Secret Diary of Michael Ballack....JA! Updated

Torrente wrote:Could you give me a link to this? This stuff is great. The Carvalho CD bit had me in tears from laughter

Handsome Prince Of Saxony wrote:
He calmed down and we watched an episode of 'Will & Grace'. It is too funny. I love it. They live together but he is a gay gentleman and she has the boyfriend complications. So crazy, they are behaving like a married old couple. It makes me laugh.

Handsome Prince Of Saxony wrote:
There were some very long faces. JT was quiet, Lampsy was miserable. In the shock, he didn't even touch his Mini-Cheddars snack biscuits that he keeps in his adidas fußball strumphosen.

Saturday
JA! Today I have taken my family for a treat. We went to London's bright lights for a Ballack family trip. So cool, I love London. I invite Ricky Carvalho because I don't think he has any friends or a lover, but he did not want to come with me. I think he still pretends to be frightened of me! In Germany we call persons like Ricky a 'narr'.

Without Ricky we went to some of the best historical and entertainment sightings that London, nein, the World has to offer.

Inside The Trocadero we made some novelty photos of my children as The Simpsons, and there was one of me pretending to be a Chelsea player in the Champions League final, with some clever photo-imposing trick. This photos will be on my mantelpiece for many years!

Then we decided to eat something tasty, so we found Pizza's Express. I phoned Lampsy on my mobile telephone to invite him and Elen, but it went straight into answerphone after a few rings. He must have been very busy. Or maybe he has changed mobile. There is no way Lampsy ignores my ringing! We are 'mates' as they say in London and Britain. And his car is often full of the empty pizza's boxes. I know he likes to eat pizza.


Sunday
I was awoken by a ringing on my very private mobile telephone this morning. Very few people are having this number. Only my family, Boris Becker, coach of the Deutsche mannschaft Joachim Löw and JT and Lampsy has this number. Since I am knowing that JT and Lampsy never call me, I knew it was Joachim. He told me that he wanted that I play for Deutschland against Ireland on October 13th (for the European Championships, which we have won three times. 1972, 1980 and 1996. JT, Lampsy, Ashley, Wayne, Josef, and that tiny little boy Shaun Phillips - You have never won it!). I don't know if I can be fit but I will do everything possible to feel my Fatherland's adidas tunic on my skin again.

After my chatting with Joachim I called Ricky Carvalho to see if he wanted to watch Chelsea Football Club against Aston Villa with me and my family on our large television set. He answered after much ringing and sounded confused. I think he has the problems with technology and finds it difficult. He said that he wanted to watch Chelsea v Villa with us for sure!

Ricky arrived an hour late because I think he got lost. He was confused and panic looking. I made him a nice cup of German blond lager beer and he calmed down very fast. Without us the Blues were losing and although this Obi Mikel is a nice boy, he isn't Michael Ballack the handsome prince of Saxony, and the team failed. Ricky missed the second goal of the Aston Villa because he was locked inside the toilet by accident.

After the sad game we watched a film, 'Austin Powers Goldmember 3' and it was so funny. My children begged me to do my Austin Powers impersonation again to surprise Ricky. I said I was going upstairs to make some press-ups, but changed into my Austin Powers costume and then jumped out at Ricky when he was on his own in the kitchen. "JA! RICKY BABY I WANT TO SHAG YOU!" I screamed and he went the colour of a bed's sheet and ran into his car and drived off at high speed. He left his Prada shoes and jacket he was in such the hurry.


Monday
My agent is calling me today for a serious chat. I will meet him tomorrow to discuss something. Maybe Chelsea wants to offer me a big new deal. £121,000 every week is too small for London's glittering box of delightful items and attractions.

I think I am very loyal, in the summer I could have moved to Real Madrid, but I said no and stayed in Stamford Bridge to get very fit and win my dressing-room shirt's peg back! Robben the tiny falling baby went to Real, he ran away from the England Premier League. But not I.

