He asks a third time. “Whose. Bloody. F*****g. Phone. Is That?!” Finally, I spoke up, like a little boy. Very softly, I said, “I’m so sorry. It’s mine.” Roy put his arm around me, and he laughed, and he told me not to worry about it… No, come on, of course I’m joking! Roy lost his mind! He went nuts in front of everybody! I almost sh*t myself.
All we do in that group is talk sh*t to one another about Barca and Real! It’s the best.