I sit down and ponder

Just the day, I was arguing with one of the students. We were debating about death. He mentioned that it was no good dying young. I had to differ. “You cannot repent in time,” he said. “But if it’s time to go, you have to go,” I said. “Die young…a lot of sins…never repent..how to go heaven, cher?” he continued. “Well, I guess I am fine with hell. There are clubs there,” I concluded.


Of course God, I didn’t mean it.
Sorry big guy.
I do want to go to heaven.
I do, I do.


Watching Liverpool-Galatasaray match right now and the latter had just scored (3-2 to L’pool now). Crouch had just scored a beautiful (yeah even a non-believer like me HAS to admit it) goal (his 2nd in the match) and the Reds are dominating the game. I wish Galatasaray can bounce back. Hell, I hope they win. But ..aiyah.. I think Crouch is on a roll tonight. COME ON GALATASARAY!


Damn those freakish long legs.

Sharinah and I went to trim our hair and were “psycho-ed” by the effeminate hair stylist to rebond our hair. He was zero-ing in on our weakness – curly, frizzy hair. I told him nope. Don’t think m y hair can take another beating. Let it rest already, while I grow it longer. Then we see what we can do to it.

We KFC-ed during break-fast time. Hadn’t had fast food for quite a while and that is good. Felt quite guilty eating outside cause when I got back, the parents had already prepared tons of food. Told them I would eat later but I fell asleep all the way to 0230hrs (yes it’s 0400hrs now and I am wide awake). Now, I am just eating my Lindt Excellence Ecuador 75% Intense Dark chocolate. Think the food can be eaten tomorrow night.


I lovefucking love dark chocolates. And this has got to be one of the good ones I’ve tasted. Didn’t try many obviously. I am a creature of habit and familiarity.


Oh well.

Am conducting an open-book Lit test tomorrow. Now the problem is, did I tell the kids to bring their books? Sheesh. I don’t understand these kids. What’s with keeping their books at home???? Will their parents read abridged Shakespeare? Why bother having a timetable if you don’t bloody stick to it. What’s inside your freaking bag anyway?


Okay, I don’t want to know.


A thousand times goodnight, hormonally-charged students.



P/S: Some male students have been getting quite bold. Do I look like a potential gf to you? Wake up your freaking idea.


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