When Madrid made some enquiry in July, Ashley Cole said I should 'do one' and I didn't know what it means, but I asked a friend in my favourite shop The Disney Store (I love the Disney Store, you can buy the Monster's Inc cup and plate combination! So cute! And only £20, maybe is £30...cheap as chipped potatoes!). My friend told me 'Do one' means say 'nein' to their offer and ignore them. Ash wanted me to stay with Chelsea. He is a gut boy. I think I will invite him and Cheryl for a concert, I know she works in music. We can see Michael Bolton or something like.


Tuesday
What a funny country, today the press is crazy in England! They are so stupid. I want to help them understand the truth. On April 27th, Hans-Wilhelm Müller-Wohlfahrt, a brilliant German doktor, was operating on my ankle. And he has made a miracle with his hands. But he is not a magic man, and it is taking time for me to get better.

So Chelsea Football Club is giving me time to relax and recover. They are not listing me in the Champions League, so I can relax! Where ist the problems? Newspapers, stop getting in the twist. I am a Chelsea Blue Pensioner and am committed to the club. But if these papers don't stop giving me hassle I might change my ideas. I meet my agent for an unterredung chat and we access the options...

robert wrote:Very funny, but don't hold a candle to the Rio Ferdinand diaries on 606. That dude was genius,

forza_rossi wrote:

robert wrote:Very funny, but don't hold a candle to the Rio Ferdinand diaries on 606. That dude was genius,

That was pure gold. wonder why he never came here.

