Thursday's a pretty pretty day.
I'm feeling pretty pretty today.
Don't you feel pretty pretty today?

Social Studies is social suicide.
A. Math is double trouble.
I'm screwed.

I've been talking to myself lately.
My mind's got a mind of its own, you see.
So I'll communicate with it through blood cells and brainwaves.
We communicated during the bus ride home.
It was so fun!

Have you ever noticed your primary school mates?
Is it only me or do they grow up to become bitchier or a bitch?
Why not grow up to be a dinosaur or a pig or a donkey or a.. okay syahrul, we get it.

I met Mr.Y at the bus stop sucking pearls from his bubble tea drink.
He was sucking it gayly.
In the context of happiness, mind you.
And talking of bubble teas, is a pretty long time since I drank one.

And did you know Gre-go-ry is an amusing name?
I find it fascinating to say Gre-go-ry.
AND! Gre-go-ry's butt was poked by an army of needles.
Not literally but when he's laughing.
Yes, it's a proven fact.


Greg's got sex and I've got Y.