21.04.04; Warmer (not “More Warm”) Wednesday; 18:44


E-mail of the Week: hi lornadahl, you do really suck with resemblances. i was doing my best john cleese, mind you. **** p.s. looooove your friendster pic. pink is good. Only pre-election campaign I absolutely say Amen to: Please patronize pirated Filipino VCDs and DVDs so that the local movie industry will die and we will no longer have actors and actresses running for public allowance. (Thanks, melancolia!)




Today, Niwee, you no longer have a twin sister. Your myspace replica fucked a stolen Japanese steel, rose again in 20 minutes and called herself Gwendolyn. Pray for her soul.


The Yellow Bra Era’s last minute slowly approaches.


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Self-esteem repair is expensive. You may argue, dear saint, but in my case, it is. For a year now, I chose a job over a career simply because I buy my inner immortality.


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Saw my Binakayan crush today. Developments, developments!!! Aside from the eye contact and exchange of sweet smiles, I swear to God, to Allah, to Buddha, to Ronald McDonald, whoever – he darted his eyes towards my midsection when I deliberately and carelessly opened my legs wider than the usual on my seat. If only I didn’t have a pad waiting for my quite delayed period, I would have jumped on him and asked him to inspect my virgin forest. (Had to postpone shaving. Magazine showcased 3 David Beckham-inspired hairdos.)


Sigh. What a fine treat to my peepers. His firm refusal to sweets challenges my opinion-shaping tongue. His refined ways makes me want to be his knight. His height makes me yearn to be his sex slave.


But he can never be mine, no. He’d rather have my brother’s butt hole than the midsection he once paid attention to.


Stop it, Lorna. Stop it. Why do you keep on being attracted to gays and bad guys? You’ll never bed them.