Touching Point

If I could take you further, we'll stop at cherry point. One arm on the side, to put myself in nostalgic dreams.

..............

I genuinely miss having my friends around. The time has somehow trap me in the lines. Pulling me from contact. Complaining on 'I wasn't like this before' seems pretty stupid when you're no longer that moping cow. If by stating such could revert you back to the person you were, I'd do that in a heart beat.

I want my fast legs, good eyesight, non-anxious head, and soft skin back. But the life isn't fair so I could only mope and kick some steel around, and be the horrible child.

Eh, I still have my lazy self attached. And the friends whom I could no longer point out and scream the names out. Maybe a few.

Potting With The HP

I watched the first part of Harry Potter. It ended with people or things dying, and Harry the Whiny Twat becomes a gravedigger. Fantastic.

Since I have only watched the first three, two minutes in " What the fuck is going on here? What is it this way and who are those people." I wanted to ask my friend but she was too hooked on the lines, I don't even think she knew I was next to her.

That's the danger of improper trail in the sequence of inventions. I don't read the book and essentially, I don't care for it. I thought watching it would be fun since it is imaginative, and impressive coming from a supposedly single mother who was on the brink of being a bum, or she was a bum then she got on the train and found magic.

Who knows what is the exact story. All we know, she got the idea when she was eating a 10 quid muffin.

Nonetheless, I would watch the second part.


While watching it and they were mentioning Voldemort (OMG) or his funny face was on, I remembered a friend believing it was stupid for the name we shall not mentioned (I knew she was making fun of Shamalan's yellow thing) to not change his name into a common one, Jamie, John etc. Since in that case, it could be easier for him to kill others as they didn't know he has changed his name. Potter playing board game going 'Hey Jamie, I just got a new-" and Bam he's dead. Thanks to the trip to court for a name change and Harry Whiny Potter is dead.

Yeah

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6 The Bible
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zifon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Inferno - Dante
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams -
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factoy - Roald Dahl
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

BBC


I know a lot of people have been posting this and emailing this around with text of 'How many have you read' or 'OMG. I HAVE READ 80% OF THIS.". The latter being a twat sending junks to my inbox. Seriously, who gives a fuck about a list of books I, apparently, should read.

I hate it when people believe they're better than everyone just because they read 'better' books. Come on now, I read 'Buddy' and I get to save a year without having to go for Grade 4.

Susan Boyle

Is it difficult to digest in the fact I could very well download Boyle's voice and listen to it. After all the hard thumping sounds, I must balance my ear out with some Susan Boyle's. She's not that bad if you forget how she was first seen in BGT.

I don't fancy her, I just enjoy the feeling when her voice kicks in and you realized she was, all along, living with cats. Impressive.

Under Thin Air

Fixating eyes on walls. Walls against every memories.


.....................

Currently wishing I am always where I want to be. With Hanna and the cats, and the others. Well it's not possible to be with the cats since half of them have died. It could've been a happy day if we are scheduled for New Queasy, instead of the place we've been to. Sorry HH, I know we're supposed to be an inch within each other for Christmas, but the lady from past commences for family parties marathon.

It's nice having your old friends around you. Just to save some tears and awkward moments during the first hour of face off.

Fragapalooza in June? Where's the damn piggy.

DD

When any compressed words cannot convey faithful emotions.
We look at ourselves in different direction.

When no warmth can be signalled by our breaths.
We stop searching for the wind.

When moving pictures become static.
We will let ourselves go.






I must release myself from this edge where stupidity meets.

Slip On

I have always envy my own mother.

She seems to be happy without clear marks of age and healthy smile.

She's travelled to half of the worlds' population dwellings, without being a douchy lady to others.

Before I know her,

She was a lousy student, yet a brilliant one. Apparently, from her mates revelation on her past, she never really cared in revisions and studies after classes. She spent her days watching awful soaps and game shows. Though those hopeless past has gotten her a place in her life.

Now I have furnish my life with her presence, I learn a lot more about the world by just trying to listen to her.

I remember her telling me how the laziness caught up with her when she was offered several jobs in DC, evidently she did not accept such. It appears it is not about being lazy or restless, it is a matter of being content with her life, which is something I admire her for.

She often calls me for a mental opening. For me to remember to be thankful and content with my life. Being a teenager, it has not cling on to my mind and my soul.

Which made me realized, I not even half a man I was supposed to be.

