Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.

aionaeon @ 2008-06-21T13:37:00

2008-06-21T05:33:39Z

i want to write again.

lookee! it's me!

2007-12-28T14:59:43Z

It's been a while and I've been so incredibly tied up with work and life. But I do miss you guys heap loads. *waves and randomly hugs everyone*. How has everyone been? One day...one day soon I'll post something that isn't me saying I've been missing for ages and I miss everyone. And maybe one day I'll even post an actual story. But for now, everyone's still supporting our boys yes? Come on Redmen!!

Oh and I just had to share this review someone left on ff.net.

meleth78,

The following review has been submitted to: Look! Look! Chapter: 6

From: SimplyGone ()
-------------------

I give up. You might want to be more specific about your live journal cause
what you put down does not take us there. And when I was in you LJ I couldn't
find the story - so I guess better direction for future readers or maybe
posting on aff net might be less stressful

No need to reply - so annoyed I don't care to read anymore

The story is good btw

Gee. And I was so tempted to reply. *snicker* For heaven's sake.

A funny feeling...

2007-10-19T15:26:44Z

I felt this twinge.

And for like 3 seconds I thought, hey, I could actually write somethi-, but then, it was gone.

Alack.

Did I leave a Danny/Finns story unfinished?

Oh well.

Perhaps in December then.

*sniffs and wanders off*

Randomness because I'm too lazy to Work Out at 6am

2007-08-14T23:13:20Z

My new wallpaper. What? I'm not obsessed. Really I'm not.

O_o

Also. People keep telling me I have the best job ever. They lie. She has. Well, the 2nd best job ever anyway. The 1st best job ever would be...team massage lady. You start by being team tea lady and work your way up.

Lady! Lady! Wanna trade?! Over here! Danny! Danny! Arvie!! Lookee at meeeee!!

Don't Forget...

2007-08-14T13:12:47Z

Sometimes it's easy to forget.

They sweat and bleed and shed tears in their chosen colours.

Our chosen colours.

We scream their names, wear them on our backs, claim them as our very own.

But they are not ours.

Their bodies, their futures belong only to them. To protect. To safeguard. To fight for.

They have lives that should be none of our concern. Families to love. Friends to call their own.

We're none of us perfect.

So don't forget.

They don't belong to us.

Not really anyways.

FIC: The Adventures of Daniel Munthe Agger

2007-08-13T13:45:31Z

Title: The Misdventures of Daniel Munthe Agger - Part ONE
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Stephen Finnan
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If only it were true but it's not.
Summary: Er Well. Daniel's not so clever adventures. Work in Progress. Progressing. Slowly.
Author's Note: Crack. Inspired by...nothing in particular. Set just after last season and will probably continue into the new. Where Denmark's NT got royally screwed during the Euro 2008 Qualifiers because some drunk moron decided it would be fun to invade the pitch.

O_o

.
.
.

‘You’re right. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. You’re a good fuck. That’s all this is.’

.
.
.

Ok.

Maybe that wasn’t the smartest of things to say.

First of all, it was overly dramatic.

Second of all, people? In real life? They did not speak like that. And if they did? They were overly dramatic idiots who should probably play for Man United.

And C…C…there was no C. There should have been though. Such utter stupidity surely warranted a C. It was that dumb.

But Daniel had been Angry. And as Daniel himself had come to learn over the years, an Angry Daniel was a Stupid Daniel.

But no.

Stupid was a drunken Wayne Rooney telling Jamie Carragher that a stupid-drunken-Wayne Rooney thought that Everton was in fact, not a small team.

Stupid was challenging Xabier Alonso Olano to a game of chess and betting money on it.

Stupid was hiding Luis Garcia’s hair gel in Mark Gonzales’ kit bag.

But what Daniel did was rather beyond that.

His level of stupidity was more along the lines of when Pennant had been so fucking drunk he didn’t realise that the feisty Spanish babe he had been trying to feel up was in fact, a certain Montse Benitez.

Yep. That was how stupid Stupid Daniel had been.

Because it was Stephen Finnan.

Stephen-fucking-Finnan.

Finns.

Steve.

His Steve.

And he had screwed up big time.

And His Steve was quite likely, never going to forgive him.

O_o

It had seemed like a good idea when he thought of it. In his head. Where most his thoughts usually occurred-

(Occasionally though, his thought process originated from a location…somewhere further south and tingled its way, inch by inch, slowly upwards. On hindsight, this could very well have been one of those occasions. But then we digress…)

-in his defence, he had been rather distracted at that time. After all, he had been staring, quite fascinated really, at the pale expense of Finnan’s bare, exposed back as the other man lay dead asleep next to him.

