lol
The Secret Diary of Aldo Aged 61 1/2
- Thread starter Yarrgh
- Start date
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PaulPowersTash
Player Valuation: £15m
Sharp as a tack is our Aldo.
Not a lot gets past him...
https://www.independent.ie/sport/so...ing-and-put-faith-in-jordan-ibe-31342872.html
Not a lot gets past him...
https://www.independent.ie/sport/so...ing-and-put-faith-in-jordan-ibe-31342872.html
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
25/05/2020
11:00am BIG NEWS! The premier league is restarting. So says Little Dik Masters of the premier league on the 26th June! The heroic red men are walking into Smellwood (classic wordplay from McAteer there after Big Raze let rip). They have to walk in alone of course. And their heads aren't held up high because they've run out of Speziale Brau and the storm is coming from a 5G tower so they should be afraid because I heard it turns you gay from some lad at the Lisbon who I was scoffing a knob with. Other than that - business as usual!
11:01am: John Henry is straight onto it! Aldo mate, I've booked Ryanair flights from Kuala Lumpar and Oslo for the 12th June so the neutral customers can have their 2 weeks of quarantine before they go to Anfield to witness the away game to them bitter bloos. That's hardly fair I say - to play dem bitters away from home first game up and in front of an empty stadium that only has foreign customers in it. True says JH, but he is arguing that the game counts double and that the Everton players should all play in zorb suits to allow der mighty redz a fair chance.
11:30am: Bloody hell, more news! Alan Green has only just moved in next door. Been sacked off by the BBC for being too bloody neutral even when he has the honour of commentating on der redmen. To welcome him I go around with a tray of biscuits and some special brew. The biscuits are a bit hard, but Alan Green tells me that my hard knob is delish and he could chew on it for hours. Nice one Alan!
Noon: Alan and me are treated to the sight of Souey giving Paul Pogba a piggy back ride down the road. It reminds me of a lovely statue of Emilyn being carried by Bob Paisley. I know that Bill Beaumont said that Emilyn was a right cu, and even Bob might have stuck the nut in some old geezer, but it's a beautiful scene showing what the red tradition is all about. A gobsh*te on the back of an old crook? says Alan - well I almost choked on a knob at that comment. What's Greeno like? He's outrageous!
2:00pm A telegram from Guatemala! El FC Merdarossa are coming to play against the mighty reds in a Championes* of der werld game the week before the re-start! Wow! This may be the greatest day ever. El Jurgo has offered for us to all go and enjoy some of his elaborar especial before the game. What a hombre! Now that's respecto! He says that he will teach us all some games they play in Guatemala such as empujar fuente and masturbase semaforo publico. Sounds brilliant. He says that he will show me the secrets of Naranja desaliñada before the derby game to bring us extra luck. Call the lads at the Big Fat Aldo Respecto March and tell them we can have the reds pre-season opener as the highlight of the march. They love it! Brilliant. Can this day get any better?
3:00pm Moaning from that bitter mayor. Your tears are like speziale brau you pie eating nugget. We're having a march culminating in a big knob eating at Anfield with a bit of football - how can you say that's an unauthorised gathering you meff. You are blocked!
4:00pm Our Joan is back from the shops and the Special brew is on offer and she's got us 19 cans. She says she knows that I can finish them off. I tell yer, the daft cow has me tearing up when she does that. None of that Ainsley Harriot sized love appendages - where did that come from?
5:00pm Kenny is on the phone. The poor sod still isn't showing any symptoms. His doctors say he might have to live with having no symptoms for the rest of his life. I can't even let that set in I'm so upset. Damn you chinese fru.
7:00pm ITV is showing our last league victory against Arsenal. Brilliant stuff. I don't remember it well due to my being dropped on the head repeatedly as a child.
7:15pm Bloody hell, this is gripping! Just got keep it tight here. Poor ol' Rushie there getting subbed - all the more glory for me!
7:19pm Is right Stevey M. We cannot let this slip. Only 1 minute to go.
7:22pm Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. Fudge nuggets. Spaghetti Legs you effing plank.
7:25pm Soft southern jessies there ruining a magical game (TM) at Anfield and having the gall to pick up the trophy. Absolute disgrace. My bad touch there was actually a crafty pass but no one else was on the same wavelength as me - I was wasted on that lot. I am in a foul mood now.
8:00pm The twins Keiran and Kookookachoo come around and cheer me right up. They have a routine where one leaves and the other enters and thenpretends to not know about the other and do the same thing as the one who has just left. Brilliant stuff. Should be on the tv.
9:00pm Can't stay mad for long. It's been great, the special brew, the lads, Al Green, the premier league starting up and the game against El jurgo's boys from South America. Marvellous. I have a feeling that the next month's build up to the derby match may be el classico stuff.
11:00pm Fall asleep in the front room and our Joan wake us up for bed. Still can't get that 19th one finished off our John? Get lost. Leave it a while and I'll finish it off later.
*obvs when the Guatemalan league takes a lead from the English league and finish it off then it'll be the Championes de champions. Yerrs, gerrin der redmen.
11:00am BIG NEWS! The premier league is restarting. So says Little Dik Masters of the premier league on the 26th June! The heroic red men are walking into Smellwood (classic wordplay from McAteer there after Big Raze let rip). They have to walk in alone of course. And their heads aren't held up high because they've run out of Speziale Brau and the storm is coming from a 5G tower so they should be afraid because I heard it turns you gay from some lad at the Lisbon who I was scoffing a knob with. Other than that - business as usual!
11:01am: John Henry is straight onto it! Aldo mate, I've booked Ryanair flights from Kuala Lumpar and Oslo for the 12th June so the neutral customers can have their 2 weeks of quarantine before they go to Anfield to witness the away game to them bitter bloos. That's hardly fair I say - to play dem bitters away from home first game up and in front of an empty stadium that only has foreign customers in it. True says JH, but he is arguing that the game counts double and that the Everton players should all play in zorb suits to allow der mighty redz a fair chance.
11:30am: Bloody hell, more news! Alan Green has only just moved in next door. Been sacked off by the BBC for being too bloody neutral even when he has the honour of commentating on der redmen. To welcome him I go around with a tray of biscuits and some special brew. The biscuits are a bit hard, but Alan Green tells me that my hard knob is delish and he could chew on it for hours. Nice one Alan!
Noon: Alan and me are treated to the sight of Souey giving Paul Pogba a piggy back ride down the road. It reminds me of a lovely statue of Emilyn being carried by Bob Paisley. I know that Bill Beaumont said that Emilyn was a right cu, and even Bob might have stuck the nut in some old geezer, but it's a beautiful scene showing what the red tradition is all about. A gobsh*te on the back of an old crook? says Alan - well I almost choked on a knob at that comment. What's Greeno like? He's outrageous!
2:00pm A telegram from Guatemala! El FC Merdarossa are coming to play against the mighty reds in a Championes* of der werld game the week before the re-start! Wow! This may be the greatest day ever. El Jurgo has offered for us to all go and enjoy some of his elaborar especial before the game. What a hombre! Now that's respecto! He says that he will teach us all some games they play in Guatemala such as empujar fuente and masturbase semaforo publico. Sounds brilliant. He says that he will show me the secrets of Naranja desaliñada before the derby game to bring us extra luck. Call the lads at the Big Fat Aldo Respecto March and tell them we can have the reds pre-season opener as the highlight of the march. They love it! Brilliant. Can this day get any better?
3:00pm Moaning from that bitter mayor. Your tears are like speziale brau you pie eating nugget. We're having a march culminating in a big knob eating at Anfield with a bit of football - how can you say that's an unauthorised gathering you meff. You are blocked!
4:00pm Our Joan is back from the shops and the Special brew is on offer and she's got us 19 cans. She says she knows that I can finish them off. I tell yer, the daft cow has me tearing up when she does that. None of that Ainsley Harriot sized love appendages - where did that come from?
