Joseph Michael Allen

I've just got back from Karate and heard that the mighty reds have signed Jospeh Michael Allen for a pittance. It must be a pittance because I read that Brendan Aloisious Pious Rodgers said that he would have paid many millions more for the lad.

And now I'm confident.

I'm confident for the season ahead. Confident because we now have a manager who can find a bargain where the big boys go shopping. A diamond in the rough. A lolly stick in a dog shit. A malteser in a bag of Revels.

A Spaniard in sheeps clothing.

Once I'd seen what the best young manager in world football could do in our first two games of the season I knew I was witnessing history being made. I knew I was seeing genius at work. Genius that was exploding all over Anfield. Genius that was ejaculating with real purpose and drive around the hallowed halls. And to add to that the best piece of business we've ever seen just proves how astute I am. I'm astute because I'm a fan of Liverpool Football Club.

And we're the most astute fans in the history of carbon based lifeforms.

We are the kind of fans that can take a player to the next level. We are the fans that can lift a human being to heights never seen before. I personally am the kind of fan that can do all this and more for Joseph Michael Allen.

I will start by gently caressing his neck. I'll whisper gently into his ear that we've won it five times. I'll remind him of the day at Chelsea a billion years ago when the King clinched the title. As he lightly moans and melts as the enormity of these achievements rolls over him like a gentle wave on a sun kissed Caribbean beach, I'll nibble his ear and pull him closer. I'm holding him firmer now. As I wrap my legs around him, I forcefully, through slightly gritted teeth, remind him that Liverpool Football Club are the most successful British Club in Europe.

And that we've won it five times.

I can feel him yielding to me as I continue with my seduction. He wants me to take control. He wants me to drive him on. We've both gone too far to stop now. He thinks the time is not right just yet but he knows it's coming. He knows there is no turning back. I just have to make it happen with the right move at the right time. I have to make him want to accept it.

So I tell him that we've won it five times. And that seals the deal.

As he opens up to me I gently find my way and thrust inside him. He gasps slightly at the enormity of my dedication as a fan of Liverpool Football Club and breathes in deeply as my love of the mighty reds fills him up. My enthusiasm opens up tiny fissures in his anal cavity that yield the red of our famous club.

Liverpool Football Club.

And as I begin to pound away at a machine gun rate, I know that this consumation will herald a new dawn for the greatest football club that has ever existed. It all becomes clear to Joseph Michael Allen too. He knows that with me bumming him ragged he'll never want for love or support from us great fans. And that by being bummed ragged by me, he is truly at one with the greatest fans ever known to exist.

And then we do it five times. Just so he understands what it means to play for this great club.

Liverpool Football Club.

1954

We look back in time to RAWK in 1954 when Liverpool Football Club unbelievably were relegated from the old first division. It also happened in the same year that Everton were promoted to the first division.

Today is a devastating day in the lives of all fans of Liverpool Football Club. We had to suffer the terrible days of the blitz, when our chippies were bombed all over the show. We had to suffer rationing, when all we had to eat was a bit of powdered egg, and bits of our ration book, seemingly made from the same paper they use for raffle tickets.

And today we lost the raffle of life.

When I had both of my legs shattered by falling shrapnel as a howitzer flattened my coal bunker, my pain was immense. When the doctor, cigarillo in hand, administered a whisky tincture to the terrible wounds I passed out from the searing hell produced by the receptors in my brain. I thought nothing could feel more terrible than those dark days.

But I was wrong.

Because today a bomb has gone off in my heart. A bomb dropped by the Nazis of modern football. A bomb produced by the hateful blighters at the daily periodicals. A bomb that has left this great club - Liverpool Football Club - in a crater of hurt. A crater of shame. A crater of pain.

But we shall return. This great club and its great fans. The greatest fans in the civilised world, will be back once again. To stare into the eyes of the great clubs. West Bromwich Albion, Wolverhampton Wanderers and the mighty Huddersfield Town. We will once again stroll into the privileged rich heartlands of England and come away with the 2 points.

Because Liverpool Football Club never give in. Even when our legs have been horribly shattered and deformed.

We'll meet again,
Don't know where,
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day
Keep smiling through,
Just like our fans always do
Till the Redmen drive the dark clouds far away

So will you please say "Hello"
To the fans that I know
Tell them I won't be long
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go
I was singing this song

We'll meet again,
Don't know where,
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

We'll meet again,
Don't know where
Don't know when.
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.
Keep smiling through
Just like you always do,
'Til the Redmen
Drive the dark clouds far away
So will you please say"Hello"
To the fans that I know.
Tell them it won't be long.
They'll be happy to know
That as you saw me go,
I was singin' this song.

We'll meet again,
Don't know where,
Don't know when
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day