AllStampedOut
Member
- Joined
- Jul 5, 2010
- Messages
- 77
- Reaction score
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1st January 2008:
“He goes round the keeper and slots it into the net! It’s a goal!”
My friends cheered out sarcastically as I scored yet another own goal in our weekly match. I’ve been labeled as Captain Impossible because I made winning impossible for my team! I gritted my teeth as my friend gave me the thumbs-up. I moved to my usual spot and waited for the ball. I was fantastic mentally but honestly pathetic on the pitch. I guess retards that are talented could do better than “geniuses” with no talent whatsoever. Like I care. It’s just a game and there’s no real pressure. Even so, I’d like to prove them wrong. Someday.
2nd January 2008:
On my usual routine, Computer games till the night and then a meal outside and then a drink at the pub. My dad’s disappointed with these kind of sh*t, after I was branded by the education system, “a lot smarter than the average person”. What bullsh*t. As I logged on to my Facebook account, Twitter account and then open a new tab to Google, I typed in “TheFA.com”. The site came up after a minute or two and I saw the ad,
“Do you think you have the ability to become a coach, manager or scout? Apply here and we will send you on a course to enhance your abilities and groom you into a fine talent!”
I clicked the ad and applied for the course. I then closed the tab and went back to Facebook.
---------- Post added at 08:15 AM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 08:08 AM ----------
9th January 2008:
Been a week. Some hobo keeps pestering me whenever I pass by the local pub. Awesome eh? Now I get no booze. Mother f*cker. He must be REALLY happy now that I’m frustrated and annoyed. Honestly, which hobo stays outside a pub ALL DAY!? I’ve been doing a few push-ups now and then; gotta keep in shape, don’t I? Darn. Another food stain in this f*cking… what do they call that… journal. Got to go get a towel but damage seems minimal. Some burly dudes seem unhappy with me; somehow I offended them by punching their leader’s face. I mean, what the f*ck? It’s their fault. Bills have come in; honestly, with such a huge influx of bills, I think I might be killing at least a hundred trees. The FA hasn’t contacted me yet, I can’t see why, I live in Liverpool of all places.
“He goes round the keeper and slots it into the net! It’s a goal!”
My friends cheered out sarcastically as I scored yet another own goal in our weekly match. I’ve been labeled as Captain Impossible because I made winning impossible for my team! I gritted my teeth as my friend gave me the thumbs-up. I moved to my usual spot and waited for the ball. I was fantastic mentally but honestly pathetic on the pitch. I guess retards that are talented could do better than “geniuses” with no talent whatsoever. Like I care. It’s just a game and there’s no real pressure. Even so, I’d like to prove them wrong. Someday.
2nd January 2008:
On my usual routine, Computer games till the night and then a meal outside and then a drink at the pub. My dad’s disappointed with these kind of sh*t, after I was branded by the education system, “a lot smarter than the average person”. What bullsh*t. As I logged on to my Facebook account, Twitter account and then open a new tab to Google, I typed in “TheFA.com”. The site came up after a minute or two and I saw the ad,
“Do you think you have the ability to become a coach, manager or scout? Apply here and we will send you on a course to enhance your abilities and groom you into a fine talent!”
I clicked the ad and applied for the course. I then closed the tab and went back to Facebook.
---------- Post added at 08:15 AM ---------- Previous post was yesterday at 08:08 AM ----------
9th January 2008:
Been a week. Some hobo keeps pestering me whenever I pass by the local pub. Awesome eh? Now I get no booze. Mother f*cker. He must be REALLY happy now that I’m frustrated and annoyed. Honestly, which hobo stays outside a pub ALL DAY!? I’ve been doing a few push-ups now and then; gotta keep in shape, don’t I? Darn. Another food stain in this f*cking… what do they call that… journal. Got to go get a towel but damage seems minimal. Some burly dudes seem unhappy with me; somehow I offended them by punching their leader’s face. I mean, what the f*ck? It’s their fault. Bills have come in; honestly, with such a huge influx of bills, I think I might be killing at least a hundred trees. The FA hasn’t contacted me yet, I can’t see why, I live in Liverpool of all places.
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