I was always vindictive due to the chances she had passed. Non-existence of a realization that the shaking head she had gestured, was made in pursuance to my needs. If she had continue with the scholars program, I might not be writing this. If she had taken the offer and moved us all to DC, I will never have met the people I have now, and perhaps became that douchy girl. And if she had let me leave her for the snaps and drapes, I would probably be somewhere in the world, regretting every minute of it.

These frames have showed me how much of a horrible daughter and a person I am. Improvements are under construction but I believe it is about knowing what should be made known earlier. Nothing is to late to learn eh?

Since she was on the telly twice, she often addresses her dream of seeing me looking like a fool in it. This came about as I always made fun of her for being unfunny. I do hope I would try dragging my feet to any of the castings I was asked to go. But I know I will never fancy that kind of life. All I want to do is sleep my way through the dreams and wake up feeling all shitty before breakfast. Not the other way around.

Guess I am a bit content with my life. Guess I am listening to my mother, even of an inch. Guess I am not as bad of a person I thought to be.

In Light

It's nothing like the light when we stop chasing. When we stomp on the grass thinking no such luck would depends on it. We run through the mirrored sea. Reflecting our losses and warmths. Fights that flicker whenever it gets by. Forgotten the faces that we've driven off without a second glance. Just maybe we haven't realized. That the lights never really swing above us. Or fights the current to navigate our senses. Just maybe. All along. We've been living without it. Without it pushing through the empty vessel inside us. Vessel of our half-clinging life.



....................


I had the chance to have a terrific conversation with a nice Spanish boy. It was all nice as we speak of football and telly shows that have more than an inch of relevance in it. His picture on the screen is almost an attachment of a story that holds in mine. When I figure it, I know it's way too good to be good.

Terrible luck or star runs in my family. So you could say we have a sixth sense in feeling a bad vibe approaching in situations. And most of the time, we got it in our hands.

As words travel through the pixelated push, I find the feeling inside. Some might say you're lucky to find someone as such. But the L word doesn't exist in mine.

Then, after few more minutes to an hour, I come to my final judgement, with a concrete facts and evidence, that the Spanish boy often walks the other side. If you have no idea what that means, it means he fancies another being of his own build and gender.

I know the cometh would carry such effect on me, since it's not a wonder a person of everything you've dream of would either be a bastard or a homosexual (I believe it should be asexual). Hence my night was spent thinking, he might have thought I was a boy considering the manner we both speak in.

I should thank my mother for disallowing me in developing more like a boy, because then I might fancy girls, and girls are the worst kind any girl should be in a relationship with.

I should have known when he comment on how much of a nice chap D.M is.

Carousel

Via ThisShit


This is what happens when you can't look at the books no more. I was browsing through the web and found a site where you could dress this funny lady up in your own taste. Stupid, I know. But in desperate time. this will entertain me enough. A friend actually thinks this is something I would wear, except that I don't own any colourful cardi.

Which brings me into going through the forum in FashionSpot. They have a thread of 'Trends you are sick of' and I gladly agree with most of it, considering how I have to keep the face when seeing such in front of me.

However, one stated Vans footwear. I didn't know it was a trend until they posted few pictures showing 'this' kids wearing such. To my surprise, I ended up hating it as well. Not the footwear, the kids who make such into a trend.

What's a fucking trend anyway? A well accepted clothes or just a sad excuse to be cool. Nonetheless, it is stupid and no one should pay attention to it. It angers me to see kids wearing clothes, which they carefully examined just to show people they're hip and cool and eclectic. As much as I know I am at the losing end, I am glad, people in the FS are on the same side as I am.

I may not be a fashion girl, but I know how to value things for money. An expansive and horrible looking sweater is such a disgrace if you vowed your eyes to fashion magazines. Sorry love, you are as daft as the magazine.

Who Do You Want To Be Today

Who doesn't love a quirky bastard in a band.




I need my casual tea and a house full of foam. Since awful weather and people won't get me by.

Ever So After

I've always covet for a Mulberry, now after three years, I bought one from the old collection. It got less expansive.

Though I promised to not buy more unnecessary things, I have, in defence, gave away most of my bags. Besides, we'll try to throw in our bad luck when we hit the fruit machine (or whatever picture they now place in there).

On a better note, I bought a used Emile Zola's book (or a read book) with a memorable note that goes "When you're not under the sun, come search for me in this sea".

