Need advice/info on Premier Leauge (UK)

But that’s current, OP is looking for what it would have been in 2018-19.

And can anyone tell me why Everton’s point total is jacked? 7 wins, 2 draws should be 23 points, correct?
They've been penalised 10 points for financial irregularities - basically they've overspent for the last 3 or 4 seasons.
 
I wondered if it was some kind of penalty.

Wow, over spent and still not able to win much. That’s when you know you suck at cheating
It's a bit of a simplification - they overspent in the sense that they exceeded the losses that clubs are allowed to post. I believe they've lost about 350 million quid or something over the last four years or so. The PL rules limit a club's losses to 105 million over a three year period.

But yes, they've been horribly mismanaged. But I have a feeling that they've turned a small corner recently. I mean, don't expect them to actually win much any time soon, but I think they might be past the crazy they've been existing in for the last five years.
 
what place is then, the Newark, NJ equivalent so to speak.
I couldn't possibly say.
Well, that's not true. I could easily, but then I'd never be allowed back.
I did find some very seedy areas of London, that I will never go back to.
Bradford was pretty awful. Maybe that's because I was drunk and couldn't fiund food at 3 in the morning.
 
Worst place in Britain without doubt is Consett.
Several years ago my OH was running the Great North Run and the hotel we were staying in had a wedding on the Saturday night so we coudn't eat there.
As this was in the days before T'Internet and sat nav we pulled out the road atlas (who remembers them?) and spotted Consett not far away.
As it seemed to be a fairly large place we thought we'd go there and choose from what we imnagined would be one of the many fine bistros and restaurants a cosmopolita place in the North West would have.
The only place we could find selling food was a pizza takeaway with wire across the window and a pizza box sized slot to pass the food out and the money in.
There wasn't another working business to be seen apart from selling heroin, most of the buildings didn't have a single pane of glass in them.
The car park out the front was filled with packs of feral teenagers, drug dealers and minicabs. The minicabs presumaby to deliver heroin to your residence.
The whole town had an air of decay, misery and desperation. If there is a worse place in the country we should be ashamed of ourselves.
We left at a rate of knots and found somewhere in Newcastle to eat.
The evening improved when we got back to the hotel though, the Geordie wedding was in full swing, including a fight in the car park between two of the bridesmaids. It went a bit like this.
"Howay sharon yer fookin tart, I'll fookin gouge yer fookin eys out."
"Why yer fookin slapper, worrave ah doon?"
"Yer give my fookin wayne a fookin blerr job yer fookin tart."
"Well ah never knew e wer your fookin blerk an e asked so I giv im a blerr job"

(at this point OH noted, hmmm, ask and shall be given. I informed him that may work in Newcastle but not in Somerset)

Some slapping and scuffling ensued followed by a Geordie matriarch bellowing "Sharron, Julie. gie it a rest like, you are ruinin Charmaine's day"
 
Worst place in Britain without doubt is Consett.
Several years ago my OH was running the Great North Run and the hotel we were staying in had a wedding on the Saturday night so we coudn't eat there.
As this was in the days before T'Internet and sat nav we pulled out the road atlas (who remembers them?) and spotted Consett not far away.
As it seemed to be a fairly large place we thought we'd go there and choose from what we imnagined would be one of the many fine bistros and restaurants a cosmopolita place in the North West would have.
The only place we could find selling food was a pizza takeaway with wire across the window and a pizza box sized slot to pass the food out and the money in.
There wasn't another working business to be seen apart from selling heroin, most of the buildings didn't have a single pane of glass in them.
The car park out the front was filled with packs of feral teenagers, drug dealers and minicabs. The minicabs presumaby to deliver heroin to your residence.
The whole town had an air of decay, misery and desperation. If there is a worse place in the country we should be ashamed of ourselves.
We left at a rate of knots and found somewhere in Newcastle to eat.
The evening improved when we got back to the hotel though, the Geordie wedding was in full swing, including a fight in the car park between two of the bridesmaids. It went a bit like this.
"Howay sharon yer fookin tart, I'll fookin gouge yer fookin eys out."
"Why yer fookin slapper, worrave ah doon?"
"Yer give my fookin wayne a fookin blerr job yer fookin tart."
"Well ah never knew e wer your fookin blerk an e asked so I giv im a blerr job"

(at this point OH noted, hmmm, ask and shall be given. I informed him that may work in Newcastle but not in Somerset)

Some slapping and scuffling ensued followed by a Geordie matriarch bellowing "Sharron, Julie. gie it a rest like, you are ruinin Charmaine's day"
Ah, yes, Tuesday night in the cuntryside.
 
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