Oh Please God, make it stop!

The ScreamEdvard Munch

There was little else that I could have portrayed tonight. There was certainly nothing in my portfolio that would have depicted my thoughts as expressively as Edvard has here. Maybe he too was at a Liverpool game all those years ago and was in the throes of throwing himself off of that very bridge. Maybe that was a bridge across the Mersey. Maybe he was so distraught that he was going over to the other side; to become an Everton fan.

Certainly on tonight's performance, no Red fan could have blamed him. How can there be any excuses when you have a "Super Team" that cannot beat a team that lay a division below, in 21st position, 2 points above the relegation drop zone.

And after Torres is dispensed with, which is akin to a kick in the balls; then Gerrard is also absent for the second half, which is akin to a full blown vasectomy, the believer assumes that there is something more, that the manager has something in reserve, that there is hope on the bench. Oh what fools to believe in such tripe. Oh what fools to believe that Liverpool could progress after the tantalising Champions League victory all those years (it seems) ago..

There has been nothing more. The impotence of a second class team is there for all to see. Millions upon millions of money wasted on useless fucks; Who is Ngog? Who the fuck is Lucas (is he a dynamo (sic)) Why the fuck did Liverpool pay 18 million pounds for Aquilani? Who else will Liverpool pay exorbitant prices for, and get fuck all in return.

Crouch has gone, Keane; Owen, Liverpool could have bought back,.... I could go on.

Months back I said that Benitez should go. How many more embarassments must Liverpool suffer before he fucks off.

50 years ago, Bill Shankly took over Liverpool's management. He removed all the deadwood and resurrected the Liverpool team.

Now is the time for just that to be replicated; another Shankly. Otherwise we will be screaming until eternity.

In Sickness and in Health..

The Sick Child 1885-6 (Edvard Munch)

Oil on canvas 47 x 46cm

I was speaking to a friend tonight, regarding the game that we were watching; Liverpool v Wigan. My friend, let's call him Andy, was interrupted by his mobile telephone's annoying ring...

".Er... Excuse me, Will, he said "It's Josie", apologising for the abrupt exit as he moved outside to take the call.

On his return, I advised him that, apart from dire emergencies:ie.deaths in her family, or the equivalant, that mobiles should be turned off when Liverpool are playing.

He rightly apologised, and humbly took his seat.

As it happened, Liverpool won an innocuous game whereby, I have to say, I would have been happier to have spent the rest of the evening conversing with Josie, or even her mother, or an orang utan, rather than watch the mindless boring rubbish served up by the Liverpool manager, Benitez, and his Squad of useless individuals.

*

If Torres is on the bench, and fit; then why play him for 15 minutes?

And, If we pay XX (I think that it was 18 million pound, but I checked the Liverpool website, and they appear to be embarrased to announce the actual cost) for the midfielder Aquilani, who's fit to play but on the bench.Why buy him?

I hate Man Utd

I hate Chelsea

I hate all the other fucking teams, but how come, for instance, Chelsea can disgard two managers after Miserable Morinho ( I know that I have spelt that wrong,but bare with me) and still be top of the Premiership.

Something is wrong somewhere higher up.

One year ago, Tottenham Hotspurs were being managed by some asshole who is now managing on the continent. They had 8 points from 12 games

'Arry took over and now the Spurs are above Liverpool, what does that tell us?

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Sick Child Indeed!

I Can't Take Much More of This!

Worn Out at Eternity's Gate (After Vincent van Gogh), 2007

Pen and wash, 40 x 30cm

(Double click to enlarge)

As you pass through life you have love affairs, many are fruitful, hopefully more fruitful than barren. But, after the initial 9 ½ week period of sexual bliss, if nothing materialises to sustain a long relationship, then you must call it a day, hej då, goodbye, adieu, the sex was great, but we are not going to make it.. in the long run.

So. Goodbye, Benitez. If you were my lover, you would have been kicked into touch 6 weeks ago, after the Lyon disaster. Like a mother-in-law, you have overstayed your welcome. Now fuck off.

The Logic of Fat

I weighed myself this morning. I was 94.8 Kg. This excited me as I had not been under 95 Kg. for....Oh... 'kin years.
I was pleased, because when man has found new love, he exercises and diets to become someone he really is not.

It is exactly the same when love dies, men will then diet and exercise to entice a lover.
I returned tonight from my ale house of choice, after a further evening of frustrated tension, having watched Liverpool FC once again been humiliated by a "lower" team, Birmingham.
Although I drank more beverages than was necessary, I am aggrieved to report that on my return home I discovered that I am now 98.6Kg
How can this be? Over the period of the day, I have not indulged in nothing more fatty than a few meat balls afore I ventured out; yet I have gained almost 4 Kg. since my first mornings urination.
Having assessed the problem; I can only come to the conclusion that if Liverpool had bought back Michael Owen, Liverpool would not be in the dire situation they are now. Liverpool would have won. I would have drank less. Therefore, weigh less.
Liverpool have no cover when Torres is injured. This year will be the worst season in their history for 50 years. Their worst since before Bill Shankly was manager.
Anyway, I believe that the fact that Liverpool did not buy back Michael Owen is the reason for my gain in weight.