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blatantly stolen from redissue.co.uk :p
Entries written during Jan 2007




The Diary Of Louis Saha (Malingerer-In-Chief)

Monday:

Got up early ready to go to training but suffered terrible paper cut while opening junk mail from BUPA. Lost seven pints of blood, rushed to hospital where I contracted MRSI, then cracked pelvis falling out of bed while reaching for grapes Alan Smith had brought in. (Looking at his lips, I suspect he'd already eaten some of them.)

Tuesday:

Got up early ready to go to training but bit into free plastic model of Wife Swap's Lizzie Bardsley hidden in Coco Pops and dislocated jaw. Tried to dial ambulance but snapped flexor digitorum profundus of index finger due to particularly stiff number 9 button. Tripped getting off bus and fell into concrete mixer which was then hit by falling piano ... all in all, today was a good day.

Wednesday:
Contracted Leprosy after buying a Big Issue and then three different sexually transmitted diseases after sitting on a toilet seat at Carrington. Following an Acute Myocardial Infarction brought about by Wayne popping a bag of crisps I trip up and manage to wedge my mouth round Kieran Richardson's twin exhaust while he was revving up. I'm now back in hospital, for a Heart and Lung transplant.

Thursday:
After a series of mix ups in the Operating Theatre, I'm conjoined to a Siamese Twin seeking a reversal of a previous operation followed by a sex change. Fergie says I should be fit for Saturday though.

Friday:
Drove through Chorlton. Was savaged by dead cow. Am now doubtful for Saturday.

Saturday:

Told the boss I wasn't ready to play against Boro tonight. He called me a "****in' headcase" and punched me in the face and broke my jaw.

Sunday:

I head to church to seek some guidance from the Lord and redemption from these terrible afflictions but dislocate my hip whilst genuflecting. As the pastor rumbles down the aisle to see if I'm okay, the vibrations of the choir singing "Abide With Me" fractures my skull as I lay on the ground. The Last Rites were issued, including communion, but the severed my tongue and I pass out again due to blood loss. I'm consoled by the knowledge that God works in mysterious ways and I get paid on Tuesday regardless.

Monday:

Watch Henrik Larsson video in hospital and stab voodoo doll. Missus says I should get over it. I go to slap her but pull hamstring and dislocate wrist.

Tuesday:

Went to Zizzi's on the Strand. Was tucking into my Quattro Stagioni but ended up severing my own penis. The doctor said it couldn't be reattached.

Wednesday:

While stabbing Henrik Larrson voodoo doll again I inadvertently sever a radial artery. Slip on the blood while staggering out to ambulance now permanently stationed outside front door and stagger into kitchen cabinet. Bottle of mayonnaise falls out and breaks left metatarsal. Now what are the chances of that happening, eh?

Thursday:

Good day today, no new accidents to report. But apparently I am in a coma as I have lost 28 gallons of blood in the past week. If I awake I may be fit for Sunday (game, not church again).

Friday:

Still in coma. My name is Sam Tyler, I was a Premiership footballer playing for one of the greatest clubs in the land but somehow I've ended up back in the early Seventies battling relegation. The Boss has picked me to play against a Leeds team that contains Norman Hunter, Billy Bremner and Jack Charlton. Am feeling very confident I will sail through this one.

Saturday:

I make the mistake of hitting (quite literally) the toilets the same time as big Norm, little Billy and Mad Jack. As they wrestled on the piss covered floor (naked - their very own unique warm up), I slipped on my steel studs as I tried to stop myself entering the room. My grabbing of the door frame saw me somersault onto the tiles under a flying Charlton who was in the process of belly flopping Hunter and Bremner from the top of the armitage shanks 6 inch urinal. The resulting pile up saw me break my back. I'm out for a week.

Sunday:

Am going towards the light. Didn't reach the light. Fell down a disused mineshaft. As I lay, twisted and shattered in the darkness, I took the opportunity to ponder the complex structure of all physical reality. I considered that matter is energy in multitudinous forms, and as I did so my very being melted into a pool of yellow liquid. At that moment, a beam of sunlight penetrated the gloom of the mineshaft and in just a few seconds I was completely evaporated! Floating upwards, now in gaseous form, I once again burst forth into the open sky - and was immediately sucked into the air-conditioning system of a nearby office block. I've been here a couple of hours now; all the office workers have gone home sick. At last! I'm a French Legionnaire!

