if you don't like something, change it.
if you can't change it, change your attitude.
mardi 19 août 2008 00:24
ten minutes to go, and the air, it dont feel clear. says: we saw him ten minutes to go, and the air, it dont feel clear. says: and den we talked bout u Kendrick says: WAH Kendrick says: WHY EVERYONE TALK ABT ME
cause you are an idiot kendrick, an idiot. hahahaha, you bloody fool.
well, somebody bring nevil to me now! i would be more than delighted to stuff his head in the toilet bowl now. he came up with stupid questions in his stupid paper today, asking repeated stuff, or stuff that never should have been even made known to mankind. i shall make pancakes out of his cheeks.
after the paper we studied at sharon's, again. and yes, her mother stuffed steph and i to death, again. sometimes i wonder if there was ever a revival elixir, how many bottles or litres would i have already wasted from laughing too much, eating too much, and studying too much. i pictured myself like a bullfrog that popped like a bubble from its own case of a freak accident, where it croaked and swelled too much. in this case, i guess i ate too much. you think?!?!
i was thankful for dinner and all, but steph's constant complains of "sharon. im stuffed, sharon." was not helping in any sense. once or a millionth time, i had the urge to slap her till the lady finger went dehiscent in her mouth, for my stomach was in nowhere of a better state.
on the other hand, sharon's laughters were diabolically setting themselves off and reverberated off the walls of her room. apparently that witch told her mum that she did not want to have dinner, and was neighborly kind enough to forget to help us tell her mum that steph and i would have preferred a tenth of the usual serving size. thanks to her, i felt pregnant enough to be unable to sit up straight, or even dared to lie down flat on the floor to continue writing my notes. i think i would have just spilled over the contents in my stomach.
we decided to cut some slack, and watched a little youtube. we ended up laughing endlessly, over my weird ass laughter, over russell peter, and over a toddler trying to pronounce blood. in the midst of our laughters, there was a distinctively sound of what seemed like a balloon letting loose, or simply, a fart. steph's face had a collection of 10% of "what the fuck just happened", mixed with a little 10% of "how do you think i should react" and maybe another 70% of "tell me that was not the nuclear bomb". there was an awkward silence, until much to my amazement, i heard myself saying a guilt-ridden "sorry", and made a further gesture of moving myself till the other side of the room.
you see, i have had a day's worth of flatulence due to the timing of the paper being placed at lunch time this afternoon, for a whooping hell two hours. i emerged from the room with my massive gastric eating me inside-out. and so, tell me, is it not hard to keep yourself from farting when you are laughing like some mad shit hyena, while your stomach is swelling up like someone's blowing it like a ballooon?!?! well i couldn't, unless you would shoved a cork up my ass. so i helplessly farted, much to steph's disgust, and much to both our amazement, sharon reacted totally like nothing had happened. it was so bloody loud, and she heard nothing of it. damn it, i shouldn't have admitted it then. hahahaha. alright, enough of the typing therapy for juicing out all that stress.
