From a life long Liverpool fan. His comments humbled me and made me realise the power of the Liverpool family.
<Wtf is this blog? Are you taking the piss? I've already put the word out and we're currently organising an email campaign to have this blog shut down. It is disrespectful to the millions of proud fans of Liverpool Football club the world over. If you persist with this abhorrence we will hound you until you are forced to take action. Be warned, the Liverpool family is not a group you want to get on the wrong side of. We have taken on more formidable foes than you and come out on the winning side!>
Reply by BawkatRawk
<Dear xxxxxxxx
You're right. I'm sorry if my blog posts are offensive to you or you've taken them the wrong way. It's just that I have such strong feelings for Liverpool football Club, King Kenny and the Liverpool family that sometimes I get carried away - I am often brought to the brink of orgasm by the strength of my feelings and feel the need to release them before I release something marginally less sticky and disgusting.
As I lay helpless before you like a cowering Bulgarian, please smash the paving slab of forgiveness over my head, before shinning up the drain pipe of absolution, and taking your place where you belong - and were all along - in the bed of righteousness. >
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Charles Graham Adam
When the news came through on RAWK that Charlie Adam has signed for Liverpool Football club I was elated. I felt such a feeling of joy in my heart that I had a pseudo religious experience. Into a large man-sized tissue, that I had - at the last minute - found in my Wrangler jeans.
And then it all became so clear.
I suddenly felt at one with the world. I felt that my body and soul were part of a greater system of existence. I felt that I was on a higher plane and that nothing could ever supersede this feeling. Not even being given a large multi-pack of Flamin' hot Monster Munch. It was then that I truly began to understand what it is to be human.
And what it is about Liverpool Football Club that transends the mortal human soul.
You see, Charlie Adam did not have control over his feelings. Like a teenager in the flush of first love, Charles Graham Adam's head was in the clouds the moment he heard of the King's interest. He could not sleep. He could not eat. He could only think of the king and Liverpool Football Club.
Like a moth drawn to the light, like a bored man drawn to midget porn on the internet, and like a salmon drawn upstream to the calm pools of the mating chamber, Charles Graham Adam was drawn to the hallowed halls of Anfield.
Into the chamber of the King.
As King Kenny delicately, yet masterfully, intricately yet forcefully, passively yet directly assembles a title winning side he somehow takes on an ethereal quality. He rises above the minnions, scratching around at ground level for the dregs of the football world. He rises above us all and we raise our faces to him in trembling awe.
Ready for what He has to give us. All over our grills.
I pray to him and give thanks.
Dear King Kenny
This Gift...
Thank you for this gift,
Which you've bestowed to us,
This gift is life,
Life Eternally
Creation by your hands,
And the blood of your wrist.
I beg of you,
To live your life,
For all of those,
Who've been deprived.
I beg of you,
To live your life,
For those who've cried,
and been deprived
Of This precious gift,
The most precious gift,
The gift of Charles Graham Adam
And then it all became so clear.
I suddenly felt at one with the world. I felt that my body and soul were part of a greater system of existence. I felt that I was on a higher plane and that nothing could ever supersede this feeling. Not even being given a large multi-pack of Flamin' hot Monster Munch. It was then that I truly began to understand what it is to be human.
And what it is about Liverpool Football Club that transends the mortal human soul.
You see, Charlie Adam did not have control over his feelings. Like a teenager in the flush of first love, Charles Graham Adam's head was in the clouds the moment he heard of the King's interest. He could not sleep. He could not eat. He could only think of the king and Liverpool Football Club.
Like a moth drawn to the light, like a bored man drawn to midget porn on the internet, and like a salmon drawn upstream to the calm pools of the mating chamber, Charles Graham Adam was drawn to the hallowed halls of Anfield.
Into the chamber of the King.
As King Kenny delicately, yet masterfully, intricately yet forcefully, passively yet directly assembles a title winning side he somehow takes on an ethereal quality. He rises above the minnions, scratching around at ground level for the dregs of the football world. He rises above us all and we raise our faces to him in trembling awe.
Ready for what He has to give us. All over our grills.
I pray to him and give thanks.
Dear King Kenny
This Gift...
Thank you for this gift,
Which you've bestowed to us,
This gift is life,
Life Eternally
Creation by your hands,
And the blood of your wrist.
I beg of you,
To live your life,
For all of those,
Who've been deprived.
