Which guy in the WhatsApp squad chat are you?

You’re all characters


“Wrong Chat” guy

You know what Gavin? Sending fifteen pictures of your dick to this chat in the space of just over three days is not a coincidence.

The piñata

It’s not because when Andrew says something like “Good morning, how’s everyone doing” on the EUROS chat, seven people immediately call him a cunt. It’s not the way he’s comprehensively bodybagged every time he tries to act in a way that’s different from the way you remember him acting at school. It’s the subtle and constant bodying of every message, every meme, every video, every shit song he shares on the chat that makes him the squad’s punching bag. 

Gwan Andrew

Gwan Andrew

When you’re sat there dunking rich tea biscuits into a big glass jar of Nutella or playing Football Manager on a laptop while you’re on the toilet or doing both of those things at the same time, it can be easy to forget that life is a brutal struggle of all against all.

Then you look EUROS and see Andrew floundering, like a squirrel trapped in a cardboard box and you remember that some people are so weak that if we lived in Sparta they would’ve been the baby chucked off the edge of the cliff at birth.

Only replies in emojis

When someone rises to a par, it’s the fishing rod. When there’s some savage banter, it’s seven crying faces in a row. They can’t answer a question properly because to them everything can be boiled down to the nail girl, the levitating businessman, and the burrito. 

Mr. Moral High Ground

It’s a Sunday afternoon, the banter in “Jim’s Hot Cum Dishwasher” is absolutely popping off. Tim has dropped a joke that would get Ant or Dec severely reprimanded if it appeared in the press: a bit racist and with some Topman clearance section misogyny. You’ve all ignored it and he’s feeling a bit shit because he knows the line has been crossed.

Up pops Harry with his “Come on guys” act, who’s taken it upon himself to not only call out the joke for its crass anachronisms, but also to shit on Tim, the whole group and the patriarchy as a whole. 

Everyone’s favourite

Jonny, eh? Jonny’s such a top bloke. Everything he says is well funny. He always suggests the spontaneous BNOs and he’s the one who’s not afraid to shut down Benji and Davo when they’re being dicks. I bet the other guys don’t know that me and Jonny have our own separate chat where the convo’s just as strong. Well it will be when he replies.

Person who kills every joke

There should be a tumbleweed emoji for people like you Michael. 

The frustrated organiser

Buried in the middle of a jokey riff about someone’s ex, the message arrives: “Anyone fancy going to see Spectre this week?” Nobody even notices.

Sket

“Boys look at the tits on this one.” Dean’s deeply misogynistic views generally float under the radar. If anything you would think he loves women. But after you’ve heard him vividly, and emotively, describe the perforations of the anus of the two out of 10 he “slewed” last night. There’s no doubt. Dean’s mum hurt him when he was younger, so you have to put up with his shit for the rest of eternity.

The one who always talk about their acca

Like the disembodied head of Ray Winstone, George seems determined to ruin your Saturday afternoons. While you’re desperately hoping your hometown team won’t come undone against Chester, he’s screenshotting his acca and asking every ten minutes if people think he should cash out now. Even after full-time it’s still not over: now all you get to hear is what he’s going to spend his winnings on.

Ghost

Was it me Leo? Was it my fault? Is it something I said? Is it something I did? I can change Leo, we’d all change to have you back. Your silence cuts deeper than a knife Leo. Where have you been? Where did you go? Remember all the cricket we played in the park? Remember when that girl did a Superbad on your shoulder? Remember when you literally took a taser for Alex at that house party in Islington?

We miss you Leo.

Plz come home Leo

Plz come home Leo

You’re on the Circle chat, you read the messages, but you never reply. You’re never there. Chipping into the convo every six months to analyse Floyd Mayweather’s claim to be the GOAT doesn’t count. The ties that used to bind us are disintegrating and it’s breaking our hearts.

Intellectual

Seb changed his name on WhatsApp to Sebastian, his profile picture is just a copy of Robert Musil’s groundbreaking avant garde masterpiece The Man Without Qualities and yesterday, during a discussion about double penetration, he managed to quote both Chomsky and Foucault.