Daniel was always good at staring. He quite liked it. Staring usually led to thinking, and thinking led to analysing, and analysing led to deciphering, and deciphering usually led to discovering. And Daniel very much liked discovering new things. Like how much paler Finnan’s butt was in comparison to the rest of him. And since the rest of Finnan was already extremely pale, his butt was almost…translucent.

It was however, very nicely muscled. Pert even.

A fact that Daniel had quite happily discovered while deeply contemplating the Irish man's form in general.

He had also ascertained that he was in fact, rather fond of the unconscious man lying next to him. If fond was indeed the word he was looking for. English was after all, not his native language.

To be fond of.

To have affectionate feelings for.

To lust after.

To find a person distractingly, blindingly, breath-stoppingly hawt.

So yes.

Maybe a tad more than fond.

Probably, maybe more than just a tad.

Definitely, probably, maybe more than just a tad.

In fact, Dan concluded that he had had left a tad so far back that a tad had ceased to exist entirely.

This of course unnerved the young Dane, and so, Danny being Danny, decided that he had to find out right at that very moment. And the one person who would always take the time to explain things to him was Steve Finnan.

On hindsight (numerous things occurred to Dan on hindsight for he was sorely lacking in any reasonable form of foresight), poking a sleeping Stephen Finnan (despite the fact he seemed to be the penultimate source of answers to Daniel’s questions) was definitely, probably, maybe not one of Daniel Agger’s best ideas.

.
.
.

‘Urrrhgh…’

‘Finns. Wake up.’

‘Nuuuhh….oog ahbaay...’

‘Are you sleeping? Finns?’

‘…’uck off.’

‘Finns!’

‘Huh? Wha- Dan?’

‘Er yes. It’s Dan. I have to, er I have to ask you something.’

‘I was…Dan I was sleeping.’

‘Er yes. So I woke you up.’

‘No shit. Daniel-’

‘I need to know something.’

‘It couldn’t wait till morning?’

‘Er no.’

‘Why the fuck not? Daniel-‘

‘I think…er, I think I may, I may be…er. Do you, do you think I am?’

‘What?’

‘Er yes. Well, do you think so too?’

‘What do I think what? What the fuck Dan!’

‘Why are you yelling at me?!’

‘It’s four- it’s four-fucking-AM!’

‘Er yes. But this is important.’

‘WHAT is important?! Stop being an idiot and-‘

‘Why am I an idiot? You’re the one that’s yelling for no reason!’

‘I’m what? It’s four- what’s wrong with you? Why are you suddenly a woman?’

‘---‘

‘Dan?’

‘You’re right. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. You’re a good fuck. That’s all this is.’

‘---‘

‘Finns? Say- say something.’

‘---‘

‘Finns?’

‘Get the fuck out of my house.’

‘---‘

‘---‘

‘Whatever.’

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’

O_o

So yeah.

Maybe that wasn’t the smartest of things to say.

O_o

The fact that the season was officially over made it easier for Dan to avoid any contact whatsoever with Steve Finnan.

He was resolute over the matter.

No. Contact. Whatsoever.

Teach the Irish bastard a lesson.

Not important.

He said it was not important.

Bloody Irish Bastard.

He said it was not fucking important.

He said that Dan was not fucking important.

So it would stand to reason that the very blank text message he had sent to Steve Finnan by accident would startle Daniel Munthe Agger.

Well, perhaps slightly more than startle.

Alarm maybe.

Distress even.

Panic?

Mad panic?

Freak out completely?

He hadn’t meant to send any message blank or otherwise.

He had been staring at Finns’ cell phone number (as he did everyday). But in accordance to his resolute resolution to have no contact whatsoever with the damned Irish bastard, Daniel has no intention (at all) of sending any message (blank or otherwise) to that damned Irish bastard.

He was absolutely not going to tell Steve about how much he wanted to break that stupid, stupid moron that ran onto the pitch in fourteen pieces.

He was absolutely not going to tell Steve how much he had wished Steve had been there to snarl at him 'NOT NOW DANIEL' as he always did whenever Daniel tried to hold his hand after scoring. It was his main motivation for scoring really. The more spectacular the goal, the more of Finnan he got to grab thereafter.

But then there was Nicklas, and Nicklas had bumped into Morten.

And Morten, who had then bumped into Rasmus.

And Rasmus, who had then tripped over someone’s (Per Nielsen’s probably) shin guard and body-slammed into Daniel.

