an alias for a while called Jason when he was going out to meet women.

He'd pretend his name was Jason. There wasn't even his real name.

Okay.

...