Hello, everyone. I'm Brendan Rodgers, the manager of... ah, who am I kidding. Everyone knows who I am. I've reinvented British football, after all. Hell, when you really think about it, my completely unique possession-based tactics have fundamentally changed this nation's sporting culture as we know it. When you ask people around the world who invented football, they'll tell you the British. But when you ask the British, they'll tell you Brendan Rodgers. And they'd be right.

Anyway, people come up to me all the time and ask me, "Hey there, handsome. It's a real pleasure to be in your presence, what with your incredible mind and impeccable people skills. How do you have everything figured out? How can I mimic your vision and be more like you?" Well, as of today you're in luck, as I'll be writing a weekly advice column for the fine folks of the greater Merseyside area. And while some may deem writing for a Liverpudlian audience to be an exercise in futility, I'm willing to do it anyway. Why? Because I'm more than just a football coach. When I accepted the job at Liverpool, I pledged my life to these fine city residents. And I'd be neglecting my duty as the greatest savior that the people of Liverpool will ever have if I didn't spread some of my wisdom beyond just matters of sport.

Of course, this being my first article, I've been unable to solicit any emails from my adoring audience. But never fear! Over the past week I've been canvassing the Merseyside area (the red part, mind you!) looking for Scousers that appear to need a little help. My tireless dedication to my craft resulted in seven car break-ins, four muggings, and six unique stab wounds that required 54 total stitches; however, it also resulted in the collection of some excellent questions, to which I will be happy to apply my expertise in overall affairs.

C.S. Lewis once said, "You can make anything by writing." Now that the above three paragraphs have made me his peer, I can go ahead and prove this accurate by making your problems disappear. Can't be that hard, right?

DEAR BRENDAN:

I'm a nice, average-looking guy who has a decent job and generally has my life in order. In fact, I've been kicking ass at work and I'm more secure financially than I've ever been. However, I've grown more and more socially isolated in recent months (mostly due to my new-found focus on my career), and as a result, I feel as if I've fallen out of the swing of things socially. To be specific, I feel like I'm a really boring person now, whereas before I wasn't. This has really hampered me with women; while before they were unimpressed by my disorganization and lack of maturity, now I feel as if I bore them to tears. How do I get back to being a fun person that other people want to be around, and finally take advantage of me getting my shit together? -Homebody Harry

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Brendan:

Well, Harry, you're certainly right about one thing: You're fucking boring. I stopped paying attention to your question halfway though and ended up staring at my reflection in a puddle for the rest of your little spiel. And let me tell you, what I saw in that puddle was aces.

But I can't just abandon you to your personal mediocrity without giving you a little insight as to how yours truly picks up women. See, its all a confidence game. If you walk into a pub thinking, "God, I have nothing to talk about," then you're setting yourself up for failure. But if you walk in with your head held high and trumpeting your peerless managerial record, then you'll be putting yourself in a much better position. And after that, it's all just momentum, right? And possession, too. Don't forget about possession.

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Here's what you should do: before you even go out, go to your bathroom (assuming it has a mirror and is indoors), look yourself in your dashing green eyes, and say exactly this phrase to yourself: "I'm Brendan Rodgers. I'm the best manager in the world, past, present or future. Without me, no one would know what Swansea is. Your managerial accomplishments shit all over Bill Shankly's grave. Now let's do this." It's an old Welsh trick, and if you do with sincerity you'll be shearing shagging ladies in no time. Just ask my wife Dolly!

DEAR BRENDAN:

A few months ago my father passed away suddenly. He was an extremely positive influence in my life, and without him I feel directionless and alone in more than one way. Even when I'm not thinking about him, the joy in my life is gone. How can I move on with my life instead of allowing this tragedy to dominate it? -Despondent Darren

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Brendan:

There there, Darren. Chin up. You have a new father now. His name is Brendan Rodgers, and he'll be leading your club to Champions League glory in a matter of months, don't you worry. And at any rate, your old dad probably wouldn't want you dwelling on his death anyway. He'd probably be more interested in revenge, like Hamlet's dad, or Batman's. So if you want closure, go ahead and kill the people responsible for his death. Frankly, that seems simple enough that I don't know why you'd be writing me in the first place. Step your game up next time.

DEAR BRENDAN:

I'm afraid I've made the biggest mistake I've ever made in my life. I was in a wonderful relationship with a woman from South America, and although she unquestionably had a few screws loose, we shared so many amazing moments together. However, we broke it off during the summer by mutual consent, and since I haven't been single in a while, I figured I'd replace her by casually dating a lot of different women. Unfortunately, I've had ZERO sparks with the seven women I've seen so far. They're boring and untalented and entirely inconsistent, and don't measure up to my ex at all. The worst is Maria, an Italian woman who combines all of my ex's insanity with none of her positive points; I feel compelled to be nice to her, but sometimes I wish she'd get right back on the boat to Milan. Meanwhile, my ex is in a brand-new relationship already! I feel abandoned and hopeless, and like my personal life is quickly swirling down the drain. Help me, please! -Rodger B.

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Brendan:

Fuck off. Just fuck off and die.

Anyway, I'd answer more of your questions, but if I make this article any longer, a lot of my readers are going to lose their voices. Unfortunately, this means a lot of you are going to have to wait until next week for your problems to be solved. But in the meantime, I would like for you, my adoring audience, to try to come up with some more questions for me. I can't be your hero if you don't help yourself help me help yourself, after all. And if you can't come up with anything? Just go ahead and reflect on how this article is single-handedly saving print journalism in this country. Hopefully my shining example will keep you out of trouble, and by extension this column about troubles.

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So, until next time, I'm Jesus Christ Brendan Rodgers, the manager for your Liverpool Football Club, and for your life in general. YNWA!