5:00pm Kenny is on the phone. The poor sod still isn't showing any symptoms. His doctors say he might have to live with having no symptoms for the rest of his life. I can't even let that set in I'm so upset. Damn you chinese fru.
7:00pm ITV is showing our last league victory against Arsenal. Brilliant stuff. I don't remember it well due to my being dropped on the head repeatedly as a child.
7:15pm Bloody hell, this is gripping! Just got keep it tight here. Poor ol' Rushie there getting subbed - all the more glory for me!
7:19pm Is right Stevey M. We cannot let this slip. Only 1 minute to go.
7:22pm Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo. Fudge nuggets. Spaghetti Legs you effing plank.
7:25pm Soft southern jessies there ruining a magical game (TM) at Anfield and having the gall to pick up the trophy. Absolute disgrace. My bad touch there was actually a crafty pass but no one else was on the same wavelength as me - I was wasted on that lot. I am in a foul mood now.
8:00pm The twins Keiran and Kookookachoo come around and cheer me right up. They have a routine where one leaves and the other enters and thenpretends to not know about the other and do the same thing as the one who has just left. Brilliant stuff. Should be on the tv.
9:00pm Can't stay mad for long. It's been great, the special brew, the lads, Al Green, the premier league starting up and the game against El jurgo's boys from South America. Marvellous. I have a feeling that the next month's build up to the derby match may be el classico stuff.
11:00pm Fall asleep in the front room and our Joan wake us up for bed. Still can't get that 19th one finished off our John? Get lost. Leave it a while and I'll finish it off later.
*obvs when the Guatemalan league takes a lead from the English league and finish it off then it'll be the Championes de champions. Yerrs, gerrin der redmen.
" The Twins " lol
peteblue
Welcome back Wayne
The may actually have been triplets.....
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
I
I've flicked through and there's more going on than at a big purp greased up massage.The secret motivational speech of Shankley is revealed. FSG vs the Sons of Shankley come to blows. A pride march that brings nothing but shame with the most infamous koppite perhaps in history. And perhaps the most shocking revelations when we see redz admit guilt over their horrendous litany of destruction.
I will translate the first diary entry for the derby match and merdarossa league celebration match. I just hope that the mods don't ban me such is the shocking nature of the disry. Not since Souness gave his interviews to the S*n has the lid been blown off football! I'd stake Aldo's Echo Journalist of the Year award on it.
Spoiler alert: Kenny is still showing no symptoms!!!
I've just came across a discarded diary in the bush at the bottom of my garden surrounded by pigeon feathers, old cans of special brew and hastily nibbled knobs. I haven't translated it yet but it starts at the derby day disaster and ends on the last game of the season with Chelsea with the trophy being handed out.
I've flicked through and there's more going on than at a big purp greased up massage.The secret motivational speech of Shankley is revealed. FSG vs the Sons of Shankley come to blows. A pride march that brings nothing but shame with the most infamous koppite perhaps in history. And perhaps the most shocking revelations when we see redz admit guilt over their horrendous litany of destruction.
I will translate the first diary entry for the derby match and merdarossa league celebration match. I just hope that the mods don't ban me such is the shocking nature of the disry. Not since Souness gave his interviews to the S*n has the lid been blown off football! I'd stake Aldo's Echo Journalist of the Year award on it.
Spoiler alert: Kenny is still showing no symptoms!!!
PaulPowersTash
Player Valuation: £15m
His doctors say he might have to live with having no symptoms for the rest of his life. 
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 1*: 17th June
It’s back! Live on Sky TV. Spitty, I mean Carra is on and telling us how much it means. Don’t tell me lad, it means more. Much more. First up is the traditional asterisk charity shield opener. Champions Elect – der pool fc versus Guatemalan stalwarts Merdarossa led by El Jurgo. They have decided to go with an expansive line up of Sean Dundee and Marco Veronino up front backed up by Aquilanio behind them. Man mountain El Razo is in the heart of defence but I think if we can get at Kariushino in goal, the redmen have a chance!
In the audience are players from our next game- Tom Davies and Yerry Mina. Eff of Shaggy, Eff of Scooby Doo! No respecto for you! Let any old riff raff play for them.
It’s a great game, and Dundee is a real handful. Fortunately, Milner still has the stamina of a 30 year old but the lack of spezial brau is telling now. Mane literally can only run a marathon before he hits the wall. Firminho has struggled during lockdown and his teeth are now a dull yellow. We could be in trouble here. Matters are livened up when El Jurgo pops a ball boy one in the chops. El passione! Our makeshift coaching squad of King Kenny (struggling through even though his symptoms haven’t even shown yet), Steve McMahon and Stevie Gee are doing all they can to get them to go onwards. It’s a tough tough game.
At the end of the game it’s 3-3 with a hat trick from Sean Dundee. John Robertson nicked one despite the chip on his shoulder developing at an alarming rate. Virge picked up one, but he looks to have lost a yard of pace, maybe it’s Siggurdson’s syndrome where you lose your pace when you hit 30 and pick up a fat wedge until you retire irregardless? And who else to score but everyone’s fave Mo Mo!
It’s a bit surreal but there’s no one here who can speak English apart from Tom Davies in the crowd. He’s doing his best Shaggy routine for sure – ‘Curious Yerry, El Jurgo talks about ceveza speziale, heavy metal football and hits ballboys and he accidently went into the home changing room as if it was by habit. What do you say Yerry?’ ‘I won’t whoa Wommy.’ Says the tall Columbian. Bloody jokers dem bitter bloos.
Then it’s off to City who must have bribed their way to the win. Where’s the Arteta money Pep? Effing hell. A one nil win from that scoundrel Raheem Stirliing who disgracefully dedicates it to his mum. What a rat!
Liverpool: GD +45 Points 82
Oilmen: GD +38 Points 60
It’s back! Live on Sky TV. Spitty, I mean Carra is on and telling us how much it means. Don’t tell me lad, it means more. Much more. First up is the traditional asterisk charity shield opener. Champions Elect – der pool fc versus Guatemalan stalwarts Merdarossa led by El Jurgo. They have decided to go with an expansive line up of Sean Dundee and Marco Veronino up front backed up by Aquilanio behind them. Man mountain El Razo is in the heart of defence but I think if we can get at Kariushino in goal, the redmen have a chance!
In the audience are players from our next game- Tom Davies and Yerry Mina. Eff of Shaggy, Eff of Scooby Doo! No respecto for you! Let any old riff raff play for them.
It’s a great game, and Dundee is a real handful. Fortunately, Milner still has the stamina of a 30 year old but the lack of spezial brau is telling now. Mane literally can only run a marathon before he hits the wall. Firminho has struggled during lockdown and his teeth are now a dull yellow. We could be in trouble here. Matters are livened up when El Jurgo pops a ball boy one in the chops. El passione! Our makeshift coaching squad of King Kenny (struggling through even though his symptoms haven’t even shown yet), Steve McMahon and Stevie Gee are doing all they can to get them to go onwards. It’s a tough tough game.
At the end of the game it’s 3-3 with a hat trick from Sean Dundee. John Robertson nicked one despite the chip on his shoulder developing at an alarming rate. Virge picked up one, but he looks to have lost a yard of pace, maybe it’s Siggurdson’s syndrome where you lose your pace when you hit 30 and pick up a fat wedge until you retire irregardless? And who else to score but everyone’s fave Mo Mo!
It’s a bit surreal but there’s no one here who can speak English apart from Tom Davies in the crowd. He’s doing his best Shaggy routine for sure – ‘Curious Yerry, El Jurgo talks about ceveza speziale, heavy metal football and hits ballboys and he accidently went into the home changing room as if it was by habit. What do you say Yerry?’ ‘I won’t whoa Wommy.’ Says the tall Columbian. Bloody jokers dem bitter bloos.
Then it’s off to City who must have bribed their way to the win. Where’s the Arteta money Pep? Effing hell. A one nil win from that scoundrel Raheem Stirliing who disgracefully dedicates it to his mum. What a rat!