Monday:

I FINALLY PLAYED FOOTBALL..... OK. It was table football and unfortunately when I was up against Nemanja he tried to demonstrate how you do a sliding tackle with one of those sticks, impaling one of my testes as it shot through to my side. Still, at least he was sympathetic.

Tuesday:

Momma came over from Paris today. We had a lovely day together. She really loves my mansion. However, there was a terrible accident. I stood by the window, watching her as she walked the grounds. Oh, how far we've come from poor Paris! As she walked out, I saw her slip on some wet steps, slide down then snap her leg in two. It was exécrable! I shouted and wished to run to her aid. Unfortunately, a slight twinge in my hamstring meant I really couldn't help her. Still, I called an ambulance. After calling my helper dog bon-bon to bring the phone to me. I really couldn't leave my £3,500 lazy-boy - such was the dull, excruciating pain. I may not be fit for the weekend.

Wednesday:

Mr. Ferguson called again. He's not happy. Have just suffered a recurrence of carpal tunnel syndrome while typing this. Twisted my back while turning, fell off the chair, dislocated my shoulder getting up and aggravated my shinsplints.

Thursday:

Good news, my agent says Spurs are in for me. They haven't had a proper replacement for Darren Anderton. I open a bottle of champagne to celebrate and the cork hits me in the eye blinding me.
 

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The Gary Neville daires from back in the day are much better and funnier....

The Gary Neville Diaries
Friday

Put the cones out for Sir today and he glanced at me. Made me feel special. He never looks at Phil like that. Told Mum and she said I have to share but that's not fair because I got to the cones first. Moustache looks a bit thicker today.

Saturday

Won today but I didn't play :-( Watched MUTV all night to see whether Sir said he missed me. Am sure they edited it out. Hung out with Rio until he told me to 'go away innit'. Will tell Sir tomorrow. Deffo not a penalty today - gave that girl Boa Morte a nasty stare after the game to let him know that I know. Man in wheelchair laughed at my moustache. Cried myself to sleep.

Sunday

Took Sir an apple. But Weasley :) gave him a bottle of red wine so he'll probably play on Tuesday. Creep. Went to Mum's for dinner but she tried to make me eat sprouts and then laughed when I banged my fists on the kitchen lino. She won't laugh again. Read Sir's book in bed. Coloured in moustache with marker. Looks manly.

Monday

Rained at training. Marker wasn't permanent.

Tuesday (early)

Playing tonight so was definitely worth washing bibs for Sir. Looked at papers and I was in them again! Will put in scrapbook. So glad I said Porto don't act like men. Am really getting good at this mind games business. Photo on back of The Sun made my moustache look thin but Mum says it's just the ink. She says I look handsome.

Tuesday (late)

Not fair. Not fair. Not fair. It was a goal and we should have won and someone pushed me and someone tried to hurt Ronaldo and the girls dived on the floor and the referee blew the whistle before we could score and they celebrated in front of OUR fans and that made me so angry but I had to go and tell the TV that they deserved it (they didn't and I had my fingers crossed. Ha!). It's just not fair because we're the best team in the whole wide world.

Have given Philip a Chinese burn for that free-kick and told Sir to sell him.

Wednesday

Sir not happy today. He didn't even cheer up when I gave him my drawing. Wonder if he'll put it on his fridge with the others? Saw a small boy laughing at me so held him down until he said that Manchester United were the best team in the whole wide world. Feel better now. Bought some Re-Gane and put on top lip. Can't wait until the morning to see my bushy, manly 'tache.

Thursday

Phoned David to ask him to ask Elton about hair transplants. He said he was 'too busy preparing for the quarter-finals of the Champions League'. Am going to tell Sir and then I'm going to fly to Spain and then hold him down until he says that Manchester United are the best team in the whole wide world. And I'm going to take back the Man United sovereign ring I sent him for Christmas.

UPDATE

Mum says I can't go to Spain.
 
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