OK, honestly, I don’t know any Mary (well, except for the one in the nursery rhyme). So let’s talk about Fàbregas instead - because there is definitely something about Fàbregas and because it’s more interesting to talk about him than a fictional character with a pet lamb (those nursery rhyme fans are so going to kill me for this statement).
Fàbregas has won the Young Player of The Year award (OK so Cristina won the Professional Footballers Association player of the year award). For more, read this, this and this. And he has pledged loyalty to Arsenal too.
The star is also due to star in his own live show shortly. Cor!
And there’s something about Arsenal too which inflicted injury on the pride of relegated Derby at Pride Park. And four of Arsenal players are in the Premier League team chosen by the PFA (Fàbregas, Adebayor, Sagna and Clichy) - no Chelshit player in there at all. The next season for Arsenal starts now.
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The first time I saw him, I couldn’t stop looking. Oh, he’s not that good-looking or handsome but there was just something about him that drew me to continue staring until I realised it was bordering on being rude. He’s not my usual type of guy – OK, maybe the type I’d go for when I was doing A-Level – with his slightly long hair (then) and dark features. Funny, I thought, I never found him attractive before.
Gradually, we got to talking. It takes time for me to be comfortable to someone new (so much so some people think I’m a stuck-up) and it’s no different with him. He’s the fun and jovial type whereas I can be mistaken as serious and aloof and arrogant.
But I’m sure nothing will come out of this. Because he’s wrong for me. Or rather, I’m all wrong for him – as I am for most of the male species. OK, we are both wrong for each other. And besides, who I am kidding? It’s not as if he even fancies me.
Stop this and get on with life already.
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