Liverpool: GD +45 Points 82
Oilmen: GD +38 Points 60
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 2*: 21/22 June
Another rip snorter of a tie. Led by new redmen manager – El Jurgo! He took over the job after the Asterisk Shield Match and has overseen the resurgence of the redmen in training by careful application of speziale brau.
Not a sound at the ground, and it’s odd – perhaps they should print out the words to You’ll Never Walk Alone like they do at the original and best footy ground in the city! Fortunately we have filled Anfield with loads of people who have come up to watch the jumbotron and eat Madras curry – apparently that’s a thing now – all thanks to me. I’m at Anfield too, and on commentary duties is Alan Green! Get in.
Milner is rolling back the years and running past Morgan and Gylfi like they have concrete boots on. Mugs! It’s soon a goal to the redmen when Mo Salah slips one in. Nice one Mo! And then it’s 2-0 as newboy Curtis Jones wails on the Everton defence like his sister on a 13 year old. Blam! And then to make it complete, the first half is finished when a corner kick is trapped by Lovren and rockets from his cushioned touch straight past Pickford. Woo hoo!
You can see that fat pie snorting wizard Joe Anderson is fuming. He’s there at protest to hand over the trophy which City said they would concede when we win. But what’s this Carlo Ancelotti is saying something to Tom Davies and Yerry Mina? And now they’re conferring with Mayor Anderson. Looks like they’re saying to give the trophy out at Goodison Park. Alan Green is starting a version of “We won the league at Goodison Park” over the jumbotron. Magnificent.
Up walks El Jurgo, and just as he gets there Davies says not so fast, and yanks off El Jurgo’s mask – It’s actually Jurgen Klopp! I am absolutely shocked. I’m so shocked that the knob I’m guzzling shoots out all over my chin. Tom Davies tells how he deduced it was Jurgen. Mayor Anderson tells the police to take him away as he’s still being sought over illegally smuggling PEDs to Belorussia before Aldofest. Surely that’s more something Chelsea managers would be doing? El Jurgo has one last gurn at the camera, “And I would have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for you meddling kinders!”
Well just lets say that the second half didn’t go as planned. Apparently the second half cerveza speciale was in El Kloppo’s kit bag that got confiscated. The toll of the first half without any recuperative juice was just too much. Alan Green’s howls of derision were awful as Richarlison nutmegged Lovren to set up tiny Bernard who rolled one under Allison. And then that awful Holgate got tripped by Firminho and this time as there was no crowd, everyone could hear what Roberto said, and he got sent off even though we all know it’s just a sign of affection in latin America. Gylfi Siggurdson then put one in the back of the net after out-accelerating Mane. Bloody hell – it’s a disaster! Then with only a minute to go, Shaggy catwalked his way down the line to set up that hipster doofus Calvert-Lewis to score the equaliser. The only thing you could hear at the red palace was silence, which was broken by the sound of YMCA coming over from their terrible ground. Boooooooo!
I’m without words. And then City win against Burnley. Bloody Sean Dyche’s men in flip flops talking about holidays or staycations in yurts. Disgraceful. Raheem Stirling scores again to make it one-nil. Dedicates it to the peaceful protestors against systemic racism and hopes that the world becomes a better more caring place. Effing hell, the cheek of him – what a scumbag! At least we’re one point closer to the title!
Liverpool: GD +45 Points 84
Moneybag City: GD +40 Points 66
Another rip snorter of a tie. Led by new redmen manager – El Jurgo! He took over the job after the Asterisk Shield Match and has overseen the resurgence of the redmen in training by careful application of speziale brau.
Not a sound at the ground, and it’s odd – perhaps they should print out the words to You’ll Never Walk Alone like they do at the original and best footy ground in the city! Fortunately we have filled Anfield with loads of people who have come up to watch the jumbotron and eat Madras curry – apparently that’s a thing now – all thanks to me. I’m at Anfield too, and on commentary duties is Alan Green! Get in.
Milner is rolling back the years and running past Morgan and Gylfi like they have concrete boots on. Mugs! It’s soon a goal to the redmen when Mo Salah slips one in. Nice one Mo! And then it’s 2-0 as newboy Curtis Jones wails on the Everton defence like his sister on a 13 year old. Blam! And then to make it complete, the first half is finished when a corner kick is trapped by Lovren and rockets from his cushioned touch straight past Pickford. Woo hoo!
You can see that fat pie snorting wizard Joe Anderson is fuming. He’s there at protest to hand over the trophy which City said they would concede when we win. But what’s this Carlo Ancelotti is saying something to Tom Davies and Yerry Mina? And now they’re conferring with Mayor Anderson. Looks like they’re saying to give the trophy out at Goodison Park. Alan Green is starting a version of “We won the league at Goodison Park” over the jumbotron. Magnificent.
Up walks El Jurgo, and just as he gets there Davies says not so fast, and yanks off El Jurgo’s mask – It’s actually Jurgen Klopp! I am absolutely shocked. I’m so shocked that the knob I’m guzzling shoots out all over my chin. Tom Davies tells how he deduced it was Jurgen. Mayor Anderson tells the police to take him away as he’s still being sought over illegally smuggling PEDs to Belorussia before Aldofest. Surely that’s more something Chelsea managers would be doing? El Jurgo has one last gurn at the camera, “And I would have gotten away with it, if it wasn’t for you meddling kinders!”
Well just lets say that the second half didn’t go as planned. Apparently the second half cerveza speciale was in El Kloppo’s kit bag that got confiscated. The toll of the first half without any recuperative juice was just too much. Alan Green’s howls of derision were awful as Richarlison nutmegged Lovren to set up tiny Bernard who rolled one under Allison. And then that awful Holgate got tripped by Firminho and this time as there was no crowd, everyone could hear what Roberto said, and he got sent off even though we all know it’s just a sign of affection in latin America. Gylfi Siggurdson then put one in the back of the net after out-accelerating Mane. Bloody hell – it’s a disaster! Then with only a minute to go, Shaggy catwalked his way down the line to set up that hipster doofus Calvert-Lewis to score the equaliser. The only thing you could hear at the red palace was silence, which was broken by the sound of YMCA coming over from their terrible ground. Boooooooo!
I’m without words. And then City win against Burnley. Bloody Sean Dyche’s men in flip flops talking about holidays or staycations in yurts. Disgraceful. Raheem Stirling scores again to make it one-nil. Dedicates it to the peaceful protestors against systemic racism and hopes that the world becomes a better more caring place. Effing hell, the cheek of him – what a scumbag! At least we’re one point closer to the title!
Liverpool: GD +45 Points 84
Moneybag City: GD +40 Points 66
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 3*: 24/25 June
It’s awful. The wheels have come off the bus. It’s worse than that, it’s like a bus that’s been sat for 30 years for a victory parade and has now seized up because it’s never been used. But us redmen need to rock this bus like its an ambulance carrying an oppo player to get it going again, not attack it with stones like it was a rival’s bus. Anyway I’m getting carried away. Roy Hodgson is back in town. And he’s going against caretaker Kenny. That lousy Gary Neville is saying that’ll it be like watching a pillow fight in a geriatric home. Eff of Neville, what do you know about winning leagues? Get stuffed.
Some say that Crystanbul was our lowest point. But I say to you that the inspired management of Kenny won the day. He struggled through the game with no symptoms, and managed to get us to 3-0 up when Roy Hodgson did what he never did for us and saw his team score 4 quickfire goals as VVD and Lovren had a mare. Trent-Arnold only went and found his level in this match. And that level is conference. How did a player who came from nowhere fall so low? Allison banged his head and is not wandering around like Karius. It’s bloody awful. Make it stop.
And then Chelsea rock up with half a team all out with the Chinese fru so they have to isolate. Apparently they’ll all be back on the 17th for their match against der mighty reds. Not even a greasy massage from Big Purps couldn’t relieve this stress. Our Joan has kicked me out, so I’m back in my ma’s box room until the end of the season. I’ve really gotten to the bottom of my redmen roots now.