Seb, mate, you’ve become a twat.

The one who lights the fireworks and then runs away

If the WhatsApp group was a stew, then Josh would be the guy grinning and holding the ladle. He’ll stir up shit that isn’t his to stir, like the time Will fucked Tom’s ex, then dance gleefully in the tattered remnants of their friendship.

The guy who kills a good conversation by abruptly changing the topic (usually someone’s sex life) that everyone is chatting about

“Guys, my dog just died.” Could’ve waited five minutes Rick. Honestly.

The one you disagree with every single time but you can’t say you disagree with him every time because otherwise you’ll look like a prick

If I’m being totally honest, I fucking hate Sam and I want to kill him with a shovel. But he’s Gav and Harry’s mate from footie so instead I’m obliged to say “lol” whenever he shares a Britain First status.

Only posts fucked up shit guy

The only time when WhatsApp’s default saving of pictures is frustrating. Frustrating in so far as Border Force could detain you on your flight back from Zante because of the filth on the Genny Chit Chat.

A cold hand being placed onto a breeze block, before its fingers are rudely detached with a hatchet. A man feeding his erect penis into a hungry carp’s mouth. Women rubbing faeces over each other’s naked bodies. You live in an awkward fear of opening his messages when you’re at work, but you don’t delete them. You don’t delete them because eight pints deep and you pretend like you sourced them all from Xtremetube yourself.

Only laughs at fucked up shit guy

Dan was and is a quiet, sensitive guy. He tends to blend in at parties and on nights out but you’ve always enjoyed his company. On the Chillin 2.0 chat he’s just as inconspicuous as he is in real life.

He’s generally inactive on a day to day basis, in fact you rarely hear from him. Rest assured, though, when Matthew posts the fucked up shit Dan reverberates back as fast as a squash ball fired at a trampoline with LOOOOOOOOL.

Watch out for the quiet ones.

The one who wants you to explain the last 400 messages because they WILL NOT SCROLL UP

Sorry Charles, but we told you about Friday night. Not our fault you decided to go to the cinema with your Mum instead. What’s that? You didn’t see the message? Scroll up then you jebend. Now you’re resigned to smashing VKs with Dirty Mike and the Boys from school in Yates’s while we go out with the girls next door. It’s been planned for weeks mate.

Captain Nostalgia

Yes, Joel, I remember BBM and the little red light in the corner of the screen.

Back when you had a Blackberry

Back when you had a Blackberry

No, Joel, I don’t miss it that much.

The one who hates football and tells everyone on the chat to stop talking about football when you’re talking about football (which is most days) and always asks you to make a football chat so you can talk about football in a place where he won’t have to hear about how disappointing Memphis Depay has been this season and he says this so much – like a broken clock chiming over and over- whenever football is discussed that eventually you start feeling bad for him, eventually you start saying well maybe we should just have a football chat you know? Because Alex is getting upset about it? Somehow, this actually happens, you actually find yourself as a member of a chat called ‘FOOTY’ (Group icon: Andy Tate, caption ‘DON’T CARE’) and at first you do just talk about how disappointing Memphis Depay has been this season but then you start talking about all the other things you talk about normally (sex) and everyone from the main chat starts getting added, until eventually, the only person in the main chat who hasn’t been added from the main chat is Alex and you feel awkward, so one night so you send him a message saying, ‘mate, shall I add you to Footy’ and Alex says ‘Yeah, OK’

It would be easier if you muted the chat when we talk about football, Alex.

The two people who get locked into a private convo that no one gives a fuck about

Manny has been on holiday for two months, you all saw him for pints at the Wheatsheaf on Thursday night and had a proper catch up – you heard all the stories. But JT couldn’t make it. On Friday morning he messages Glastonomy: chat’s a bit quiet today guys, how’s everyone doing?

Manny – foolish Manny – replies first and gets locked into a tedious and circular conversation about his holiday, which you already heard the night before. Here’s an idea guys: if you want to ask each other questions like “how’s it going” or “what you been up to” maybe just keep it to yourself OK?