I couldn't be bothered at first, then I realized, I could be picking up people's dreaded lives and the past they wish they would have kept. Though I never get people who sell their books, especially those who did such with comics. Such a loss.

The reason we're all fucked up

This works because the boy in the picture looks proper serious in being what he thinks he could be.


here

I have the exact pair and sold it off, without having it paid.

Another reason why I should settle for one. :(

Fools Are In You

Parade and chant for your brick end. Pose around the images of your catastrophe. Cling on to it. Grab it quick. Cry on a life that is never easy. Suave your way. For them to witness, the build from the past.


...............................

The one thing I can't stand the most in people. The words on how hard their lives were and still are. I get it, your life is misguided by terrible events. And now you're a toughie. Seriously, everyone goes through shit in their lives so have a decency to not dumb yourself down by exposing a small magnitude of the calamities in your life.

I'm not as old and 'wise' as you are, but I am sure I have gone through a deeper hole than you. Get over yourself, you fool.

Life's hard, don't boast about it.

Bubbie

Gaze into the endless pit lies within me.
And find me.
Search within the unkempt bush of façade.
And feel me.
For I has gone beyond the stretch.


............................

We made that bubble thing in a class. Bored to the point where, we're begging for the lights waiting beyond that tunnel to flick on to us.

It (the bubble) was supposed to be a creature of some sort. Due to humidity and stupidity, it looked more like a crumbling piece of nothing. Though the stench was rather tasty. Haha


..............................

Mum: *Reading a book*
L: *Saw the word RPG*. Hmm RPG. Do you what RPG is?
M: Yeah, People of something, Republic People ehhh
L: ......................
M: *Smiles*
L: It's the weapon. *mimicking how it is used*
M: Oh, *continues reading*

Most of All

A) There are people who think you're pretty. (Laughs) They must be blind.
B) You don't have cheekbone. I mean, not as prominent as mine.
C) It's funny. You don't really have a shape.
D) Don't get me wrong. I don't think you have a style at all.


The few things that are thrown at me by girls who, in fact, declare themselves as the friends who are better than me. Stupid statement indeed, and how wrong are they. (On B and C anyway, the rest are up for personal debate).

I don't like girls or female beings (most).

The Serpentine

Being reminded by an isolated dream has really put me off. The fact that I could no longer run around on the paths does not necessarily means I do not feel attached to it. The only memento is a picture of a teenage girl with mismatch shoe laces. I blame the job jumping mother who would not settle for one. No, I blame the frantic bosses who would not stop pulling her into their lives.

I thought we could go back for Christmas to see our family friends, and mine, who I will not succeed in recognizing them, boo. And perhaps rekindle the broken string caused by an unfortunate wedding.

Instead, the place where my parents spent most of their teenage years is where we could spend our Christmas. Stupid trams and dangerous roads. Terrible eh?

Dream

Your chest against the window. Searching for solace in my shadow. Breathing the air from the wall. Grasping the life by your side.

If it is ever real and constant. I will let you see me. If it is ever strong without your strength. I will come in your dreams.

By every night and day I call you. To beseech for needs. Unable to calm the wind, or tame the cruelty surrounding you. To rent another seconds with thoughts on me. On no one else but me.

Though I have no place in reality. In moving picture or stale frame. No pieces to find. To try and sense.

Without you I cannot exist. Without you I can never be real.


.............................



This is one of my favourite video from one of my favourite song. It can really takes you off your mind and put you somewhere no one else can venture into. They have a Part 2 of the song and it is even more beautiful.

This kind of song made me realized how the bad image painted by others on mainly metal music, is an absolute nightmare. I rarely come across a demonic song of satanic purposes. Probably but unlikely (Stairway to Heaven for fuck sake, and you enjoy it).

Nonetheless, I wish I could go deep into my own dreams (some of it) since it is the only avenue I could explore myself without touching reality sensitivity. Perhaps I could head into the loony bin and commit to such.

Perhaps this should all be a dream.

Aching Faith

" Pray to God that I don't believe in "

It's a line from a song made famous by some band, whom knowingly by others, will never be identified by me.

When I listen to such line, the feelings of remorse and pity are forced out of me. I do think it's such a sad thing for anyone to not have the confidence to find God, and worse, starts turning into scientific faith. Am not much of a religious cloud myself, though I do believe there is a vital channel in which comes, finally, to the faith you're holding on.

