Run for the hills - the rag fucker says we're done for.
You lot have a keeper who is your best player but wants to fuck off, a fat left back, a gormless twat at centre back, a thug in midfield who remains your most potent weapon, a flop on the wing, a fat **** on £300,000 a week who can barely break into a jog, a manager who none of you like, his boss eyed assistant playing around with family members, Thursday/Sunday football in the competition that Liverpool knocked you out of (the second time you got knocked out of Europe this season), a huge debt and a surplus of Norwich scarves.