City cruised to another 1-0 win. That bloody Raheem Stirling again picking up the winner. “It’s why I moved to City, to be part of a winning team.” He says. Bloody idiot. And then he dedicates it to the NHS and the Chelsea players who are recovering and hopes that everyone in the country and watching get through it safely and that football is only second to us all getting past the Chinese fru. He is one selfish b****. If he was on twitter, I’d block that nugget. Well I would, but only after searching his online history for any ill judged tweets from when he was a kid.
Liverpool: GD +44 Points 83
Cheating Mancs: GD +40 Points 66
It’s awful. The wheels have come off the bus. It’s worse than that, it’s like a bus that’s been sat for 30 years for a victory parade and has now seized up because it’s never been used. But us redmen need to rock this bus like its an ambulance carrying an oppo player to get it going again, not attack it with stones like it was a rival’s bus. Anyway I’m getting carried away. Roy Hodgson is back in town. And he’s going against caretaker Kenny. That lousy Gary Neville is saying that’ll it be like watching a pillow fight in a geriatric home. Eff of Neville, what do you know about winning leagues? Get stuffed.
Some say that Crystanbul was our lowest point. But I say to you that the inspired management of Kenny won the day. He struggled through the game with no symptoms, and managed to get us to 3-0 up when Roy Hodgson did what he never did for us and saw his team score 4 quickfire goals as VVD and Lovren had a mare. Trent-Arnold only went and found his level in this match. And that level is conference. How did a player who came from nowhere fall so low? Allison banged his head and is not wandering around like Karius. It’s bloody awful. Make it stop.
And then Chelsea rock up with half a team all out with the Chinese fru so they have to isolate. Apparently they’ll all be back on the 17th for their match against der mighty reds. Not even a greasy massage from Big Purps couldn’t relieve this stress. Our Joan has kicked me out, so I’m back in my ma’s box room until the end of the season. I’ve really gotten to the bottom of my redmen roots now.
City cruised to another 1-0 win. That bloody Raheem Stirling again picking up the winner. “It’s why I moved to City, to be part of a winning team.” He says. Bloody idiot. And then he dedicates it to the NHS and the Chelsea players who are recovering and hopes that everyone in the country and watching get through it safely and that football is only second to us all getting past the Chinese fru. He is one selfish b****. If he was on twitter, I’d block that nugget. Well I would, but only after searching his online history for any ill judged tweets from when he was a kid.
Liverpool: GD +44 Points 83
Cheating Mancs: GD +40 Points 66
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 4*: 2 July
Whilst everyone is at the Etihad, I am on a secret mission with the A-team. There’s BA Barnes (now I’m not a racist but I pity the fool that thinks that John wouldn’t make an excellent Mr T), Screaming mad Stevie McMahon, Stevie Face G and me, the Hannibal Smith of the operation leading from the front. The plan to bust out El Jurgo from Walton Prison.
Kenny meanwhile has the lads all prepped up as best he can. They feared reprisals on the bus journey in but seeing that City like a big bunch of shandy bellies aren’t letting any crowds form, saw there being no issues. The game was uneventful, but Kevin de Bruyne scored a wonder goal from half way according to the radio as we reached the prison gates. John Bad Arse Barnes blacked up our faces because he said that’s ok now. We used the trademark redmen excuse for going up a street light for a quick 5 knuckle shuffle, to not arouse suspicion, and then jumped over the wall. But the bloody place was locked? Who’d nick anything from a prison! Scandalous. Luckily we could hear the monumental fume of the Jurg from a first floor window. Stevie McMahon used the hair from his wig as an impromptu rope to climb up to the bars. Through the bars we passed him some poison. Not a lot herr boss, it’ll make you sick and we’ll highjack the ambulance as they take you to hospital.
Ja, ok fun boys, but why not push the wall over and be done with it. Not touching that one with a barge pole herr gaffer!
Just as half time blows up due to the mighty Sane equalising, out rushes an ambulance. We get in the way and start rocking it like it contains Alan Smith. El Jurgo is there and he looks dreadful. Zey call me Harold Shipman, the brutes. Prison is not for the pretty boys like us Aldi. Take off this ball and chain ja. But can we heck as like. It just ain’t shifting. Fun boys, I can only give you one batch of speziale brau for all 4 of you as I swallowed it before Mayor Anderson (bloody bitter bloo nugget) put me in prison. Where is it? Well this is my extra super speziale brau, I call it code red. Wow! Sounds top.
But I have only received 3 containers from my bum bum ja. And the other I think burst and is now in my wee wee. One of you must drink the potion ja? Well Sammy Lee the brave little soldier steps forward and takes it for the team. It’s magical says little Sammy, draught Spezial brau on tap! Leave it out Sammy, what do you think this is? A CAMRA meeting?
And then McMahon, me and Stevie have to step up. For you fun boys, here is the container from my buttocks. I guess we know who are the real red sh*te now! After chomping down the extra speziale brau we hear police sirens outside. More boys in bloo wanting to ruin our day. Run ja! Save the day my redmen, ja? Remember it means more!
Well you don’t need a barometer stuck in your anus to know which way the wind is blowing so we hightail it out of there and before long we hit the M62 listening to Minimumino getting a penalty through VAR. Let’s go to the game and see us win the title!
I thought VAR was cancelled says Stevie G. Not when a point is still needed to win the title Stevie lad! Mo Scores the goal. 2-1 up! Alan Green on the radio is keeping very professional and informs us that this is a form of natural justice and will be welcomed by the nation in these troubled times. Spot on Alan!
We screech to a halt outside the ground and use my press pass (Echo journalist of the year!) and rush in. Only to see that cheating Aguerro blast one in to equalise with 5 minutes to go. Stevie says wait here lads, and runs off to the trophy room to grab the premier league trophy to present it on the final whistle. We run over to Kenny to tell him that if he needs us we are all souped up and have an experimental PED coursing inside our veins that means we can win the league no matter what. And seeing that we all renewed our playing contracts at Aldofest we are all eligible to play!
Stevie Gee is getting chased by the security guard, but no one is catching up with him. His face all scrunched up with concentration to get the league we all deserve! He just gets to us at the dugout and there’s a gasp from Kenny – oh my god, the Chinese fru’s symptoms have finally started! But no, that Stirling has scored a winner.
Next thing you know, Pep is giving Stevie a clip around the ear. That belongs to me Slippy. The cheeky Spanish git showing no respecto there! The lads are flagging now. I think it’s up to the fantastic 4 to get the points in the bag. All we need is one more. Or maybe 2. So very close.
Lousy Raheem Stirling rubs it in our faces by dedicating the victory to orphans and kittens who need operations. The self serving piece of trash. Has there ever been anyone more disgusting in football. I’m seething. What makes matter worse is dem bloos have just got into the Europa league positions. I’m off home to have a crate of special brew and take the edge of the red sh*te.
Liverpool: GD +43 Points 83
Robbed our trophy: GD +41 Points 69
Whilst everyone is at the Etihad, I am on a secret mission with the A-team. There’s BA Barnes (now I’m not a racist but I pity the fool that thinks that John wouldn’t make an excellent Mr T), Screaming mad Stevie McMahon, Stevie Face G and me, the Hannibal Smith of the operation leading from the front. The plan to bust out El Jurgo from Walton Prison.
Kenny meanwhile has the lads all prepped up as best he can. They feared reprisals on the bus journey in but seeing that City like a big bunch of shandy bellies aren’t letting any crowds form, saw there being no issues. The game was uneventful, but Kevin de Bruyne scored a wonder goal from half way according to the radio as we reached the prison gates. John Bad Arse Barnes blacked up our faces because he said that’s ok now. We used the trademark redmen excuse for going up a street light for a quick 5 knuckle shuffle, to not arouse suspicion, and then jumped over the wall. But the bloody place was locked? Who’d nick anything from a prison! Scandalous. Luckily we could hear the monumental fume of the Jurg from a first floor window. Stevie McMahon used the hair from his wig as an impromptu rope to climb up to the bars. Through the bars we passed him some poison. Not a lot herr boss, it’ll make you sick and we’ll highjack the ambulance as they take you to hospital.
