Dear Liverpool,
Please don’t hurt me.
Please don’t hurt me, Liverpool. If I’ve ever said anything to offend you—and I’m not saying you’re sensitive, Liverpool!—or if I’ve ever done anything that might make you want to tear my head off my neck, replace it with a weathervane, and dump my corpse in a lightning storm, then Liverpool, please, allow me to take this opportunity to offer a complete and unreserved apology. Have mercy, Liverpool. I beg you. Have mercy on me.
Liverpool, I know that I once called your manager a “gerbil.” Your manager is not a gerbil, Liverpool. Okay, your manager is kind of a gerbil. Nevertheless, I—
Liverpool! Wait! Please put that door back on its hinges! Don’t—don’t hoist that piano over your head with one hand, Liverpool! Don’t throw that piano through the window, Liverpool! Stop advancing on me, Liverpool! Stop sssssssadfkjlnhmshjrahg———
Yours affectionately,
Brian
Read More: Aston Villa, Liverpool, The Occasional Match Summary
by Brian Phillips · March 22, 2009
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