Jarvinja Ilnow

Total rugby.

The articles say that even Brighton were surprised by his performances, and immediately "slapped a £20m price-tag on him."

Nah, too cheap for aRdj. He's from the Peter Ridsdale school of negotiation: "£7.50 for that breakfast, sir? I'l give you £12.99, and we shall never speak of this embarrassing exchange ever again. Good day, sir."

And yet you bought this piece of shit off that other captain mate of yours:

This guy, aRdj Played for us during2014-15. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rickie_Lambert

With goood reason: look at how adversely it has affected their credit rating.

But a club formed by St Domingo'd Methodist Chapel. Football and religion really shouldn't mix. Religion should stay at least 500 yards from football at all times.

It's not often you get off your lazy arse to post good stuff, but two good posts in a row is pretty prolific. Have some rep you lazy twat.

Sheer arrogance.

Exactly: I've never heard proper Liverpool fans say "it's our year," ever. At most it's usually cautious optimism with a heavy sardonic element. But then the ones that attribute this straw man stuff to us are usually the Mancs and their little, lickspittle Merseyside element.

Stag Nate Leg Weak

If that mess had been served anywhere else than Shiraz, people would have jumped on it. A sea of beans and two poor castaway tomato and blackpudding drowning victims. Beans touching the eggs, in fact touching everything except the toast (and even then I bet they're copping a quick feel underneath that bacon).

Ode to a Relegation Battle by TS Eliot We are the hollow menWe are the stuffed menLeaning togetherHeadpiece filled with straw. Alas!Our dried voices, when We whisper togetherAre quiet and meaninglessAs wind in dry grassor rats' feet over broken glassIn our dry cellar BoooooooooooooooShape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossedWith direct eyes, to death's other kingdom Remember us - if at all - not as lostViolent souls, but onlyAs the hollow men The stuffed men. ++ This is the dead landThis is cactus landHere the stone imagesAre raised, here they receiveThe supplication of a dead man's handUnder the twinkle of a fading star.Is it like thisIn death's other kingdom Walking aloneAt the hour when we areTrembling with tendernessLips that would kissForm prayers to broken stone. ++ Life is very longBetween the desireAnd the spasm Between the potencyAnd the existenceBetween the essenceAnd the descentFalls the ShadowThis is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsThis is the way the world endsNot with a bang but with a whimper.

“I am old. I don't look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart of hearts. Well-preserved indeed! Why, I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter that has been scraped over too much bread. That can't be right. I need a change, or something.” Greetings young Diego, I am Brandalf the Blue.

That was beautiful. If you could now put that in the form of a haiku you will ascend to forum greatness.