Ja, ok fun boys, but why not push the wall over and be done with it. Not touching that one with a barge pole herr gaffer!
Just as half time blows up due to the mighty Sane equalising, out rushes an ambulance. We get in the way and start rocking it like it contains Alan Smith. El Jurgo is there and he looks dreadful. Zey call me Harold Shipman, the brutes. Prison is not for the pretty boys like us Aldi. Take off this ball and chain ja. But can we heck as like. It just ain’t shifting. Fun boys, I can only give you one batch of speziale brau for all 4 of you as I swallowed it before Mayor Anderson (bloody bitter bloo nugget) put me in prison. Where is it? Well this is my extra super speziale brau, I call it code red. Wow! Sounds top.
But I have only received 3 containers from my bum bum ja. And the other I think burst and is now in my wee wee. One of you must drink the potion ja? Well Sammy Lee the brave little soldier steps forward and takes it for the team. It’s magical says little Sammy, draught Spezial brau on tap! Leave it out Sammy, what do you think this is? A CAMRA meeting?
And then McMahon, me and Stevie have to step up. For you fun boys, here is the container from my buttocks. I guess we know who are the real red sh*te now! After chomping down the extra speziale brau we hear police sirens outside. More boys in bloo wanting to ruin our day. Run ja! Save the day my redmen, ja? Remember it means more!
Well you don’t need a barometer stuck in your anus to know which way the wind is blowing so we hightail it out of there and before long we hit the M62 listening to Minimumino getting a penalty through VAR. Let’s go to the game and see us win the title!
I thought VAR was cancelled says Stevie G. Not when a point is still needed to win the title Stevie lad! Mo Scores the goal. 2-1 up! Alan Green on the radio is keeping very professional and informs us that this is a form of natural justice and will be welcomed by the nation in these troubled times. Spot on Alan!
We screech to a halt outside the ground and use my press pass (Echo journalist of the year!) and rush in. Only to see that cheating Aguerro blast one in to equalise with 5 minutes to go. Stevie says wait here lads, and runs off to the trophy room to grab the premier league trophy to present it on the final whistle. We run over to Kenny to tell him that if he needs us we are all souped up and have an experimental PED coursing inside our veins that means we can win the league no matter what. And seeing that we all renewed our playing contracts at Aldofest we are all eligible to play!
Stevie Gee is getting chased by the security guard, but no one is catching up with him. His face all scrunched up with concentration to get the league we all deserve! He just gets to us at the dugout and there’s a gasp from Kenny – oh my god, the Chinese fru’s symptoms have finally started! But no, that Stirling has scored a winner.
Next thing you know, Pep is giving Stevie a clip around the ear. That belongs to me Slippy. The cheeky Spanish git showing no respecto there! The lads are flagging now. I think it’s up to the fantastic 4 to get the points in the bag. All we need is one more. Or maybe 2. So very close.
Lousy Raheem Stirling rubs it in our faces by dedicating the victory to orphans and kittens who need operations. The self serving piece of trash. Has there ever been anyone more disgusting in football. I’m seething. What makes matter worse is dem bloos have just got into the Europa league positions. I’m off home to have a crate of special brew and take the edge of the red sh*te.
Liverpool: GD +43 Points 83
Robbed our trophy: GD +41 Points 69
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 5*: 4/5 July
We’re on! We’re going to get a run around against Villa! I’ve got a brand new kit and everything! John Henry has given me a 10% discount on shinnies from the club shop. Look out people, Aldo’s gonna win der league!
Sammy Lee is proper buzzing. He told Big Fat Scam to eff off because he’s back on the pitch. McMahon has been going around telling everyone that he’s a famous footballer. And John Bad Boy Barnes has been on every media outlet you can imagine talking about every subject known to man. He might not be an expert but he certainly has an opinion! He’s on the radio next talking about nuclear fusion but I bet he’s just gonna make something up as he watches some porn. Classic Barnsey.
As we walk into Anfield I see John Henry. He’s made up that we are back on the field. He’s talking about deferred payments to the players. Well normally I’d agree but now I playing I have to say I’ve become a socialist son of Shankley and want to trouser my 25k a week until the end of the season – I got a knob gobbling habit like you wouldn’t believe.
Villa are a bit sticky and have came to defend in numbers. Bloody hell, it’s like Atletico Madrid all over again. Get us off the bench Kenny! That Jack Grealish leaves Virgil for dead – he’s starting to gylfify in front of our very eyes. We’re down. I know we’re not supposed to have an audience, but for our customers, this means more so it’s packed to the rafters. After all it’s not everyday a lad from Kuala Lumpar sees his lads win the league is it? With 20 minutes to go, the dream team get on. McMahon is moving like a 35 year old Millner, which is pretty goddamn fast. He overpowers the Villa midfield and sets up Stevie G but he slips up and lets his Hollywood screamer fly onto the bar, where it bounces out of play harmlessly. Everyone’s nervous. 10 minutes to go, and Villa go close, but we make a fast break, and Trent slips in Salah who falls over and it’s gotta be a VAR penalty. He may have fell outside the box, but you have to consider natural justice! Not given! Outrageous.
With 5 minutes to go I get my only chance. I sprint 30 yards like Ben Johnson before leaping like a salmon to nod it past the keeper- goalllllllllllllllllllllllll! Aldo Aldo Aldo sing the fans. That cheeky sod Alan Green says it was Rush like. Where’s my teen bride Greeno? Where? A point well won. Almost over the line. If City lose tomorrow it’s all ours. John Henry announces that the next home match against Burnley will have my big Fat Aldo Respecto Pride Parade. I’m totally YMCA-ed over that!
City then go and ruin it all against Southampton. Bloody Raheem Stirling with his solitary strike off the bench after coming back from a knock from Dejan Lovren’s world class ball trapping. He then dedicates it to the NHS and key workers. Yer no Jordan Henderson yer big waste of space. Despicable you lad.
Almost there. Are you ready to party redmen! Get out yer boxroom and get yer ma’s used pantied off yer face – we’re bringing the trophy home!
Liverpool: GD +42 Points 83
Robbed our trophy: GD +41 Points 70
We’re on! We’re going to get a run around against Villa! I’ve got a brand new kit and everything! John Henry has given me a 10% discount on shinnies from the club shop. Look out people, Aldo’s gonna win der league!
Sammy Lee is proper buzzing. He told Big Fat Scam to eff off because he’s back on the pitch. McMahon has been going around telling everyone that he’s a famous footballer. And John Bad Boy Barnes has been on every media outlet you can imagine talking about every subject known to man. He might not be an expert but he certainly has an opinion! He’s on the radio next talking about nuclear fusion but I bet he’s just gonna make something up as he watches some porn. Classic Barnsey.
As we walk into Anfield I see John Henry. He’s made up that we are back on the field. He’s talking about deferred payments to the players. Well normally I’d agree but now I playing I have to say I’ve become a socialist son of Shankley and want to trouser my 25k a week until the end of the season – I got a knob gobbling habit like you wouldn’t believe.
Villa are a bit sticky and have came to defend in numbers. Bloody hell, it’s like Atletico Madrid all over again. Get us off the bench Kenny! That Jack Grealish leaves Virgil for dead – he’s starting to gylfify in front of our very eyes. We’re down. I know we’re not supposed to have an audience, but for our customers, this means more so it’s packed to the rafters. After all it’s not everyday a lad from Kuala Lumpar sees his lads win the league is it? With 20 minutes to go, the dream team get on. McMahon is moving like a 35 year old Millner, which is pretty goddamn fast. He overpowers the Villa midfield and sets up Stevie G but he slips up and lets his Hollywood screamer fly onto the bar, where it bounces out of play harmlessly. Everyone’s nervous. 10 minutes to go, and Villa go close, but we make a fast break, and Trent slips in Salah who falls over and it’s gotta be a VAR penalty. He may have fell outside the box, but you have to consider natural justice! Not given! Outrageous.