And Daniel, whose finger had hit…something.

It had hit something hard.

And when you hit that particular something that hard, it would automatically bring you to the screen where messages are sent. And on that screen, if you panic and press something else, that something else will immediately ‘send’ the message you may or may not have intended to send.

Even blank ones.

And so,

Daniel Agger had sent Steven Finnan a text message. Albeit a very, very, very blank one.

So then.

He did what he thought made the most sense at that point in time.

He panicked, grabbing at what little hair he had left.

And then he dialed.

And the line was connected immediately.

.
.
.

'What?'

'I did not send you the text message.'

'What the hell Dan-'

'I said I did not send you that text message.'

'You didn't just send me the text I received from you.'

'Er no.'

'Dan-'

'I mean I did. But I didn't.'

'Dan-'

'I have nothing I want to say to you.'

'You have nothing to say to me.'

'Er right. Yes.'

'So you sent me a blank text message.'

'Er what? No. I mean, yes. No. Yes. Yes.'

'Whatever Dan.'

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

.
.
.

Dan was not quite sure how that damned Irish bastard managed it with a cell phone but somehow or other he could hear the diconnect button on Finns' cell being stabbed with great vengeance.

That damned Irish bastard had button-slammed the phone on him!

Fuck.

Fuck it all to hell.

O_o

To be continued.

Perhaps. Probably. Maybe.

When inspiration and real life conspire to allow me the time.

FIC: Pseudo - Alonso/Gerrard

2007-08-12T06:53:53Z

Title: Pseudo
Pairing: Xabier Alonso Olano / Steven Gerrard
Rating: G
Disclaimer: If only it were true but it's not.
Summary: The latest addition to the Alonso Olano family
Author's Note: I'm sorry. This is unmitigated crack i.e this is Meg inspired crack.

'Xabi? Are you ready to go?'

'Ah Stevie. I forgot to tell you. Tonight I cannot go.'

'What? Why not?'

'Pseudo.'

'What?'

'I say it incorrectly? It is not SOO-DOH?'

'Pseudo? What..what's pseudo?'

'You do not know pseudo? It means to be pretend. To have the appearance off but to not be actually real.'

'What? What the fuck are you talking about Xabi?'

'My puppy. He is Pseudo.'

'Your what? You have a fake puppy?'

'Si. But not anymore.'

'What the fuck Xabi?'

'When I was a little boy back in Spain I wished to have a puppy very much. But my daddy said no yet no yet. Perhaps when you are older Xabi. And Mikel. He had some allergies. He sneezed on everything. It was very messy the sneezes. So our puppies were all pseudo.'

'You what? You had fake puppies? And that's why we can't go out tonight?'

'Yes Stevie. When I was a little boy my puppy was pseudo. So now when I am big my puppy is Pseudo also.'

'We're not meeting up with the boys because you have a fake puppy again?'

'No no Stevie. Pseudo is real.'

'No. Pseudo means fake. You just said.'

'My Pseudo is real.'

'Your pseudo is real?'

'Yes. He can sneeze like Mikel.'

'Your fake puppy sneezes like your big brother? What the fuck Xabi?'

'You do not understand me Steven.'

'I never understand you Xabi.'

'Come then. I will show you.'

.
.
.
.
.
.

'XABI! YOU GOT A PUPPY!'

'Yes Stevie. He is Pseudo.'

'Fuck me. He's cute!'

'Yes. He is very cute. He is mine. He is also real.'

'Awwwww. I have to bring the girls by one day. They'll go crazy. Come here little Pseu- OWW! FUCK!! XABI! Your stupid dog-'

'He is not stupid Stevie. Do not say that. I will be mad.'

'BUT! He BIT me!'

'It is just a pseudo bite.'

'WHAT? NO IT'S NOT! LOOK! There are teeth marks!'

'Steven. You're over-reacting a bit no? He is very small-'

'HE'S STICKING OUT HIS TONGUE AT ME!! XABI LOOK!!!'

'Steven. He is doing no such thing.'

'HE- HE DID JUST NOW! XABI!'

'Perhaps you should leave no? If you cannot behave yourself around Pseudo you will scare him. He is very small. He cannot be scared. You can be very scary when you are loud.'

'You're throwing me out over your non-fake dog?'

'Si.'

'But-'

'I will call Lily and tell her she can bring Lexie to play with Pseudo. But her Daddy he cannot come if he is unable to behave himself next time.'

'You do realise my girls are going to choose you and your damn puppy over me right?'

