David Beckham on the field for the L.A. Galaxy in Carson, CA. (March 18, 2012)
Funny enough, now he sounds like James Earl Jones
“Hey! I guess they have a cream out for that now!”
-> “Ahah guys, his finger is waaaay shorter than my wife’s.”
-> “Uh, Mr. Beckham, that’s my whole fist.”
“Did you know you can hire someone to scratch your bits? You did?!? Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?”
he said: keep going till you hit the spot……….WOUUU
Six feet of tapeworm for you, not them.
No, Dave… still 98.6 degrees. Just like the hundred other times you’ had me do this over the last couple of days.
I guess he doesn’t play the entire match with his hands in his shorts. Who knew?
AHH!!! I guess her foot really can go up there. Too bad she didn’t take her shoe back with her.
Finally moving beyond the Perma-Crotchgrab phase, Beckham hires a Personal Buttfondler.
Given the recent lack of respect to the dreaded “Red Card”, FIFA institutes a more serious, “Brown Card.”
So he spends so much time on the front that he hired someone to look after the neglected back?
“OY, they found where Victoria hid my balls!”
Becks is a bell-end, never as good a player as he thought he was. Too slow, great crosser, could never dribble past any decent defender, good free kick, good engine, average tackler, defensively naive.
“Could never dribble past any defender” – yeah, that staple of being a passing midfielder. All the great midfielders can run rings round a whole team right? Like Lampard, Viera, Scholes, Ince…
cmon man, soccer is lame. 90 mins of grown men diving and crying like little girls all for a 0-0 tie.
“Check it out, guys…I just hired this guy to avoid ruining my manicures. Whenever my bum itches I give him a wave and he comes scratch it for me…a little more to the right, Igor.”
and now he speaks like Mike Tyson
Hey! He found Tom Cruise!
Please… Allow me to get that.
yes they are gold plated. How do you think I got my nickname?
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