An Open Letter

Deeeeeeeeeeeeear both, I don't like you. Either of you.

1) Let me address you first, yes you, the whitewashed one. You have an exponentially bothersome habit of re-routing my train of thought while you do your own Sinulog in front of everyone else, and I get stuck in heavy Escario traffic. You're a Magellan dancing like a lunatic. But I'm sorry where are my manners -- Hello, my name's Lapu-Lapu, and this is my sundang, you pontificating Yeti.

2) And speaking of pyrotechnics, yes, I'm speaking to you, you cacophonous corpulent circus Chihuahua. You have some pretty good tricks when your masters are around. which includes barking at anyone, regardless of who that person is. Hey, we report to a leader, so you go yip-yip-yip at our Alpha Male -- that is, if he understands dog-speak -- because it's only respectful to follow the chain of command and deviate only when absolutely necessary, when attempts at following the chain of command has proven futile. And by the way, only cats own humans, not dogs.

Translation: Yip! Yip! Yip-yip! Yip! Arf-arf-arf-yip! Grrrrrrrr --- Yip! Yip! Yip-yip!!! Grrrrrrrrr -- meow meow arf-arf-arf yip!!! Yip!!!

Random Thoughts

Anne is not real.
She used to be a student, but she didn't always go to class.
She's Mormon, but ceased to go to church.
She's a registered voter, but she doesn't always vote.
She's a girl, but... well...
Her hair glistens in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
Her eyes are like two brown circles with big black dots in the center.
She is as tall as a five-foot tree, only without the heels.
Her vocabulary can be as bad as, like, whatever.
But, she likes using alot of other words because the ones she needs to express herself succinctly have not yet been invented.
And she doesn't think every sentence has to end with a period.

Perpetually Bored!

I seriously think I should stop procrastinating.

But this whole training session has been so conducive about me just slacking off.

Perpetual boredome!