'Si'

'You're evil.'

'Si'

'So I can stay if I let your new animal abuse me?'

'Si.'

'Fine.'

.
.
.
.
.
.

'We should ask Finnan and Agger to bring Duck over one day.'

'Oh. That is a good idea Stevie. I think Pseudo will like Duck.'

'We'll make a day out of it...'

THE BEGINNING?

Meet Pseudo Alonso Olano

Fracas and Romance

2007-08-06T12:50:32Z

Awwww Insane!Stevie. You stuck up for your boy. I lub you. But try not to kill people on the pitch yes?

Awwww Angry!Danny. Awww. You kept your cool. Mr. Finnan would be so proud. After he teases the hell outta ya. Yes. *nods*

Awwww Badhaircut!Chabo. YOUR HAIR! You're lucky you're so preeety. Yes. *nods*

I love my boys.

I really want to write them. BUT. I'm distracted by ... a real-life guy. And people are actually paying me to write about stuff I know absolutely nothing about. Life is...I don't know what life is at the moment. Life is. How's that?

I don't advocate violence. No I don't. But, boy were they HAWT angry. Yes. *cough*

Pwn me they do...

2007-07-28T01:05:06Z

These are the photos that pwn my world at the moment.

RIISE!! And Danny. They just gave you liddle dots for eyes. BWAHAHAHAHAHA.

But...don't you think this positioning is better?

British = Grumpy. Spanish = lalalala

Do I need to explain why?

Gotta love 'em boys..

2007-07-25T12:35:01Z

You know why I love my team?

Because after all the money (and the insane buzz) that has been spent on strikers, our 'old boys' - a left back, a defensive/holding midfielder and a defender - are the ones that score. Yes. *nods*

And the result of Rafa-bean's midfield kink which resulted in our 768597497 midfielders?

A very tall, very blonde, Sami. Bemused. Somewhat smirking. In midfield. Slapping Agger's ass on his way in.

I really, really love my team.

My boys. Your boys. Our boys. Hello.

2007-07-18T13:34:52Z

I miss my sulky boy.

Even if he is covered by dastardly watermarks.

Is it ok that I kissed the screen where the tip of his nose is?

And liddle Chabo needs to on keep smiling like this. Pepe is his friend. Pepe makes him hapee

Real life has got me by the metaphorical knads. I'm so sorry if I haven't been posting or commenting. I can't wait till August 11. Also, is there anyone other than me that finds Rafa-bean-with-the-goatee hawter than Torres?

Farewell sweetheart. I miss you more than I ever thought I'd would.

2007-07-05T15:13:54Z

Today I bade good-bye, with tears and one kiss...

I hate that you never got the chance to say a proper goodbye. In Red. With the ball at your feet. I would have loved one last chance to clutch at my hair and yell at you not to freaking lose the ball AGAIN. And then run around doing a funky chicken dance as you score some miraculous, spectacular, totally unexpected goal.

Go on. Set their world alight.

But you'll always be OUR Little Luis.

Goodbye. Godspeed. Sweet dreams. And never stop smiling.

Fear

2007-07-04T13:26:19Z

It has begun.

I am afraid to look at my f-list. If you know me, you'll know why.

TRANSFORMERS! Robots in Disguise!

2007-07-01T04:59:57Z

I've been in love with this guy since I was 10 years old.

I'm sorry Dan. I'm sorry Chabo. I'm sorry Detective Flack.
I'm sorry Army Captain in movie with the Big Gun and all the sweat.

OPTIMUS PRIME. My One True Love.

Tell me this...

2007-06-17T16:09:01Z

Tell me one book/author you love and why.

Tell me one book/author you loathe and why.

Please?

Fic: Daniel Agger / Stephen Finnan

2007-06-17T02:46:10Z

Title: 5 Times Stephen Finnan Tried Not To Laugh
Pairing: Daniel Agger / Steven Finnan and guest appearance by Duck.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: If only it were true but it's not.
Summary: "And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh."

Author's Note: Written in about, er 10 minutes while chatting with Paula who helped with mistakes in spacing and grammer. But I'm sure there still are. Mistakes. And Grammer issues. I haven't written in a while so, yeah. I miss Duck. And I miss Luis.

O_o

1. How he downloads Ireland's matches in secret. And watches them on his computer. Late at night. With Duck on his chest. All the while expounding on how unsuitable the Irish Central Defender is in his role besides Finnan. And how he, Daniel Munthe Agger would have done much better. And he'll make Duck agree. And Duck will quack sleepily. And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh.