Miserable one

This is an anecdote about Gore Vidal, the celebrated man of letters:

When a New York taxi driver once told him to “Have a nice day,” Vidal shot back: “No, thank you. I’ve made other plans.”

That’s what your man Gibbsy thinks he’s like when he bitches about everything and everyone being shit on the squad chat. He thinks being a cunt is glamorous. He’s as sullen as insular as the most torpid Morrissey ballad you’ve ever heard.

Gibbsy, son, you’re much more like Noel Gallagher talking about Kurt Cobain:

He had everything, and was miserable about it. 

The guy who always reminds you about money

Look Lofty, you reminding everyone every five minutes that we owe you £3.86 for the internet isn’t going to make it suddenly appear in your account. We know we owe you money, that’s not the problem. Even though it’s only four quid and even though it’s for something important that we all use, it’s really annoying and you’re killing all the good chat by reminding me. 

The guy who “always reminds you of money guy” is actually talking about, who’s always broke, but is always up for going out

Lofty is not happy with you Arthur. And no, I’m not getting you an Uber tonight either.

Conspiracy theorist

What’s that Terry? All the big companies in America are owned by Jews? And fire can’t melt steel beams? Hmmm.

Did I mention that Terry has been smoking a lot more weed recently? Just happens to coincide with his new found love of VICE doesn’t it?

To summarise: the shit you post on the chat makes about as much sense as a gazelle in a suit bro.

The guy who is thinks it’s still OK to be like Andy Gray and Richard Keys in 2015

Jimbo calling every bird a “chick” and sharing Brazzers passwords on this chat, might be quite funny to us, but it’s going to leave you on exceptionally cool terms with the opposite sex. 

The lame one who went away to uni and really wants to show that they’ve changed, that they’re different from how they were at school, that they talk to girls now, that they down pints, that they’re outgoing and easygoing and actually a lot of fun to be around, who shows this by ‘accidentally’ sharing nudes with the twenty five people on ‘Strictly Business’

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We get it Johnny, you’re not a virgin anymore. Congrats.

Links to Sky Breaking News as if you haven’t seen it already

“Called it” NO YOU DIDN’T DIGBY. Don’t be a chode. We know you work in media, but having news alerts on your phone impresses nobody. You didn’t shoot down that airline, just because you said in January there’ll be a plane crash this year doesn’t mean you called it.

And we fucking heard about Charlie Hebdo on Twitter we don’t need you to tell us man, ffs.

He never says much but changes the photo to a picture of Nick’s face on a weekly basis

unnamed

Yeah, that picture of Nick pulling a weird face on Thursday night is really funny. We laughed about it yesterday, and we had another chuckle when James made a meme out of it this morning. But does Mike really have to make it the group photo? Now you’ll be forced to look at Nick’s sweaty gurn every day until it isn’t even remotely funny anymore, and the only thing that came from it was Mike saying LOOOL and Baz chipping in with a half-hearted thumbs up.

Mr. I have a job and won’t shut up about it 

The busy third year who couldn’t spare five minutes out of the quiet section in the library, Oli landed a job which has set him up for life. Rather his dad did, but he doesn’t like to talk about that. Same way he doesn’t like to talk about his car, watch, six bedroom home and family yacht in Bermuda. You’ll most likely never see him again after graduation. He’s the same guy who has a go at you for using his plates or cutlery, and God forbid you borrow the milk and leave it out of the fridge. Hell hath no fury that a twat with little man syndrome and a new job. “Come on guys, grow up, we’re about to graduate – why are you drinking jagerbombs? Do you know what that’s doing to your insides?”

Oh, fuck off Oli.

God’s gift to originality

Yes, Walcott did have a good game through the centre last night. Yes, it’s probably too early to judge Jurgen Klopp’s Liverpool side. Yes, it is messed up that the price of a pint has gone up since last year. Yes, James did pull a stunner last night. Why did we befriend a parrot?

The one who copies and pastes the gossip column from BBC Sport

Dave, we’ve already read it.