giggle pop

Dear readers I fear I have a horrible disease. As some of you know last year I was diagnosed with Ikeritis. I had been (the exact opposite of) suffering from it for many years and I was finally able to pinpoint why I lost all function every time I saw a picture or even thought about Iker Casillas. While Ikeritis has been an amazingly pleasant experience, I fear I have contracted a new much worse disease, it is known as Cristianorhea.

I showed initial symptoms a while back when I had a very brief fascination with his abdominal and hipdippal regions, but I soon realized that it must be stopped. I stopped it quickly, I took high doses of Xavi, Gago, Iker, Pupi, Riccy, Ramos, Raul, Gigi, Canna, Gonzo and many other supplements from countries such Argentina, Spain, Italy and so on. (all of which were taken with a teaspoon of course). The symptoms subsided and totally disappeared. I managed to go on day to day hating overly gelled, overly tanned, cry-babies who played for horrible teams. Through my regiment I managed to avoid the initial strain of this disease, lets call it the Trafford-Strain-Simplex-7.

In the summer of 2009 the disease Cristianorhea morphed into a whole new strain and I fear I contracted it. This strain is known as the Merengues-Strain-Simplex-9-Galacticos. While a much milder form of the strain and much more pleasant it is also much more contagious.

I believe these pictures were taken around the time I was infected


The moment I saw this giddy face in the Real Madrid kit I felt hate fading. He just looked, so…so happy to a be a part of our club. I mean it was his dream, his dream was not to play for some annoying club in northern England his dream was to play in La Liga for Real Madrid.



The grease seemed much less shiny. I felt less disgusting loving his manbags, his abs, his hip dips, his thighs. It was like all the grossness was washed away when he took off that red kit and put on the white one

I no longer wanted to look away, no longer felt like I should, it just seemed so natural. It was like when he put on the blanco there was a sort of footie baptism and all of the things I hated were cute little quirks because he was now part of a team I loved not one I hated.

Oh dear me, I apologize, all that gushing was the disease talking, not me I swear. You see it addles the brains, I think and say things I never thought I would. I know many of you have not been infected, some have a natural immunity and never will. Some were infected by the original strain and can understand me. Those with the immunity please be kind and understand the strife those of us infected endure, I don’t think any of us wish for this disease, all we can do is live with it and hide it the best we can. I know in the past I was critical of those infected but I now see the errors of my ways there are some lustings you just cannot help and you never know when they will strike.

I am starting a support group for those of us infected and need a place to discuss our oh so wonderfully wrong feelings. Please let me know if you are interested, we are not alone.

Are you suffering from Cristianorhea? Here are some of the symptoms, if you experience two or more of these you are likely infected. If you have been infected, I unfortunately have not found a cure. But I have not been looking too hard.

Possible symptoms
• You have a folder of “Cristiano Ronaldo” pictures on your computer, that you hide under another name.
• You wonder, can he really be that diseased?
• You ask yourself “straight men can wear silver hot pants, right?”
• You see him fall and you think “Maybe that was not a dive”
• You believe he just had ice cream and went LV shopping with Paris
• You think to yourself “maybe he will stop his epic douchbaggary now that he has joined Real Madrid”
• He moves closer to the “want to chase with whipped cream and file in your mind” you also plan to bring purell on this chase
• You find yourself staring hungrily at his hipdips, abs, arms, etc
• You start to think well he has a cute smile and loves his mom
And last but not least
• You look at this pic and you find yourself thinking “I so would” when you know its so dirty



*note* even though I have this disease does not believe I do not fully standby anything I have said about him in the past. Nor does it mean I will ever stop making jokes about him, nor will I stop thinking jokes about him are frickin’ hilarious.

I keep meaning to write my profound thoughts on Real Madrid's transfer tactics this summer, but I am too traumatized to do so. I am trying to reconcile my love of the team and my hatered of Mr. Perez. Will write more soon, and in the mean time pray I do not get engulfed in the cloud of STDs produced by Ronnie and Paris mating.

As some of you may recall a while back I had a bit of a battle with a little squirrel in my yard that kept getting into a bird feeder. Well here is an update on the little brat. First off I named him Ronnie. Because like his namesake, he is annoying, ballsy, way too full of himself, and unfortunately good at what he does. Though, unlike Human-Ronnie, he is not doing step-overs, scoring goals, taking off his shirt, rolling on the ground, and banging prostitutes-- Squirrel-Ronnie is master at breaking into the damn bird feeder.

The other day I see him in the bird feeder so I decide to scare him away. I go outside he jumps out and sits on the ground and looks at me. Not one to back down to a challenge I throw my shoe at him. Squirrel-Ronnie dodges it skillfully and proceeds to chirp at me. Afraid of the ballsy little thing, and my history of being attacked by wildlife, I run back in the house. I glare out the window, now it is really on.

The next day I decide this is going to end once and for all. I grab a roll of duct tape and I duct tape the hell out of that bird feeder. The birds can still get in but there is no way Squirrel-Ronnie can get in, right? WRONG! For a few days I watch him try with futile efforts to get into the feeder, and laugh as he fails. But then what do you know, I come home from work and the cover (still covered in duct tape) is laying on the ground and Squirrel-Ronnie is up in the tree chirping at me, mocking me.

I am not sure what my next move will be, but this war is far from over.

Here is an old pic of Squirrel-Ronnie in the feeder.