Friday 16th Febwerry 2K7

Show your guns, show your guns! Brap brap brap! Word to Muvver! Watta Gwarn wid all 442 heads? Yes, big up, dis is da mainest man back again - Reo Furdnan! Booyah, back in da muvver-lovin house! Now I know me ain’t done my diary in bare time so peepz woz probably worrying about me and ting, ya get me? But relax guy, I’m back again fresh as ever, been flexing bare gal, running tingz norf n south, chillin’ like a villain, smoking bare trees, iced out like a polar bear, merking peeps right, left and muvver-lovin centre, true say!
Anyway, yeah, a lot has happened since I talked to yous guyz lastest, ya get me? It has been a year of highs and lows, (not dat kind of high, you ain’t catchin me dat easy again FA, trust!). There was major disappointment in summer 2K6, it seemed there was a lot of hexpectations from everyone in the country, but unfortunately the tournament didn’t go quite as planned: My bruvver Anton beat me in da final of our Pro Evo competition on da Play Station. I gambled big and lost, and as a consequence Anton won my place on da top bunk of our bunk-beds for 3 whole months! In dat 3 month it woz a dark time and I done a lot of soul-searchin. It ain’t nice sleepin in da stains from when Anton used to wet da bed. But hopefully I’m anuva year older, and also anuva year wiser now, ya get me? Anyway, it was Wazza’s fault dat I lost, dat lickle twat! Cos he told me if you sit on your hand for a hour and den have a tug it feels like someone else is doing it for you. (I done it, it was sick!) So I done it yeah, but then my hand was wrecked in da tournament, gutted! Dat iz life: highz and lowz all wrapped up in one! Say La Vee!
Anyway, don’t get vexed! I done da World Cup in da summer! Dat was wicked! It was in Germania, dat was proper sick! I boned bare german gal. Peckum represent! Larkmead estate baby! Ya get me? I got a well sick porno from over there too, its got dis well bum gal, a proper fly honey, getting boned by a german shepard, and I ain’t talking about no Sheepman Leeds fan, ya get me? Sick! But I lent it Daz F and he ain’t give it back yet. I don’t fink he’s gonna give it back either to be honest, cos he don’t get no gal, well he ain’t gonna is he lookin like dat and speakin dat stupid rab c nesbitt language all da time? Ya see women like mans of da world like reo here, or say, face-man from A-team or LL Cool J. Ya see, some guyz like us iz born true playaz and bonafide mack-daddies, whereas uvvers like my spa Daz F or my lickle bro Anton just fink a hard-on is for peeing over high-wallz, ya get me?
Whatever yeah, a true bushman never gives away his secrets, but its like dis: birds love money, yeah? Splash da cash, get a few bottles of crystal going, sing some R’n’B ina their ear, and da gal iz gagging for it! Trust me, I pulled thirsty Kirsty Gallagher, for real! Ya get me? No diggidy!
Anyway, my life having ho’s in different post-codes is over now, trust. Now I’m a father for the 1st time (you can’t prove otherwise Taneesha, dis is my FIRST kid, so you best stop chattin macka on da estate about me, dat lickle brat of yourz ain’t mine, and I can prove it cos you can’t get preggers off bwatty-love, ya get me?!) Hanyway yeah, so my gal give birf and has now graduated to becomin my baby-mama. We had a lickle bwoy and his name is Lorunz. I tell you, you’ve never seen a baby so Iced-out as him, he’s blingin like Ice-T’s xmas tree. Da stupid nurse made me take all his bling off though when they weighed him, which I thought woz a bit jekyl cos he only weighed half as much wivout it, whatever, he’s only a baby, who gives a sh**? I’s got him some sick lickle Timberland’s now, and he busts some sweet lickle Tommy H and Christeen Dior. Cos I’s got’s to take care of him, I gots responsibilities , because if it was up to his muvver he’d be wearing George-by-Asda, ya get me?
Being a baby-poppa makes me nostalgic for da dayz when I was a lickle bloodclart running round da larkmead estate like a bear wiv a bee up its arse. Aah, happy dayz: wagging school, going arcade, den gwarning round my mate Leeroy’z house to watch some Freddies and pretendin dat you wasn’t frightened (I wasn’t, I don’t care wot anyone sez!) den runnin home to watch my favouritest programme- Desmondz! Desmondz was proper sick, all dem old manz like Porkpie and dat Hafrican man and ting just sat in da barberz chattin, sick! Me and Anton walked bare miles round Peckum one time trying to find Desmondz so Desmond could trim my flat top and maybe I could get on telly. We never found it, when I got back my mum hexplained dat Desmondz wasn’t a real place, gutted! I cried til snot came out my nose, I mean, no I never, Anton did, I just had dirt in my eye or suttin, whatever!
Yo, I was proper scared when I heard we got Reading tomorrow Cos I seen it written down in da Sun, which iz da bestest newspaper in da world, proper bum gal on page 3 and everyting, ya get me? (Roopert, show me da money! You knowz where to send da cheque) It took me back to school dayz like I say, cos I thought we had to do reading. Like reading a book and ting! Man like Reo don’t read book, he write book! Well my ghostman do, writing my hautobiography and filosophies and dat yeah, out last summer, its basically like Da Godfathaz 1 & 2 (but not 3 dat was robbish) but in book form, ya getz?) Whatever yeah, if there was one ting and school dat I wasn’t dat good at it was reading. Or writing. Or remembering when hexams was. Or doing adding and taking awayin. Obviously I learnt my sums in da end because how can manz be a dealer if you don’t even know many eighths in a ounce? Ya get me, ghetto heducation, street life, true say! Whatever, wot woz I banging on about? I forget, too much of dat sweet super-skunk, believe! Skool dayz, dat woz it, yeah, I woz good at sometings, like PE and Gal, I got an A*Star in Poo-tang! In fact I was leader of da Poo-tang Clan! Bukkah bukkah bukkah!
But dere iz a rumour a-gwarnin dat man like Reo used to do ballet when I was a lickle mandem, now, I ain’t confirmin or denyin dis, but iz hactually true. Whatever! It takes a real man to be able to stand up and hadmit dat he somes does fingz which are a lickle bit bwatty. True-say. And anywayz, ballet iz just like breakdancing, but for bwattymanz. 2pac used 2 do it 2. Plus I got to see bare fit gal in lickle pink leotardz, so who’z laughing now Anton? So shut up and stop chattin robbish bout me! Or I’ll merk you up and tie your braidz to da bed when your hasleep again, and den dip your lickle finga in a glass of cold water so you wet da bed again! And dis time I’ll be on da top bunk so it won’t drip down on me again like last time, bee-atch!
Yo, I fink I just heard a five-oh siren, I best jet. Laterz 442 headz! Keep it real!

L r d wrote: the guy should be getting paid for that stuff