Holy Mother Teresa Cinnamon Bun, I shouldn't have taken summer classes. :c

Books I'm required to read within a month:

• 100 Events That Shaped The Philippines (Because I didn't take KAS 1. Booooooo.)
• The First Filipino
• Noli Me Tangere (in Filipino!X0)
• El Filibusterismo (in Spanish!X0 (Get a grip, Tobey. The only Spanish you know is puñeta.XP) Nay, in Filipino.)
• Beowulf (which I have finished reading :p)
• Canterbury Tales
• The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Dr. Faustus
• Shakespearean Sonnets (NOOOOOOOOO! Not Shakespeare again!X0)
• Paradise Lost
• The Life and Opinions of Tristam Shandy
• and other soporific essays and poems

Today is a splendidly boring day.XP I bored myself reading Tagalog essays and writing two Tagalog essays.:p Those, and hunting mosquitoes in the house and electrifying them to death with my instrument of doom and gloom and utter destruction, The Tennis Racket Mosquito Kablitzer. I have been in constant battle with insects, particularly mosquitoes and ants, ever since I peeled my eyes open to the world and the universe and everything. I surmise they have long been attracted to me because of my sweet blood, which I inherited from my father's and grandfather's diabetic DNA. I might have mild diabetes--the HORRORS.X0--acquired genetically and aggravated by too much liquor. I am perpetually thirsty; I guzzle water like a fish and piss a jillion times a day. Water has always been a major part of my daily biological requirements that I get the suspicion I may have spent my past life as a mermaid.

Kablitzing mosquitoes to death is an excellent past time for exercise. It's like playing tennis except it's indoors and you always win since you don't have an opponent to begin with. The renovated playground at the back of the house has been attracting human beings similarly bored to death and have nothing to do with their mediocre existence, and of course, more people means more garbage and more garbage means more squadrons of insects, which get into the house through the kitchen vents. An armada of ants has been marching into my room and cleaning the scraps of food and junk on the floor, including my fingernails and toenails o_o thus serving as my creepy-crawly sweepers. It's a symbiotic relationship. I just don't like it when they force their pinchers into my skin while I'm dreaming of touching Johnny Depp's hot and sexy mustache.

HOOOOOOOOTT--okay, wrong picture.

I meant this Johnny Depp, silly.XD

So HOT HOOOTT HOOOOOOOOTTTT!!!X00 Just the thought of his mustache makes me cream my underwear. I'm afraid I have Mustache Envy.XP I just care about his mustache and nothing else, not his face, not his fame, not his acting career, no, nada. His mustache is The Avatar of Machismo. Any spineless wimpy idiot can turn himself into a Demigod of Virility by just sprinkling water and growing that bristle of hair. Think of Friedrich Nietzsche, Jesus Christ, and Jose Rizal. What do they all have in common besides pricks? A mustache. Bingo. It's a symbol of anarchy, revolution, new order, and sensational cunnilingus.

Word Up

Pepe Alas
12.05.10 - 07:35

I might be able to help you with the Spanish stuff, ma'am. =)

Word did you say?

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