However, when I start looking deep into my own self, I find it hard to digest on the fact, I'm one of which who divert herself out of any faith in life. For a start, I never really believe in luck, destiny and 'plan'. For me, everything that happens in life is a way of pushing the idea on how life will never be fair to you, which somehow often gets to close. It's ridiculous to think everything is tailored made to suit your circumstances, as it is only a ploy in making you feel you're an inch away from the deliverance. A ploy to coat your very emotions in separating the lines between happiness and everything else.

Faith has nothing to do with luck, destiny, plan, and anything along those trails.

And my God, has nothing to do with the faith.

Pavy

I'm sure it would be evident to know which I would fancy, since the other two are a bit scary to look at.

I don't really watch Vanity Lair since it started, but the re-run made me. With Pavle on, it's even harder to resist.

The show is, without a doubt, a silly concept in taking a piss on the idea of 'beautiful people'. With Ms. Chung constantly portraying as another 'beautiful' people and mentioning that every time she talks to the participants doesn't make it better.

Though, the man up there with Nick (if that is his name) are real fun to watch when mixed with the real vainholes. They actually and constantly separate themselves from the group due to the others' 'beautiful' traits. Even coined a name for the stupid kid who complains about the hair thing.

Fuck it, I watch the show because Pavle is fit. No reason for me to make justification since it's a pointless and ludicrous show and no one should ever think about joining it or make a new one out of it, or even watch it.

It's basically about a used-to-be quite interesting girl turned oh-my-gosh-I-bagged-an-indie-boy-and-I'm-cooler-and-prettier-and-a-fashion icon (I used to think she was fun but then, she proved me that all models are alike) as the host, deliberately annoying others with her 'witty' lines and at the same time narrating the days (big brother style) of the moronic beauties in the house.

The house consists of some people, a boy who became a gal who is a glamour model, men with make up and nail colours, girls with cakey make up and hideous tan and Pavle and Nick. They stay in the house and one day there'll be three new people hoping to join the sadness of the life in the house and only two will make it and somehow, the next day only one will make it and the one will remove the existing member and live another week without seeing the light of happiness or anything at all.

Confusing? Not really. I just make it appears as such so that no one will watch it, even though it's a re-run.

Hefty Dreams

'I want a huge old building and have mass rituals'

The exact words from my own self, scribbled on an old piece of paper in my school book.

Nothing really change I guess besides the fact I now understand that I do not need a huge old building to conduct rituals. In spite of the scribbled wish, I still am unable to do such, for a scarce in human anticipating for an upcoming rituals.

Have never conduct or witness any, which instigate my dream of having one.

How nice it would be to know anyone who is not mentally mental, to have a similar interest in the things I enjoy. Like reading obituaries in the morning papers.

Pimp-ish Pot of Leppys'

Greenish-bruised sleeve
opened up wishes.
On the image
to be painted.

Oozing mockery
under few loves.
Holding hard proof
by callous breaths.

Pots of gold
for a pool of blood.
A stamp of spots
for an endless mark.


..............................

I have this greenish-bruised sleeve, as a product of an eventful incident. It is never an accessory I wish to carry, though a reminder on my existence. It has been a subject of mockery and hateful sing along, which is sad, having it coming and revolve around my household.

Regardless of the stupid manner it being appreciated, I am quite happy to have the honour of holding such, since it being said by members of strangers murmuring the coming of luck hidden under it.

I might very well be made fun of, or having names called for having it. At the very best, I know those friends who never treat it like how the features in my current episodes treat me, will be in me.











Does neon lights, jumping animals and old history part of the deal for the pimp-ish pot from leppy?

Flight On

The emergent conscience blinking upon her sight. Counting colours while clutching the head lights. She is under every troops. To keep the threads in line. She blesses the air and curses the sun. Not keeping others. Not knowing much. Witnessing creatures assigning wrath. Her channels through their hasty fights. By losing everyone in a lightning night.

..........................

It could have been faster if I flick through the channels without putting in any consideration, since I no longer enjoy the telly as much as I used to. Same issue plastered all over for me to decipher? When it concerns a bunch of annoying friends who keep telling others on the friends' secrets, there is nothing for me to analyze or even bother.

People or 'friends' are generally funny. Causing them to constantly making you feel terrible about the slightest thing in life. Like, calling you ugly because one of your eyes happens to be looking weird, and putting you down because your shoes have dirts on it.

