Monday, April 17, 2006
i love mr a-z
When i say i am busy and exhausted, believe me and take it at face value. I don't know how else to prove my point.
I sat in front of the PC this evening to type out my helluva assignment and snap snap dush dush!
-blank-
When i finally regained consciousness, i am still sitting in front of the PC and Microsoft Word hasn't develop any sense to complete the assignment for me... blardy hell... and... discovered i've got drool. Too late. It has already made its way down nicely onto the bag on my lap. The drool pool. Nice work, man. Word's gotta learn some work man... i typed furiously on the keyboard, only to realize the words i produced made as much sense as me when i'm on crack. Backspacedspacedspacedspacedddddd! And then wham bam!
-blank- (again)
I wouldn't have woken up had my darling of a mother not snap a shot of my... hibernating face minus the drool, and the snapping sound sort of woke me up. My mom thinks it's funny. She's so wrong. She better watchout. Whip whip.
Partially done with the assignment. Took me a whole resting period to produce a mediocre piece of crap. But this crap i'll share with my partner in the same cubicle in the ward. 'Cause she and me are working on the same case... this poor kid. Now when i say poor, i don't mean financially but i could mean that too if i'd known about her monetary status but then why would i talk about that when there are other pressing matters to attend to such as... her nutritional status. Speaking of nutritional status, my stomach's kicking up a bigass fuss again. I can never understand it, thus i'm taking the easy way out and just starve. Teach the big guy a lesson. Okay bad. I am gassy now... bad bad bad.
My partner right? Was what i was saying before i digress, yeah? Yeah, my partner. She's cool. Makes life working there a happier experience. She's cute. I feel like Liberty next to her. I could kill some people in the ward right, but i decided to chill. Instead, i stuff their bags with the kids' waste. Okay not true. I wish! Ngahaa!
Doesn't make it easier to talk to me, nah? Nah, i'm like this. But i'm fine. Go easy on the rapport yeah, don't prick my bubble. Or i'll just. Hmm?
And.
Cher kicks ass! Big time! ((((=
I really think Mr Bak Qwa - no he doesn't deserve any title at all so it'll be just Bak Qwa - should pack his clothes nicely in his double-duty bags and waistpouch and if he hasn't enough space then pockets be fine too, and then take a lovely nice flight to hell.
Or, failure to comply, shall result in me being benevolent and philanthropic by offering him a one-way ticket on a luxury cruise roundabout the globe to the Bermuda Triangle. Now don't say this is no better than hell. Fine, shall kick him off to space where'll he'll visit the Black Hole. Send us postcards yeah, sweetie!
Oh go rot.
--------------------------------------------------------
fara // 21:57
i love mr a-z
When i say i am busy and exhausted, believe me and take it at face value. I don't know how else to prove my point.
I sat in front of the PC this evening to type out my helluva assignment and snap snap dush dush!
-blank-
When i finally regained consciousness, i am still sitting in front of the PC and Microsoft Word hasn't develop any sense to complete the assignment for me... blardy hell... and... discovered i've got drool. Too late. It has already made its way down nicely onto the bag on my lap. The drool pool. Nice work, man. Word's gotta learn some work man... i typed furiously on the keyboard, only to realize the words i produced made as much sense as me when i'm on crack. Backspacedspacedspacedspacedddddd! And then wham bam!
-blank- (again)
I wouldn't have woken up had my darling of a mother not snap a shot of my... hibernating face minus the drool, and the snapping sound sort of woke me up. My mom thinks it's funny. She's so wrong. She better watchout. Whip whip.
Partially done with the assignment. Took me a whole resting period to produce a mediocre piece of crap. But this crap i'll share with my partner in the same cubicle in the ward. 'Cause she and me are working on the same case... this poor kid. Now when i say poor, i don't mean financially but i could mean that too if i'd known about her monetary status but then why would i talk about that when there are other pressing matters to attend to such as... her nutritional status. Speaking of nutritional status, my stomach's kicking up a bigass fuss again. I can never understand it, thus i'm taking the easy way out and just starve. Teach the big guy a lesson. Okay bad. I am gassy now... bad bad bad.
My partner right? Was what i was saying before i digress, yeah? Yeah, my partner. She's cool. Makes life working there a happier experience. She's cute. I feel like Liberty next to her. I could kill some people in the ward right, but i decided to chill. Instead, i stuff their bags with the kids' waste. Okay not true. I wish! Ngahaa!
Doesn't make it easier to talk to me, nah? Nah, i'm like this. But i'm fine. Go easy on the rapport yeah, don't prick my bubble. Or i'll just. Hmm?
And.
Cher kicks ass! Big time! ((((=
I really think Mr Bak Qwa - no he doesn't deserve any title at all so it'll be just Bak Qwa - should pack his clothes nicely in his double-duty bags and waistpouch and if he hasn't enough space then pockets be fine too, and then take a lovely nice flight to hell.
Or, failure to comply, shall result in me being benevolent and philanthropic by offering him a one-way ticket on a luxury cruise roundabout the globe to the Bermuda Triangle. Now don't say this is no better than hell. Fine, shall kick him off to space where'll he'll visit the Black Hole. Send us postcards yeah, sweetie!
Oh go rot.
fara // 21:57
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♥ Fara. Forever20. Nurse. In the pursuit of kidnapping Happy.
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