ECHO Comment: "Fears of Witch-hunt Against Liverpool FC"

[Brennan]

11 in the league, Bren's beefing up his stats with goals vs exeter and brighton.

11 in the league, in 31 games. Still good.

 

[bluejock]

How many shots at goal did he have per goal scored that season?

I'm betting it was rather high.

 

[paulbefc]

I am crying and shaking right now.

I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.

Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?

I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.

Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?

Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I – I who have nothing…

All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.

In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.

And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?

The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?

You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.

And in the still of the night I cry and shake.

And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…

Someone post this on RAWK immediately.

 

[Ruairi77]

Great work ScouseBlueBoy,
How does his suspension work? Is it just premier league games or is it any competitive game in Europe? If so, would anyone interested not just risk it and wait till the end of the window?

 

[chicoazul]

I am crying and shaking right now.

I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.

Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?

I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.

Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?

Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I – I who have nothing…

All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.

In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.

And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?

The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?

You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.

And in the still of the night I cry and shake.

And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…

I'm applauding reading this. Brilliant mate.

 

[bluemangroup]

I am crying and shaking right now.

I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.

Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?

I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.

Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?

Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I-I who have nothing...

All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.

In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.

And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?

The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?

You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.

And in the still of the night I cry and shake.

And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…

Brilliant again mate.
Please tell me i wasnt the only one who started singing the bit in bold.

 

[FTY]

I'd take him on a world tour, ending in Ghana, charging people £10 a pop to chuck a watermelon at him.

LolZ.

RAWK btw, not me.

 

[Raymondo077]

They let Batfink go then sign Tevez FFSs!!!

 

[Jags..class]

Met a rs last night who believes that Brendon Rodgers is going to bid for Rooney as soon as they sell Ratboy

 

[billybinghamsboy]

I am crying and shaking right now.

I am Cathy’s ghost at the window of my Heathcliff, crying out to be heard. Heathcliff turns and heeds my call, rampaging through the door onto the open windswept moor. Reaching for my love.

Except Luis is not Heathcliff. Luis stands motionless by the fire, staring into the flames. Does he hear my call? Is he oblivious?

I am cast aside. I could be his love, but I am not Cathy. No. I am Ann Field. My love rages with the passion of a solar fire burning blood red. Liverpool red.

Luis loves another and I am spurned. Did he ever really love me? Am I simply fooling myself? Sometimes it seems like I’m like that bloke off that Game Of Thrones who protects Danerys. He really loves her but she fancies that bloke in the skirt who cut his mates’ heads off. Did I ever stand a chance?

Oh Luis, you made me a believer and now you cruelly take it all away. I – I who have nothing…

All I ever wanted to do was love you. Is that such a crime? You sneer with your callous lips – lips that I longed to kiss into the small hours. I would have made you the mother of all ‘fry-ups’ if you would only betroth your sardonic heart to me.

In the balmy Summer eve I lie prostrate across my ‘Pistolero’ bedspread. I stare at the ceiling until all is a blur. I see you kissing the badge – but it’s not the Liver Bird. It’s a cannon. A big cannon. Then I see you standing by a big cannon, stroking it mockingly as you look into my eyes and laugh like a Mexican bandit in a film – with Mexican bandits in it. That big laugh they all do.

And you are laughing at me. You are laughing at Kenny. You are laughing at Aldo. Stevie signs a new contract and you go ‘tra-la-la’. Doesn’t anything mean anything to you?

The moments we spent together? Were we just a stop gap, like a quick knee-trembler in the Grafton car park, while you were waiting for a proper fit bird to enter your life?

You fell and we picked you up, like a wounded songbird. You railed against the world and we nestled you in our bosom. You bit some vermin and we protected you like a skinhead hiding his rotty from the bizzies. And for what? You bolted all the Pedigree Chum we could feed you only to run off into the night.

And in the still of the night I cry and shake.

And more wood is thrown into the bin. The flames rise. I disrobe…

Brilliant, you should do this sort of stuff for a living.

 

[ScouseBlueBoy]

Brilliant, you should do this sort of stuff for a living.

Thanks, but I can't imagine who would pay me.

 

[Clint Planet]

Great work ScouseBlueBoy,
How does his suspension work? Is it just premier league games or is it any competitive game in Europe? If so, would anyone interested not just risk it and wait till the end of the window?

It's everywhere. He can't run from this one.

Nice work, SBB. You had me crying and shaking.

 

[Pblueman]

SBB that is fantastic ladz had me rolling laughing

 

[Mikey_Fitzgerald]

SBB has out done himself

Cracking stuff!

 

[Mikey_Fitzgerald]

This one actually worried me