I beg of you,
To live your life,
For those who've cried,
and been deprived
Of This precious gift,
The most precious gift,
The gift of Charles Graham Adam
Stevie G laaaaaaa to miss tour of Asia
When I heard that Stevie G will miss the tour of Asia I was worried. I haven't been able to sleep thinking about it. About the fact that our talisman, our leader, our hero, the pinacle of all of our hopes and dreams - may be unable to carry on.
Just as Liverpool football club embark on a season that will bring the Premier League trophy to Anfield I'm concerned. I'm more concerned than I was when the surgeons told me my son would never walk again. He was knocked down on the high street of a small northern provincial town completely unassociated with Liverpool Football Club. But his tears that day remind me of my own now as the gravity of this potential situation sit heavily on my already burdened shoulders.
My son never did walk again - but that crushing event can get nowhere near the enormity of the fact that the great Stevie G - all power, drive and stylish hair - may be coming to the end of his glorious medal laden career. As I sit with a heavy heart I cannot summon the energy to lift my son out of his wheelchair to administer his daily wash. As he looks at me with confusion in a pile of his own faeces I know that somewhere inside his damaged brain he understands his father's pain. And that makes me proud to be his father - and a fan of Liverpool football club.
But then I stare at pictures of the King. As my tears tumble upon his glorious image I sense that He can turn this all around. Just like a newborn baby struggling to survive, skin on skin contact from the mother can breathe new life into the child.
And King Kenny and Stevie G have a bond stronger than that between mother and child.
So dear King Kenny. Please, for the love of Stevie G tear off your shirt and expose your bare chest. Take Stevie G's groin and press it against the warmth of your body. Gently cradle the injured groin. Breathe new life into the injured area. Perhaps, take your healing hand and gently cup Sir Stevie of Gerrard. Cup him until the pain and tears go away.
Cup him until you launch his ejaculate far enough to usher in a new era for Steven Gerrard.
And a new era for Liverpool Football Club.
Kenny's hands are kind hands,
doing good to all,
Healing pain and sickness,
blessing Stevie's balls,
Washing tired feet and saving
those who fall;
Kenny's hands are kind hands,
doing good to all.
Take my hands, King Kenny,
let them work for you;
Make them strong and gentle,
kind in all I do;
Let me watch you, Kenny,
till I’m gentle too,
Till my hands are kind hands,
quick to work for you.
Just as Liverpool football club embark on a season that will bring the Premier League trophy to Anfield I'm concerned. I'm more concerned than I was when the surgeons told me my son would never walk again. He was knocked down on the high street of a small northern provincial town completely unassociated with Liverpool Football Club. But his tears that day remind me of my own now as the gravity of this potential situation sit heavily on my already burdened shoulders.
My son never did walk again - but that crushing event can get nowhere near the enormity of the fact that the great Stevie G - all power, drive and stylish hair - may be coming to the end of his glorious medal laden career. As I sit with a heavy heart I cannot summon the energy to lift my son out of his wheelchair to administer his daily wash. As he looks at me with confusion in a pile of his own faeces I know that somewhere inside his damaged brain he understands his father's pain. And that makes me proud to be his father - and a fan of Liverpool football club.
But then I stare at pictures of the King. As my tears tumble upon his glorious image I sense that He can turn this all around. Just like a newborn baby struggling to survive, skin on skin contact from the mother can breathe new life into the child.
And King Kenny and Stevie G have a bond stronger than that between mother and child.
So dear King Kenny. Please, for the love of Stevie G tear off your shirt and expose your bare chest. Take Stevie G's groin and press it against the warmth of your body. Gently cradle the injured groin. Breathe new life into the injured area. Perhaps, take your healing hand and gently cup Sir Stevie of Gerrard. Cup him until the pain and tears go away.
Cup him until you launch his ejaculate far enough to usher in a new era for Steven Gerrard.
And a new era for Liverpool Football Club.
Kenny's hands are kind hands,
doing good to all,
Healing pain and sickness,
blessing Stevie's balls,
Washing tired feet and saving
those who fall;
Kenny's hands are kind hands,
doing good to all.
Take my hands, King Kenny,
let them work for you;
Make them strong and gentle,
kind in all I do;
Let me watch you, Kenny,
till I’m gentle too,
Till my hands are kind hands,
quick to work for you.
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