The way the season ended last year may have been one of the most heart-breaking ways I have ever seen a season end. The rollercoaster that he second half of the season turned into, I honestly did fear would be the end of me. They say it’s the hope that kills you, and as we gained points on City until, at last, overtaking them, gave us hope. However, much like Carlos Tevez and modelling, winning last year’s league trophy just wasn’t meant to be for the Reds. And that hurt. A lot. Not so much because we didn’t win it, just because of the how they did win it. City had the better team last season they should have had it wrapped up long before they actually did, but they had to take it down to the final day of the season, which took us from cheering to crying (I admit that actually was what happened in my case) in a manner of minutes.
Which is of course football related, as nothing else is going to get me going quite like my team. I am absolutely bricking it. I can’t remember the last time I felt this sick during the final match of the season, although I’m wagering it’s been a few years.
Between having abuse shouted at me by classless Chelsea fans (yeah, I wear my green and gold in London, so f’ing what [I did tell them to go fuck themselves, of course I added a please in there as I'm just that kind of girl]) and being on a over crowded train which is way too warm and full of people who do not know the meaning of the word deodrant I’m feeling pretty sick, and that’s just my nerves.
I hate that it’s down to the last match of the season almost as much as I hate it’s not in our hands. Depending on Wigan to get a point or more at the Bridge whilst cheering our boys on to win may just become too much for me today, especially as I’m already losing my voice and feel like shit.
If there is a God, please please please let us win it. Only football can make an Atheist turn desperate enough to pray.
Come ON United, and go on the Lactics. Pretty please.
Late night call between Clegg and Brown confirmed, could it be that we may get what we want after all?
This is going to be a very very short post, as that’s pretty much all I wanted to say. However I have to admit it has got my blood pumping. Logically, and politically, Labour and the Liberal-Democrats are much more compatible than the posh twats and Lib-Dem are. Yes I realise Clegg’s a Cambridge graduate, but I’m sorry, the fact that he’s got a good education doesn’t mean he’s a posh twat, I know plenty of well educated people who’re complete and utter commoners. Which is good, because that’s my peeps.
If Clegg rolls over and decides to let Dave “please beat the posh twat out of me” Cameron fuck him up the arse, then I have to admit that will be it for me as far as the Liberal Democrats go. Clegg’ll have lost me as quickly as he’s won me, and I will not be the only one. Despite the disappointing amount of seats won by Nicky and his party, the actual percentage of votes were not at all that bad. Of course it could have been better, and perhaps if a bunch of people hadn’t tactically voted to keep the Tories out (that went well eh) they may have been.
So as I go to bed, I shall be keeping my hopes up that we will see a love story rivalling that of Titanic (I fucking hate that film, I was so happy when Leo Di Caprio’s character died, I actually laughed a little) developing between Gordy and Nicky. Oh how happy that would make me, and if nothing else it is keeping my mind off tomorrow and what it brings… the final match of the season. Ugh, Imayhaveaheartattack.com.
P.S. I’m holding out for a hero, I’m holding out for a lib-lab at the end of the day… It just popped into my head and won’t leave. Kinda catchy, no?