With 5 minutes to go I get my only chance. I sprint 30 yards like Ben Johnson before leaping like a salmon to nod it past the keeper- goalllllllllllllllllllllllll! Aldo Aldo Aldo sing the fans. That cheeky sod Alan Green says it was Rush like. Where’s my teen bride Greeno? Where? A point well won. Almost over the line. If City lose tomorrow it’s all ours. John Henry announces that the next home match against Burnley will have my big Fat Aldo Respecto Pride Parade. I’m totally YMCA-ed over that!
City then go and ruin it all against Southampton. Bloody Raheem Stirling with his solitary strike off the bench after coming back from a knock from Dejan Lovren’s world class ball trapping. He then dedicates it to the NHS and key workers. Yer no Jordan Henderson yer big waste of space. Despicable you lad.
Almost there. Are you ready to party redmen! Get out yer boxroom and get yer ma’s used pantied off yer face – we’re bringing the trophy home!
Liverpool: GD +42 Points 83
Robbed our trophy: GD +41 Points 70
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 6*: 8 July
Bloody hell, Newcastle roll into town at City filling the sporting village with middle eastern promise. Apparently Amanda Staveley wasn’t a huge gobs*ite blagger and the Saudi royal family have bought in big. They’ve used their oil wealth to buy Mbappe, Rabiot, Hazard, Bale and virtually every galacto worthy of the name – it’s like a FIFA20 squad, but they all have to wait 2 weeks because of quarantine laws before they play so the first game they’ll be in is for last game of the season. Shame it’s not now. Bloody hell watching it as the early match whilst I am getting suited up for the late game against Brighton for the mighty reds! Just need another point and we’re the winners!
Apparently Jonjo Shelvey is not Eden Hazard and Joelinton is not Mbappe. Newcastle get absoulutely stuffed 1-0. Bruce resigns live on tv, and Maurio Pochettino steps up to announce that he’ll take over and destroy the rest of the toon’s remaining opponents. Oooo, I’m so scared. Get lost you bottling nugget. Come to Anfield and yer gonna get blocked!
The middle game is Everton who are on a sensational run according to Carra. Behave soft lad, we wouldn’t have such bias under Alan Switzerland Green. I might need to nip out for a crafty #cans of special brew to take the edge off the red sh*te speziale brau – honestly I’m running rings around Milner in training now – I dunno what El Kloppo stuck in this batch, but it’s the biz. Guess who I see hanging outside the offy in Brighton?!? Only bloody Spaghetti Legs and Djimi! What you lads doing down here? We’re here to see the double bill of the season. Brighton getting battered by der redz and us winning the title but first the big event in competitive knob eating – The Annual Brighton Knob Gobbling Open Championship. This year they’ve said that everyone in Liverpool is rubbish at scoffing knobs because we’re not able to buy enough with our giros.
Well I’m fuming! Them cheeky southern sods (not our customers, but the other ones, them rotten southern nuggets) – I’ll show them! Is it finished before the big game? Yes? Well let them see who is the king of the knob fiends! Spoiler alert nuggets, it’s me!
Bloody hell! It’s the champions league of knob demolishers in this competition. There’s Matt Le Tosser from Southampton (them red and white stripes aren’t that slimming soft lad), and Welsh Behemoth Ash Williams and from up north, Scots knobhead Ron Yates. It’s a home countries match now says Le Tosser. Whose from effing Ireland? Oh it’s me! I played in USA in the heat in the world cup and got Tina Turner’s autograph after teaching her all I knew about goal scoring.
Well the Brighton knob munchers start singing and are all for the southern jessy Matt Le Tosser “Oh we hate Aldo and Ashes Fat Tum, but most of all we hate big Ron, And we’ll toss those knobs down one by one on the banks of the blue and white Amex.” I can’t quite place the tune but it certainly sounds familiar.
Well Le Tosser is one greedy fat git and is stuffing them down his pie hole like a Geordie in Greggs. He races into an early lead. Fat Ash is blowing after a few minutes and he can’t get the knobs in with a t-shirt over his head, the useless lump. Big Ron and me are neck to neck with a solid consistent pace. Le Tosser though as pre usual has an ar5e wobble when he gets to a certain level and is disqualified for illegal emptying. Maybe it’s a dodgy madras? I’ve seen what they can do. Fat Ash is in serious trouble – his unorthodox technique of gobbling knobs slathered in gravy (Class Fat Scam training) is slowing him down, plus he’s also got a nandos on the go too the soft git.
So it’s just me and Ron Yates. Side by side. He says I remind him of a young Tommy Smith in attitude and temperament. What a compliment! That’s respect! He says that I remind him of the physiques of a Jan Molby and Big Raze. Fine specimens! Get in. But then he goes and ruins it by saying that I was a bit like a junior Rush. I’m so mad that I punch him in the chops and grab the last knob which I polish off with relish to eat the most knobs that Brighton has ever seen. They’re all cheering. I feel absolutely bloated. I think that I might get away with it during the match if no one lets on about this to King Kenny.
The team looks at me in disgust as I rock up to the Amex away changing room. Kenny says he is absolutely fuming with me and that they all saw me on Sky Sports flagship programme, “Desperate to fill air time and maintain subscriptions” right between the otter tossing and the paperclip jousting. (Note to self – see if it’s repeated when I get home). Is fuming a symptom of chinese fru? Thankfully not, it’s a symptom of being disappointed in me. I get relegated to the bench and only brought on to score a conciliatory brace after Glen Murray’s magic feet have waltzed through our defence to score a hat trick. The away customers who sneaked into the stadium are furious. They’re starting to turn on Kenny. I’m the hero though. It feels hollow, unlike my belly which is churning away and the bus ride home is very unpleasant as I keep dropping knob scented stink bombs all over the show.
And the worst of it is, I forgot I was stuck in my ma’s box room. She doesn’t have sky and the only thing on is MOTD. I switch it on and there’s that little pest Stirling dedicating his goal to the fight against child slavery. Boooo! I switch off before the last game showing dem bitters closing in on a CL place.
Next up home game, 3 point, a big trophy and the parade to end all parades with Burnley on their holidays, it’s gonna be easy!
Liverpool: GD +41 Points 83
FFP bandits: GD +42 Points 73
Bloody hell, Newcastle roll into town at City filling the sporting village with middle eastern promise. Apparently Amanda Staveley wasn’t a huge gobs*ite blagger and the Saudi royal family have bought in big. They’ve used their oil wealth to buy Mbappe, Rabiot, Hazard, Bale and virtually every galacto worthy of the name – it’s like a FIFA20 squad, but they all have to wait 2 weeks because of quarantine laws before they play so the first game they’ll be in is for last game of the season. Shame it’s not now. Bloody hell watching it as the early match whilst I am getting suited up for the late game against Brighton for the mighty reds! Just need another point and we’re the winners!
Apparently Jonjo Shelvey is not Eden Hazard and Joelinton is not Mbappe. Newcastle get absoulutely stuffed 1-0. Bruce resigns live on tv, and Maurio Pochettino steps up to announce that he’ll take over and destroy the rest of the toon’s remaining opponents. Oooo, I’m so scared. Get lost you bottling nugget. Come to Anfield and yer gonna get blocked!
The middle game is Everton who are on a sensational run according to Carra. Behave soft lad, we wouldn’t have such bias under Alan Switzerland Green. I might need to nip out for a crafty #cans of special brew to take the edge off the red sh*te speziale brau – honestly I’m running rings around Milner in training now – I dunno what El Kloppo stuck in this batch, but it’s the biz. Guess who I see hanging outside the offy in Brighton?!? Only bloody Spaghetti Legs and Djimi! What you lads doing down here? We’re here to see the double bill of the season. Brighton getting battered by der redz and us winning the title but first the big event in competitive knob eating – The Annual Brighton Knob Gobbling Open Championship. This year they’ve said that everyone in Liverpool is rubbish at scoffing knobs because we’re not able to buy enough with our giros.
