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5-4-3-2-1 RANT!  

by APB  

(Ed: A soccer article that's sure to confuse the bejesus out of our growing Maori readership)

 

Top 5 Anfield Purges/culls… They have to go….


5. The football tourist. They turn up for the experience. They’ve seen football on Sky, they don’t really like the game, but they do like the sense of occasion. They like the game’s high profile, it’s level of exposure and they like the noise of the crowd. They have no connection or affinity with the club, or even the sport of football. They don’t watch the match. They turn round open mouthed and point at me open mouthed, as I state that Gerry Taggart or David Unsworth’s equine qualities should be on display at Kempton Park . They take photos with their mobiles… It’s as if we’re some sort of performing fucking monkey act bussed in for their entertainment and amusement. “Well wait until I get started on Mike Riley you cunts! Then you will know what rabid is”… In the grand scheme of things these people are relatively harmless, so just a gentle prodding to awaken them to their surroundings and let them know, its not a theme park, with performing circus acts positioned around the ground to amuse them.

4. The sanctimonious self righteous twats who moan endlessly about the atmosphere on the internet.. Were did these cunts come from? Where were they in the eighties when we were getting thirty thousand and more often than not you could hear some old fella cough on the other side of the ground?… They don’t like abusive songs, but they get upset that not everyone around them knows the words to some thirty two verse ballad. They go on endlessly about the Liverpool way and what good supporters they are. They know all the words and they pat their chests during Liverbird – the ‘wooly mings’ (that might be acceptable at about midnight if you’ve been on the shorts all day and can barely stand, but it’s taking the piss at 3pm after 3 or 4 pints of low grade lager). They’re professional supporters. They pen daft long winded songs on the internet, then try to get them started at the match. They should fuck off and start a folk group, or join a choral society, and leave the rest of us in peace. I know the atmosphere’s not very good. I know it’s not what it could be.. I don’t need to be told about it endlessly by Earnest Youngman of Milton Keynes, Tommy Indignant from Northampton , or Brian Outraged, North London . Fuck off you try too hard and you’re doing peoples’ heads in… A bucket of piss thrown over them and perhaps a dart, or a doctored golf ball to disabuse them of the ludicrous grainy black and white nostalgic image of the all dancing, singing kopite prancing down the street singing “she loves you, yeah, yeah” …

3. The poetic banner brigade…. These fuckers who make these banners emblazoned with misquotes from Shakespearian tragedies, or the latest cringeworthy Hollwood epic blockbuster. These people are talking utter shite, they’re getting away with it and most of them can’t spell. Ludicrous grandiose statements have no place on football flags. It’s like teams running out to ludicrous grandiose music. It all belongs at the Stadium of Light, Wearside…. I blame that fat bastard with the Wine for My Men banner and his WWFMMWRAD fucking alarm clocks myself. That’s FUCKING ALARM CLOCKS, by the way. (Don’t even mention the key rings, the mugs, the pens and the fondue set….. He made a fortune on E bay you know and has retired to leafy Upton on the proceeds – 2,000 alarm clocks!!!.. ) Football banners should refer to alehouses and crews- The Kingfisher Kirkby, The Holt Kensington, The Leather Bottle Halewood, The Irregulars, The Betty Ford Clinic, The Huyton Baddies. On no account should they have any fucking poetry on them, or other misquoted bollocks.… “The distance between genius and insanity is the length of a Gerard Houllier interview?…” Who do these fuckers think they are??? Eric fucking Cantona???. He only said it for a laugh you beauts and he was off his head anyway… “When the seagulls follow the trawler they are destined to live through greatness…” In the not too distant pat our team was made up of very average mercenaries and they were not enigmatic misunderstood French existentialists. Nobody knows what you are on about and you look like right silly cunts… You make us all look like soft twats… There’s only one solution. The final one for the meffs who own these banners. Ritual burnings - on Anfield Road - of them and their banners…..

2. People who clap at the end of the first verse of YNWA. It’s like going to church and standing up and saying AMEN in the middle of the Lord’s Prayer. It’s ill-mannered, discourteous, disrespectful, ignorant and blatantly rude. Do you think the clergy would stand around and let people take the piss like that? Like fuck they would! They’d get it sorted and launch the Spanish inquisition – the brutal cunts. These people have to go – They’ve no manners… I don’t like rude people. Chop their fucking hands off… then watch them clap….. the no-handed cunts…..


1. My current pet hate. Obnoxious wools who think they’re “geezers” and a bit “tasty”. They mainly come on supporters coaches and they also follow England . They’re annoying cunts at the best of times, but after four pints of larger, they transform into a loads a money character, but with sideburns and, even worse - an ear ring!!! Another varriation on this theme is the parrot headed, ripped jeans, I got my education through soccer am bueats. Truth is this the softer edge of the same clueless and slightly beligerent family though. They display flags with odious facile messages on St.George’s cross such as ‘Salop til I die’… They think Harry Enfield’s calm down sketch is funny and it’s acceptable to do this when confronted with a scouser. It’s not and it isn’t. They sing “Who R ya” and “your not singing anymore” and most recently "easy, easy." They think it’s hilarious to bait away fans. They’re moronic parasites and frankly the world would be a better place if they all drowned tomorrow. For comedy value, I recommend these fuckers be wired up to the mains. Now do your fucking calm down sketch you cunts….. Whad’ya mean I’ve no sense of humour?….. Look at the 240 volts on that…..

 

 

 

 

 
   
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