Dead tired...and depressed

If ever I'm not depressed, please pop open a bottle of red wine [champagne is also acceptable]. I mean it.

I woke up with a bloody headache, and what I read in the newspapers today didn't help me one bit. It didn't even ease my raging headache, in fact, it made it even worse!

I read that Chelsea plan to sign Michael Ballack from Bayern Munich and they will sell FRANK LAMPARD to BARCELONA because apparently, the mother of his child [in case you don't know the penguin's name, it's ELEN RIVES and the child's name is LUNA] is from Barcelona, so he wants to stay there! I got so upset in the morning that I even pretended to stab myself in the heart [the way Sylvien and Priya always do it when they see something that disappoints them]. I AM SO GOD-DAMN DEPRESSED! WHY DO WE EVEN NEED MICHAEL BALLACK WHO IS A MIDFIELDER AND HAS KNACK FOR SCORING GOALS, WHEN WE HAVE A MIDFIELD LYNCHPIN NAMED FRANK LAMPARD WHO IS ALSO A MIDFIELDER WHO SCORES REGULARLY??? Pretty baseless and illogical anyway!

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

And I hope that bloody penguin he calls a wife [not me!] can sleep at night for what she's done! She won't have to deal with the split loyalties issue anymore if he moves to Barcelona. Stupid, ugly, and uncute penguin. I hate you so! I will throw daggers at you if ever I see you! ARGH...don't leave Chelsea! We need you there!

I'm so depressed to the point of of slapping my Scouser. My punching bag is back! =)

I know. I shouldn't abused my friends for my own benefit, but the Scouser doesn't mind. As long as I don't beat her in congkak [she still claims I cheat!]. Stupid Scouser.

Had to do my Malaysian Studies project. I think I might join Pengacara Jemputan Nona next time it come around. I hate it when you become one of those host that talk while they walk. It's so weird. I'm paranoid, like what my dear Sree says. I'm glad we have completed three quarter of it. Whee...more time for my other assignments!

When I tell people that I want to do things [say my assignments] by myself, I just get really annoyed when they tell me that I want to prove to my parents that I'm big enough and I want to prove to them that I'm independent. What on Earth was that about? I really don't ask my parents for help unless I really need it. What makes you think I'm so ditzy and stupid that I have to ask them to do everything for me? I know I'm not as intelligent and smart as you are, doesn't mean I don't have a brain to think of what I'm supposed to do. I do my work, and my parents like to have a last look at it before I hand it in. At least, my parents care about my homework to the extent of them doing spell-checks and being the walking thesaurus for me. I only seek help from my parents when I need it. Whatever you say may seem like a joke to you, but not to me. I have feelings too, you know. My feelings are so fragile, that I end up having very, very, very suicidal thought at times. So, please watch your words. It's not one person, in fact it's like almost everyone I know. So don't worry, YOU'LL NEVER WALK ALONE.

And anyway, Frankie didn't play in today's match against West Bromwich Albion. So depressed. But we won [As expected! If we lost, I'd do that whole stabbing motion for the whole of next week!]. 2-1 thanks to Didier Drogba and Joe Cole. Kanu pulled one back for the Baggies. I hope he's well enough to play for us against Barca this coming Wednesday...we need a BIG MIRACLE to win. Do you think we can win it? Yes, I certainly hope so.

Only time shall tell.

I'm so god-damn depressed. Anyone know anything that can make me feel good?

*Bluesy* out!