Carton drinks in replacement of chocolate.
I feel very blinded by red lights. It distinctively feels like Jessleen just draped the remainder red cellophane paper over my eyes. Though the main reason is probably the fact that I spent post-common test mocking Morgan's creativity (or lack of it. Either way is funny), sticking pennyangpows randomly on the walls of the classroom (going for the cliche, Red Red Red Gong Xi Gong Xi Ba Kwa Ba Kwa look) and wondering aloud the point of drowning the classroom in red paper when the judging for Best Decorated Classroom was already over. We didn't intend to win. And I guess it added on to the entire Why Are We Still Doing This? atmosphere. Nonetheless, it was Ms Ang's perserverance theory that won us over and we managed to lift a finger or two to staple a mosaic of red construction paper on the notice board.
For the life of me, I cannot understand why I was banned from wearing my D&G boxers around the house. Unless my father seems to have some kind of childhood trauma with glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs, please somebody explain why it seems atrociously sinful to parade comfy underwear. And at home, away from the prying eyes of the public and whatsoever. Which also seems to be somewhat irrelevant. Hello. They're boxers. Auntie LiLi goes to the market wearing checkered boxers. Devi, daughter of bus driver and claustrophobic, prances around the playground in grey boxers. Albert the school-drop out is in oblivion as his orange boxers scream Good Day, I am a Freak. Oh, how about Iffah? Iffah who? Iffah, the loser? Oh that Iffah! She steps out of the house in horrendously furring pyjama pants or on good days, random spewage from her mother's old stash of maternity wear.
Oh, okay the maternity wear thing was over the top. But, you get my point. I am not about to let this evolve to a social issue that might just affect my stand in society as a individual with a sound mind. Therefore, to brood on it would be restricted to the back of my mind while on the last train to Utopia.
Speaking of which, the comprehension today was very stimulating. Incubus, Nirvana and Modestmouse.
But seriouslyyyyyy. No Dolce?
For the life of me, I cannot understand why I was banned from wearing my D&G boxers around the house. Unless my father seems to have some kind of childhood trauma with glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs, please somebody explain why it seems atrociously sinful to parade comfy underwear. And at home, away from the prying eyes of the public and whatsoever. Which also seems to be somewhat irrelevant. Hello. They're boxers. Auntie LiLi goes to the market wearing checkered boxers. Devi, daughter of bus driver and claustrophobic, prances around the playground in grey boxers. Albert the school-drop out is in oblivion as his orange boxers scream Good Day, I am a Freak. Oh, how about Iffah? Iffah who? Iffah, the loser? Oh that Iffah! She steps out of the house in horrendously furring pyjama pants or on good days, random spewage from her mother's old stash of maternity wear.
Oh, okay the maternity wear thing was over the top. But, you get my point. I am not about to let this evolve to a social issue that might just affect my stand in society as a individual with a sound mind. Therefore, to brood on it would be restricted to the back of my mind while on the last train to Utopia.
Speaking of which, the comprehension today was very stimulating. Incubus, Nirvana and Modestmouse.
But seriouslyyyyyy. No Dolce?