Seriously, I don't understand why 'friends' have this urge to say nasty things about you just when you are out of the gloom. 'I got terrible result', 'Poor you, and you smell and ugly.'. There is a reason why we name them as our friends and not just random acquaintance. If you have nothing nice to tell your friends, don't bother speaking to any of them. Criticizing is on thing, mindless bashing is another.

I get it, we all say nasty things about others, but not when you are supposedly under a close ties. We should know better how the friend would feel if we say some things. Calling your friend stupid when you know he/she has been struggling with a mental issue (alzheimer)and telling others your friend is ugly when he/she is in recovery after a horrible accident (bad sun exposure).

There's a reason why we're friends you douche. I think you're a bit ugly and dumb, but did I say it to you straight?

Hence, the reason why I would not bother having another 100 friends. I know better people are not necessarily interested in having you as another shoulder and hands to keep.




Though it's funny how I keep complaining. I guess I am a douche to my own self. Self douche-ry.

Just Maybe

You are not as good as you think you are. Telling your equally stupid wife not to become like a mother of mine who you stamp as 'a divorcee with tons of boyfriends', probably open up my mind on how much of a scumbag you are.

Before I could begin,

To say such thing is as revolting as looking at you giving me advice in life.

Coming from a married piece of shit shagging any girls he get makes me nauseas.

And boy, advising your wife who parade herself with her younger man is like teaching a cow how to swim.

If you really think your money and 'knowledge' validate every statement you make, you are as pathetic as I now know you are.

I would not mind if you end up in a ditch holding plastic cup for change because frankly, you do not deserve any treatment from even a mugger, sick bastard.

I know for a fact my mother or even myself are not much of an angel, though we never turn our backs on the glass. Nonetheless, my condolences to you to not realize how much your whole money-constructed life is no better than others. If you think you are better than everyone else, do not fucking bother being with everyone else.

Next advice you should tell your wife, do not fucking come to the divorcee's house for a swim, and treat others as an excuse to not see your stupid face. Bastard.

A Scottish Mob

By now, I think people should be aware on the fact that, that fatty behind United is in or under the Scottish Mob. Maybe that sounds a bit offensive. (Rephrase) That fatty who manages United for over 20 years is in relation with the Scottish mob.

Behind the team would not justifies his 'efforts' in managing the team. Hence explaining, the reigning title and impressive records under the name of Alex Ferguson (Sir, Yes)

I know this may seem like something out of the jealousy box, but really, it is quite impossible for man to escape all the scrutiny and public bashing. How can a man command part of Manchester to be an absolute dickhead and instruct a massive attack on the people who supports The Reds.

I mean, really. Quite surprised no one has ever noticed his grim activity.

He is considerably overweight, under a lot of stress frequently, baby-ing over the concern of better club, and constantly putting the 'enemy' on his radar.

How much more can I say?

He has nothing more than an evil and wary face.
He never instigate any conversation with other managers.
Not very chatty eh?.
He assaulted the wimp and he got away with it.
No one question about it.
He murdered a young man with great potential in The Reds. Notice how we lack in young players?
Okay, perhaps I made that up but who knows.
He is an evil conniving chap, who probably has more evil under the belly than we ought to believe.
He is an ego magnified man in/under the mob.

If he is a regular fat arse, why would he worry over silly matter like Manchester City. And how did he get all the young boys to come over and stay despite his well known tantrum and ludicrous requests. We know how Wenger does it but that is a completely different spectrum in this theory.

He has got the full criteria of a mob, a cunning one. It is a wonder why none of his boys ever criticized him. People are people and they do fall under some mistakes, but Fergie, no man, he got it under cover like the bodies he has snatched.

Such a shame he will not stop moaning about Liverpool. Constantly trying to pull our blood pressure up with his silly remarks.

I could very well salute him in carrying the club victoriously. Though, that did not happen due to his unprofessional attitude towards thing.

Open your eyes people, he is a mob and we should end this despotic years under him in football. I do not have an ill feeling towards him, I just have no love for a mob like him.

If you love the game, sign up for a free trial in the investigation of the Sottish mob on www.youmustbemadtothinkiamthismad.org

May the evil runs off the pitch.

Ps: If you do believe (and have full confidence) in me, I love you. But you may have to consult a psychiatrist.