2. How he never quite understands what Luis Garcia is saying. Or Masche. Or Arbeloa. But will listen and will laugh anyway. And how he replies to every single comment Luis makes with a Danish-accented Si Si. And how that one time, Xabier walked over and warned Danny that one day soon, he'll live to regret every single Danish-accented Si he gave to Luis. And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh.

3. How he wakes up and forgets where he is. And reaches over to the right where his bedside table is only to abruptly realise that Finns' bedside table is over on the other side. And how he almost topples out of bed with a startled yell. And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh.

4. How he pretends to be all grown up but can't help himself when Riise asks him to hide Luis' boots in his locker, because of all the guys in the room, it is his, Xabier's, Hyypia's and Carra's that Luis will never dare think to look (or so Riise thinks). And Xabier had said no, and Riise was too terrified to ask the other two. And Danny will agree. But when Luis comes over, all upset and hair askew, Danny will freeze, and Danny will stutter, and Danny will tamely hand the boots over. And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh.

5. How he's terrified of disappointing Rafa or Pako. How he struggles to accept the fact that he will not be playing the next match. How he respects and admires Sami and hates him all at the same time. How he'll kick the locker door in frustration and yell out obscenities in garbled Spanish and Danish and English. And Finns will watch from the door, and Finns will try not to laugh. Because Daniel is so young. And because Daniel has so much more before him to curse about. So Finns will walk over. And Finns will smile. And Finns will say it's time to go home Daniel, so hurry on up.

THE END

Danny boy and the Scouse Mentality

2007-06-17T01:38:56Z

Not a new article but still...Carra pwns my soul. And the best thing about our boys is that they're a team. Walk on Redmen.

O_o

Agger shows bottle to leave Drogba thirsty
By Alan Smith
Telegraph UK
23/05/07

Bottle. Courage. Nerve. Call it what you like, but that's what it came down to in this extraordinary affair after 210 minutes failed to separate these sides.

Perhaps sheer force of will was also involved, since a rampant Anfield, you felt, just would not be denied on a night that compares with all the classics in Liverpool's proud history, if you use tension and stress as a yardstick.

And talking of bottle, you have to give a mention to the man who set the ball rolling, the man who needed a solid game for his own peace of mind.

In scoring the opener on this remarkable night, Daniel Agger had answered an awful lot of questions. In side-footing home a beauty from the edge of the penalty area, Liverpool's centre-half had shown a great deal of character and, in doing so, maybe put his own mind at rest.

Thinking about it now, it must have been a miserable six days for the 22-year-old. The events of Stamford Bridge had surely seen to that after the defender had been horribly exposed by the raging bull known as Didier Drogba. For Chelsea's powerful centre-forward, it was just one of those games when he came out on top in almost every single tussle.

For Agger, what's more, this was a fairly new experience. Since joining from Brondby last summer, this composed, ball-playing Dane had rarely come second best in one-on-ones. His debut Premiership season, in fact, was turning into an unqualified success.

You can imagine his angst, then, after being given the runaround in such a huge game. The memory was never going to be cleansed until the chance came to make amends.

It was obvious from the start last night that Drogba fully intended to try his luck again. Pulling across to Agger's side, the striker attempted to outmuscle his opponent once more, the difference being this time that Liverpool's No 5 appeared stronger - more prepared, maybe - than he had in west London.

Staying tight, giving as good as he got, Agger was determined to avoid another embarrassment. At one point, that seemed to involve crashing into his opponent from behind as the ball came fizzing in. Closer inspection revealed that a frustrated Drogba was just trying it on, holding his head theatrically when no contact had been made.

Helping Agger on his way, though, was Liverpool's added resilience as a team. Spurred on by deafening support from a throbbing Kop, a more compact outfit rarely left gaps for their marauding visitor. Jamie Carragher, for one, was seeing to that. As the absolute embodiment of Scouse defiance, Carragher kept on yelling across to Agger over the incessant noise, offering advice, making sure that his partner didn't switch off.

On the one occasion in the first half that Drogba did wriggle free, his shot pummelled into Jose Reina's body and away to safety.

That chance came just a few minutes after the only goal. With Steven Gerrard lining up a free-kick on the left, few of the Chelsea players expected a square ball. Even so, there was an awful lot of work to do from 17 yards out, but Agger swept the ball home beautifully with his left foot, his shot perfectly placed to beat Petr Cech's grasping dive.

With the crowd serenading Liverpool manager Rafael Benitez at the end, the Spaniard came across to hug his man.

