And I mourn

If you, like me, were up last night watching the blasted debacle that was lasts night's Championship Semi-Finals between Liverpool and Stinky Shit, then I seek your understanding. I am crushed, gutted and devastated beyond words and will possibly need many, many days, pints of alcohol and brain-numbing TV (of course I really meant torrents) to assauge this pain.

I really hate to bring up the humilating mishap that involved Riise the Donkey but SERIOUSLY, boy's GOT TO GO. Useless, ineffective and mostly running around the field like a headless chicken and costing us the home game with his assholery of a head-butted OG, last night he proves once again, how he'll never, ever redeem himself.

Unlike the precious and the most adorable face in English football right now, skipper Stevie G who tried so hard but was thwarted at EVERY opportunity by Stinky Shit Blues.

I know that you who are inherently blessed with the sort of sweet understanding that I can't find anywhere else, will understand that I won't be able to post anything worth reading at this point and will instead heap upon me kindly words of comfort and maybe even a few dozen boxes of Royce Incomparable Champagne Truffle.