No Glove, No Love

I realise I aint got no life.

Everyday without fail, I log on to MSN to see which chica is on.
I go on Friendster to see who's viewed me and who's dropped a comment.
I go on FaceBook and read all my notifications and see who bit me, or superpoked me or nominate me for a Superlative.
Then, I click soccernet to read up on soccer news and tabloid fodder.
I go on football365 to cross-examine the results, the rumours and to read the humour-laced editorials by Sarah Winterburn or anyone else for that matter.
And, I go on footytube to see the videos of highlights of the matches played out that I;ve missed since Im so without cable.

Which comes to this conclusion: What suits me is a profession which involves intense sitting, desktop browsing, soccer-fuelled madness.

Soccer Journalism. I'll thrive.

And I'll get admirers everywhere from Friendster and Facebook and Ill set up my myspace and bed every other chica that messages "Hey, asl?"

And I've decided - I needa to-do list evry month for the year to get things done, to get me motivated, to get me moving and to get me off blogging, er, incessantly.
Maybe I can post the to-do list here so that I can blog whilst, you know... two birds .. one stone kinda thing.

And netizens, I think Ive found the perfect female foil for me.
Someone I can really talk to about anything under the sun.
Someone who can make out what I say when people say I talk with marbles in my gob.
Someone who laughs at my off-beat jokes.
Someone I dont feel rimas with.
Someone who I feel completely at ease with.
That someone.

And oh-perfect two second kiss. Fooh.