Benitez is known as a manager who doesn't get close to his players, who doesn't give many pats on the back when performances deserve it. Well, if that is true, he was clearly prepared to make an exception here.

One of his key players had stayed firm and resolute to help set up a night in Athens that will surely require a bit more bottle still. In that particular direction, Agger has proved that he doesn't come up short.

Dear Rafa bean...

2007-06-16T11:52:27Z

Dear Rafa-bean,

I love you, you know that right? And while I've been scaring much of the human population with my jaunty jigs of joy at the signings of Steven Gerrard, Jamie Carragher, Pepe Reina and who was that other guy? That other Spanish lad? That central midfielder? I can't quite recall his name but I'm sure you know whom I'm referring to.

Anyway, as I was saying, while I have being doing my jaunty jigs, my jigs have lost a little of its jaunt at the moment because, well, Rafa-bean, you haven't yet re-signed this guy...

So yes.

I look forward to seeing Mr. Finnan in a Red shirt for at least 3 more years to come yes?

With all my love,
Aionaeon

O_o

What was his name again?

Because I can't quite recall...

I know there were 'crusts' involved...

And a little boy called 'Lloyd'...

But Lloyd is not his name...

Because Lloyd isn't a Spanish name...

It had something to do with being savvy...

Or kinda plump...

Ah. Now I remember. Chabo. Oh. HELLO.

Boys from the Bus, Part 2. No it's still not Porn.

2007-06-10T04:10:03Z

And this one.

For Mr. Finnan's big bag. And like one second of Danny. *GRINS*

And where Chabo comes after Agger *GRINS BIGGER* (I blame Meg)

Boys from the Bus. No, it's not Porn.

2007-06-10T03:56:36Z

At 52 seconds.

OH CHABO. YOU KILL ME.

And FINNAN has fans! A liddle fan-boy! AWWW. Mr. Finnan.

It's a tough decision so I'm taking both.

2007-06-09T08:16:34Z

I'm sorry, but have you guys seen these? Because I haven't and I want to yell, 'WHY HASN'T ANYONE SHOWN ME THESES?'

Oi Vey. Scary.

Liddle Danny in a kit several sizes to large. AWWWWWW.

Boy likes to spread his legs.

My last words on Chabo-gate

2007-06-08T15:57:46Z

Carra bleeds Red.

Xabi just bleeds pretty.

One man does not a Liverpool Football Club make.

That being said, Awwwww. Chabo.

Here's to 2012.

And here's to Pepe who also signed by the way, and is also the ONLY goalkeeper we have at the moment. Anyone notice that?

Xabier Alonso Olano

2007-06-07T12:25:08Z

I've scoured the presses, in English, in Spanish and yes, dear friends, in Norweigen as well. And this is what I have gathered.

Next season,

1) Xabier Alonso Olano will stay on with Liverpool
2) Xabier Alonso Olano will not stay on with Liverpool.

While I realise that these may be two rather, well, conflicting statements, they are the only two statements that I feel comfortable writing with complete and utter certainty.

And before anyone starts yelling at me in CAPS, note that I did not say I arrived at any definitive conclusions. I merely said this was what I had gathered.

Oh well.

Just my two cents on the saga that is Xabier Alonso Olano's future.

I'm tired of the speculation. I'll believe it when I see 'Xabi Alonso signs till 2011' on lfc.tv and not a second sooner.

So there.

O_o

Edited to add:

From the Guardian:-

How England could do with dropping a few of the first-on-the-teamsheet names like Michael Owen (past it), Steven Gerrard (all at sea without an Alonso or a Mascherano), Frank Lampard (one-dimensional), John Terry (consistently found out at the highest level in the Champions League) or Paul Robinson (immobile).

BWAHAHAHAHA. Never have truer words been uttered.

Chabo can't leave. He's grabbing Stevie's ass! Look!

2007-06-05T13:52:25Z

Look what paularinaa made me! LOOK!

I laughed so hard I dropped the boys on the street. Then I laughed madly as I scrambled to pick them up. It was not my most dignified moment.

Guess who's who. GUESS.

Anger looks good on my boy.

2007-06-02T22:23:22Z

Oh HELLO Daniel. *pats*

Danny. Not bending his knee. hashfakjsfhlakfhals

What are you doing? DON'T TOUCH HIS DOORKNOB HEAD! That's Mr. Finnan's doorknob head!

I giggle. I can't help it.

Angry Daniel. HAWT.

SERIOUSLY. HAWT. I mean SERIOUSLY.