why so black and lonely?

Those close to me know that I’m mad about Pringles. Real mad about it. It’s been accompanying me throughout the years, and there’s always a can or two lying somewhere in my room or home.

The red can of Pringles has always been ever-present since as far as I can remember. I saw it in the family buffet, and even on top of the drug case as the can was recycled by my Mom to store the joss sticks. So I guess loving Pringles is not by choice or acquired taste for me. I’ve been subconsciously exposed to it since early age.

Pringles was faithfully by my side when I tackled Blytons, or Sheldons, Crichtons & Kings when I grow up, the numerous number of laser discs, and now DVDs. The funny thing is I never eat it outside my room or home. It just doesn’t feel right for me.

However, my somewhat unwavering loyalty to Pringles has been shaky for the last 2-3 years. The joy is missing from each can, and I actually stop after the first pop! Because it’s not salty anymore! I’m shocked as it’s like having Mr. Grey inside the body of your best friend!

I have no idea what’s wrong, and why they reduce the salt in their crisps. But I can tell you that the worst Pringles is definitely the one in this country. I haven’t got a single can that tastes as good as the one I used to have. Some sick fuck also decided to make the can slimmer which automatically resulting in smaller crisps. The crisp is no longer saddle-shaped, and it tastes more like cassava than potato!! That’s a cardinal sin to me which warrants an automatic trip to the noose for that sick fuck.

I can still get the correct taste once in a while in Jakarta, but it’s getting harder and harder lately. It’s hard to handle, especially when the craving attacks you. And I shamely admit that I’ve joined the dark side and bought this one.

It really saddens me when I have to turn to Pringles’ competitor just to get the same fun and enjoyment I used to have from it. I really wish it ends soon, as I still want to pop from my red can. And the red can only.

I hate it when the so-called pundits jumped on the United bandwagon and boldly declared that we’re going to win another Treble this season.

Yeah, right. If only games are won with words and names on the teamsheet.

They, of all people, should have known that you only win it when you score more goals than your opponent when the final whistle blown. Things can still go wrong in the next two months. Just look at those Arsehole clowns whose season went up in smoke in 11 days. Not that I’m sad about it though

My point is that people should just hold their horses for a while and keep their Treble-thought to themselves. Let’s talk about it when we have double digit points lead in the league with two games to play, and lead 3-0 in the Cup finals with 1 minute to play. Now, that’s the time to jump on the Treble bandwagon.

If we’re not still in that kinda position, just shut up and let us keep plugging away the victory from each remaining game.

On another note, last night’s game went on as expected. Tough and had banana-slip all over it. We, especially Rooney, looked tired and out of place, and I longed for Smudger to come in for Larsson. Even though Fergie must have wanted to keep the latter till the end for a fitting farewell.

Let’s just hope these annoying "extra" games won’t give more injuries to the already-thinning squad. We need all the bodies we can have till May.

One night, I wondered aloud about who would win if the chainsaw-wielding Reilly of Open Season fought a certain mutant with adamantium in the Celebrity Deathmatch style.

My wife, who was washing the dishes, cooly responded that Wolverine would come out triumphant as his adamantium claws would rip Reilly to pieces.

I countered her saying that Reilly is one badass beaver with that chainsaw; making him the Leatherface of the Animal Kingdom.

Then, my wife put the the argument to sleep by mentioning that Wolverine couldn’t get hurt. His injuries from the chainsaw would self-heal and she didnt’t know any beaver that could self-heal.

I was stunned as I was supposed to be the resident expert on superheroes in the house. That’s it then, no more comics & superhero movies for her anymore!

The doctor told me that I got tension headache, and informed of all the possible causes. It didn’t take a doctor to come up with those things, as I’ve already known about all it. I think it got worse due to my staying up for last night’s game. But hell, it was worth it to see Larsson saying goodbye to Old Trafford.

Further googling from the aforementioned headache finally puts a name to one of my worst enemies. One that would incapacitate me for several hours, and there’s absolutely nothing I can do when it attacks but vomiting and trying to sleep it off in a very dark room.

Say hello to migraine with aura.

I thought Fulham away last week was the most emotional game we had this season. Then, the trip to Anfield came along. It’s officially replacing that Fulham game. But, I’m not closing down the list, as there are still 9 games left and anything –absolutely anything–can happen.

In a game when Giggsy made his 700th appearance for us, the one thing United fans would remember long was how we didn’t deserve to win, but got our reward due to our persistence. Losing Scholesy was bad, and instead of camping in our own half, we ensured we took full advantage of the rare attacking opportunity to silence the Kop. We love you, Johnny O. You’re officially on the same level with Diego now.

I don’t give a single fucking damn for the 12-point lead, I just want to savour the moment; my adrenaline is still pumping high. Seeing the Gaffer & players celebrate really made my day. That image alone is more than enough for me.

Here’s hoping for the same images from the next 9 games!

You know that it’s gone from bad to worse when the IT guy suddenly out of the blue mentions something about your weight.