Well I’m fuming! Them cheeky southern sods (not our customers, but the other ones, them rotten southern nuggets) – I’ll show them! Is it finished before the big game? Yes? Well let them see who is the king of the knob fiends! Spoiler alert nuggets, it’s me!
Bloody hell! It’s the champions league of knob demolishers in this competition. There’s Matt Le Tosser from Southampton (them red and white stripes aren’t that slimming soft lad), and Welsh Behemoth Ash Williams and from up north, Scots knobhead Ron Yates. It’s a home countries match now says Le Tosser. Whose from effing Ireland? Oh it’s me! I played in USA in the heat in the world cup and got Tina Turner’s autograph after teaching her all I knew about goal scoring.
Well the Brighton knob munchers start singing and are all for the southern jessy Matt Le Tosser “Oh we hate Aldo and Ashes Fat Tum, but most of all we hate big Ron, And we’ll toss those knobs down one by one on the banks of the blue and white Amex.” I can’t quite place the tune but it certainly sounds familiar.
Well Le Tosser is one greedy fat git and is stuffing them down his pie hole like a Geordie in Greggs. He races into an early lead. Fat Ash is blowing after a few minutes and he can’t get the knobs in with a t-shirt over his head, the useless lump. Big Ron and me are neck to neck with a solid consistent pace. Le Tosser though as pre usual has an ar5e wobble when he gets to a certain level and is disqualified for illegal emptying. Maybe it’s a dodgy madras? I’ve seen what they can do. Fat Ash is in serious trouble – his unorthodox technique of gobbling knobs slathered in gravy (Class Fat Scam training) is slowing him down, plus he’s also got a nandos on the go too the soft git.
So it’s just me and Ron Yates. Side by side. He says I remind him of a young Tommy Smith in attitude and temperament. What a compliment! That’s respect! He says that I remind him of the physiques of a Jan Molby and Big Raze. Fine specimens! Get in. But then he goes and ruins it by saying that I was a bit like a junior Rush. I’m so mad that I punch him in the chops and grab the last knob which I polish off with relish to eat the most knobs that Brighton has ever seen. They’re all cheering. I feel absolutely bloated. I think that I might get away with it during the match if no one lets on about this to King Kenny.
The team looks at me in disgust as I rock up to the Amex away changing room. Kenny says he is absolutely fuming with me and that they all saw me on Sky Sports flagship programme, “Desperate to fill air time and maintain subscriptions” right between the otter tossing and the paperclip jousting. (Note to self – see if it’s repeated when I get home). Is fuming a symptom of chinese fru? Thankfully not, it’s a symptom of being disappointed in me. I get relegated to the bench and only brought on to score a conciliatory brace after Glen Murray’s magic feet have waltzed through our defence to score a hat trick. The away customers who sneaked into the stadium are furious. They’re starting to turn on Kenny. I’m the hero though. It feels hollow, unlike my belly which is churning away and the bus ride home is very unpleasant as I keep dropping knob scented stink bombs all over the show.
And the worst of it is, I forgot I was stuck in my ma’s box room. She doesn’t have sky and the only thing on is MOTD. I switch it on and there’s that little pest Stirling dedicating his goal to the fight against child slavery. Boooo! I switch off before the last game showing dem bitters closing in on a CL place.
Next up home game, 3 point, a big trophy and the parade to end all parades with Burnley on their holidays, it’s gonna be easy!
Liverpool: GD +41 Points 83
FFP bandits: GD +42 Points 73
Yarrgh
Player Valuation: £80m
The last hurrah of Aldo. Or how I learnt to stop gobbling knobs and learn to love the asterisk. Match Day 7*: 11 July
Well today’s the day of the big fat Aldo Respecto Pride Parade, that in no way should be associated with a trophy parade in case that big fat mayor Anderson gets his knickers in the twist. New customer liason Tony Bennet from Allerton is briefing me about what’s going to happen. “We love all those gay fellas that you got John! Total rainbow – but let’s not forget that red is one of those colours.” Aye, they are all happy chaps and I think that the rainbow is honour of the NHS that St Jordan saved single handedly which is fitting because Shanks founded it, just after writing Das Kapital with Karl Marx. I see what you are saying, more red, less other colour. “Exactly John! Wonderful. And don’t forget to get them into the club shop – 10% off theHarold Shipman Klopp badges.
Also Burnley are going to bring up some of their marchers too. Apparently, they’re all big fans of English Pride. They’ll get along like a house on fire with my happy or gay priders. Marvellous. Can’t wait to see them all party to Fiminho’s steel drum carnival orchestra before John Barnes all treats them to some of his favourite movie soundtracks to rouse them all up – he’s hooked it up to the jumbtron left after the derby match and is going to get Alan Green to do dramatic renditions of key redmen moments over the top of the scenes – sounds ace. Big Purps is going to do free muscles examinations and it’s going to be excellently managed by employment agency gurus turned security men Keiran and Kookookachoo. We’ve also got an open top bus driven by Frang just in case any team wants to celebrate something (nudge nudge wink wink).
Since Kenny banned me off knobs, I’ve trimmed right down and am back at peak 86 form. I think I might devastate the Burnley back line today. I’m on fire in training and King Kenny has decided to forgive me my foolish ways in Brighton – he says that it happened all the time in his day and remembers when he used to enjoy the odd knob himself in his younger days before fame. Motivational stuff from the man who epitomises the club – so many problems but seemingly without symptoms or comeuppance – a hero you might say.
Anyway, it turns out that D1cky Masters from the PL has declared that Burnley have to put a shift in after their disgraceful flip flop wearing game against City. As such it’s a much harder game than expected. As all the players bar me, Stevie Gee, Steve MacMahon and Sammy Lee are running on fumes we are really struggling. I of course score a hat-trick, but the catatonic Virgil now going full on gylfi is making even Lovren look good. 200k a year? No wonder John Henry is pulling his hair out, at least he can sell Mane for 120 million to Real Madrid and get in Mbappe for free as a non-signing – that’ll balance the books out. Anyway 3-3 at half time is not what we wanted to see. Meanwhile over at Brighton, City are battering the Brighton defence without any breakthrough. If it stays like this, we might just win the league today – we just need that point.
Second half starts and Little Sammy Lee pulls up injured. The doctor says it is a dehydration issue and he’ll be out for the season because of it. Jason McAteer states that our nutritionists have been taking the p1ss since Klopp left. We all laugh – Classic McAteer line. Our nerves are settled even with having to stick on the hapless Minimino. We get sucker punched right at the end as he slices one past Allison. Awful stuff. What makes it worse is that bleeding Raheem Stirling has knocked in a late winner to pull them closer – 9 points behind but with better goal difference. Stevie Gee takes us all into a huddle. “Last time I said no slipping, and we slipped. This time we will not slip. No slipping is allowed. We will never slip again. Not once. And with no slipping we will win the title that has been denied us for so long.” Brilliant stuff – no way we ever slip now.
The parade is a mixed bag. Turns out that the pride movement is full of homosexuals! Apparently, I have become a cult following amongst this community. Who knew?!? All of a sudden I’m seeing those Aldofest t-shirts in a new light. Anyway it’s a great event and they all know the words to YMCA so it’s all good. But then the Burnley English Pride lads start getting aggro. It’s dreadful, the police have to move us 10 yards and Emelia Bonas is in tears. Then it gets crazy with Barnesy paying his music to a hardcore porn video. It’s only Barnesy getting it on with a wide variety of ugly women. The Burnley boys say it’s not right and start rampaging. All of a sudden the Liverpool customers rock up and start kicking off too, and shout that they are going to pull down the statue of a slave trader – but that’s Shank’s statue – do they not know who he is? Was Mayor Anderson right about Liverpool fans? Surely not!
