WARNING!!!
This post was written for the sole purpose of updating a blog (because if I don't update it, it feels just like I'm neglecting a pet). I'm not in the mood to type, don't make me mad.
I'm stressed, yet again. Nervous for our report tomorrow because I have no idea about it and how to do it. (To my groupmates: the Beeches are just behind us! This is a metaphor for others, guess it right and I'll give you something.)Well, I have been busy the past few days (oh ok, it has been weeks!) playing an online game. Our helper describes it in the most creative way I could have ever imagined: little people running around. She used those words when reprimanding me for playing. Sample: "Are you playing that game with those little people running around again?"
Then I have this guildmate (guild = group in the game) claiming to be a SWAT, or a future cop, I think. Funny, I just watched The Departed the day he said those things about a police. I bombarded him with questions, yes, I was doubting everything. Sorry about that. (No, I won't give out any more information about this, police confidentiality. He might read my blog and arrest me. Fart these word vomits, I'm getting worse every second.)
I went to school earlier than my usual T-Th schedule because of our scavenger hunt in the library for English class. Anyway, after that, I stayed in the lib to study for our test (that is what I tell people, but really, I just like the aircon. Woohoo!). Then a girl sat opposite me, we had the same bag (except hers was dirty, kidding! but true). Then when I was about to leave (I was done studying, err, savoring the congested air), I restrained myself from telling her, "Hey, nice bag!"
Today we had a 1 mile run for PE. And I thought it would be easy. I was wrong, dead cardio-vascularly wrong. I was gasping for air during my jog back (almost the entire way back). I felt my lungs would explode, no, not from pollution, (no, my ribs were not piercing it either. What's wrong with you?!) but because I was trying to breathe so much. I won't disclose any information about my frigging Calculus long test a while ago, unless you tie me up and make me eat raw meat with incandescent lamp swirling on top of my head. Hmm, that must seem to be mortifying but somehow I don't give out that effect. Torture me, instead, that would feel better.
Whoever understood what I just posted must've have an IQ of 300. Kudos to Big Bang. See, my post is educational, it must be included in the Code.
Actually, there is something you have to decipher in this post, if you can find it, tell me ASAP. Hellementary, my dear Watson, hellementary.
MORAL: Spread the word, not the virus. I love jargon. It's not a food, no, not a sport either. I said it, so it's just plain nonsense. Oh, computer chairs are efficient as temporary wheelchairs inside houses. (Push my chair!) Ruth is not the Root of All Evil.. Whoever said that would be receiving hate mails from me. Money is not the root of evil as well; IT IS GREED. Trust me on this.
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