Ian Rush and Prince Andrew then start climbing onto a police car and start hurling pyros at the oppo team’s bus. Fortunately the police were not able to identify them otherwise can you imagine the scandal. It’s chaos. It’s only compounded by news that Raheem Stirling headed City in front 25 minutes into stoppage time due to a suspicious package that was found in the away changing rooms needed investigating – turns out that it was a 4 pack of special brew and a rectal barometer. Oops. Raheem Stirling dedicates the win to his old team’s customers during this riot. Bloody hell, he’s disgusting – imagine horning in on other people’s grief for point scoring – who’d do that? Hey? Who?!?
Hit twitter in the evening once the carnage has ended:
HKRedindisguise: Shocking scenes! Was it Chelsea?
RealAldo: Good point! Didn’t think about that. Makes sense
MayorAnderson: Think about the Covid-19 impact on the people of Merseyside and beyond. This is terrible. A real dark day for our city.
RealAldo: Yer blocked. Think of the Premier League -19 impact you selfish man. Poor John Henry hasn’t got infinite resources you know! He’s got to buy Mbappe somehow.
Hervay: Tell ‘im Aldo! Are we going to win the league? I won’t come out of my Ma’s boxroom until we do.
RealAldo: Go get a bedsheet and write on it that we’re going to win the league and everything. And don’t forget to write a long list of witty stuff on it that only superior red minds can understand.
Bed for me. Arsenal up next. I need revenge for 89!
Liverpool: GD +40 Points 85*
FFP bandits: GD +43 Points 76
*Late news scandal! Table points are amended. The EPL has apparently been using the same computer system as the City Scouting IT system, and a disgruntled ex-employee has been hacking into it causing disruption. It’s a scandal! A scandal! But it does mean that der mighty redmen only need one more point to win! Or more likely City to lose! Right now I’ll take a win by default. It’ll still have meaning won’t it? Won’t it?
Well today’s the day of the big fat Aldo Respecto Pride Parade, that in no way should be associated with a trophy parade in case that big fat mayor Anderson gets his knickers in the twist. New customer liason Tony Bennet from Allerton is briefing me about what’s going to happen. “We love all those gay fellas that you got John! Total rainbow – but let’s not forget that red is one of those colours.” Aye, they are all happy chaps and I think that the rainbow is honour of the NHS that St Jordan saved single handedly which is fitting because Shanks founded it, just after writing Das Kapital with Karl Marx. I see what you are saying, more red, less other colour. “Exactly John! Wonderful. And don’t forget to get them into the club shop – 10% off the
Also Burnley are going to bring up some of their marchers too. Apparently, they’re all big fans of English Pride. They’ll get along like a house on fire with my happy or gay priders. Marvellous. Can’t wait to see them all party to Fiminho’s steel drum carnival orchestra before John Barnes all treats them to some of his favourite movie soundtracks to rouse them all up – he’s hooked it up to the jumbtron left after the derby match and is going to get Alan Green to do dramatic renditions of key redmen moments over the top of the scenes – sounds ace. Big Purps is going to do free muscles examinations and it’s going to be excellently managed by employment agency gurus turned security men Keiran and Kookookachoo. We’ve also got an open top bus driven by Frang just in case any team wants to celebrate something (nudge nudge wink wink).
Since Kenny banned me off knobs, I’ve trimmed right down and am back at peak 86 form. I think I might devastate the Burnley back line today. I’m on fire in training and King Kenny has decided to forgive me my foolish ways in Brighton – he says that it happened all the time in his day and remembers when he used to enjoy the odd knob himself in his younger days before fame. Motivational stuff from the man who epitomises the club – so many problems but seemingly without symptoms or comeuppance – a hero you might say.
Anyway, it turns out that D1cky Masters from the PL has declared that Burnley have to put a shift in after their disgraceful flip flop wearing game against City. As such it’s a much harder game than expected. As all the players bar me, Stevie Gee, Steve MacMahon and Sammy Lee are running on fumes we are really struggling. I of course score a hat-trick, but the catatonic Virgil now going full on gylfi is making even Lovren look good. 200k a year? No wonder John Henry is pulling his hair out, at least he can sell Mane for 120 million to Real Madrid and get in Mbappe for free as a non-signing – that’ll balance the books out. Anyway 3-3 at half time is not what we wanted to see. Meanwhile over at Brighton, City are battering the Brighton defence without any breakthrough. If it stays like this, we might just win the league today – we just need that point.
Second half starts and Little Sammy Lee pulls up injured. The doctor says it is a dehydration issue and he’ll be out for the season because of it. Jason McAteer states that our nutritionists have been taking the p1ss since Klopp left. We all laugh – Classic McAteer line. Our nerves are settled even with having to stick on the hapless Minimino. We get sucker punched right at the end as he slices one past Allison. Awful stuff. What makes it worse is that bleeding Raheem Stirling has knocked in a late winner to pull them closer – 9 points behind but with better goal difference. Stevie Gee takes us all into a huddle. “Last time I said no slipping, and we slipped. This time we will not slip. No slipping is allowed. We will never slip again. Not once. And with no slipping we will win the title that has been denied us for so long.” Brilliant stuff – no way we ever slip now.
The parade is a mixed bag. Turns out that the pride movement is full of homosexuals! Apparently, I have become a cult following amongst this community. Who knew?!? All of a sudden I’m seeing those Aldofest t-shirts in a new light. Anyway it’s a great event and they all know the words to YMCA so it’s all good. But then the Burnley English Pride lads start getting aggro. It’s dreadful, the police have to move us 10 yards and Emelia Bonas is in tears. Then it gets crazy with Barnesy paying his music to a hardcore porn video. It’s only Barnesy getting it on with a wide variety of ugly women. The Burnley boys say it’s not right and start rampaging. All of a sudden the Liverpool customers rock up and start kicking off too, and shout that they are going to pull down the statue of a slave trader – but that’s Shank’s statue – do they not know who he is? Was Mayor Anderson right about Liverpool fans? Surely not!
Ian Rush and Prince Andrew then start climbing onto a police car and start hurling pyros at the oppo team’s bus. Fortunately the police were not able to identify them otherwise can you imagine the scandal. It’s chaos. It’s only compounded by news that Raheem Stirling headed City in front 25 minutes into stoppage time due to a suspicious package that was found in the away changing rooms needed investigating – turns out that it was a 4 pack of special brew and a rectal barometer. Oops. Raheem Stirling dedicates the win to his old team’s customers during this riot. Bloody hell, he’s disgusting – imagine horning in on other people’s grief for point scoring – who’d do that? Hey? Who?!?
Hit twitter in the evening once the carnage has ended:
HKRedindisguise: Shocking scenes! Was it Chelsea?
RealAldo: Good point! Didn’t think about that. Makes sense
MayorAnderson: Think about the Covid-19 impact on the people of Merseyside and beyond. This is terrible. A real dark day for our city.
RealAldo: Yer blocked. Think of the Premier League -19 impact you selfish man. Poor John Henry hasn’t got infinite resources you know! He’s got to buy Mbappe somehow.
Hervay: Tell ‘im Aldo! Are we going to win the league? I won’t come out of my Ma’s boxroom until we do.
RealAldo: Go get a bedsheet and write on it that we’re going to win the league and everything. And don’t forget to write a long list of witty stuff on it that only superior red minds can understand.
Bed for me. Arsenal up next. I need revenge for 89!
Liverpool: GD +40 Points 85*
FFP bandits: GD +43 Points 76
*Late news scandal! Table points are amended. The EPL has apparently been using the same computer system as the City Scouting IT system, and a disgruntled ex-employee has been hacking into it causing disruption. It’s a scandal! A scandal! But it does mean that der mighty redmen only need one more point to win! Or more likely City to lose! Right now I’ll take a win by default. It’ll still have meaning won’t it? Won’t it?
- Status