Today is the only day in the year when I have a license to throw a prank on anyone and get away with it. Or at least, I think so...
I had it cooking. I hit the sack with a grin on my face. I guess that explains why I had more dried drool this morning than usual *ew! gross! haha.
I made a mental list of victims. This, one - check!... How about this one? --- Uh-oh, not that one, that one might sue me...I need smarter ones, I need a good sport.
So on the shower, I put it (the cooking, yo) to simmer...hehehe later, when it boils, I'll have it served. Yep, I'll have it served. I should nowhere be near the site lest I want a flying shoe landing on my forehead *OUCH!.. although it's tempting to see how the victims would react when, well, when they come to a boil..A little like this icon --->.
I waited for merienda time to make the seeming deed more believable. The script goes like this:
I am on my way to a friend's crib in Fairview. So I'll drop by Broadcast City, Capitol Hills to hand in a little surprise for the News & Public Affairs and Merchandise Teams. Someone (Victim #1) should meet me at the gate for I'll just hand it in and let my cabbie wait. So *hush, hush* while I was actuallly in a train bound to Magallanes Station, I waited til I alighted and told Victim #1 that I'm already at the gate. I called him up and I can hear him panting, catching his breath, what with the slopes he had to trek...then I fried him. He put the phone down. And up until now, he's not responding to my texts... Oh, well. Forgive a fool *wicked grin*
So then to make it up for him, I told him I'll get him even. And that will he please just ride on? I never knew if he did though, what I do know was that I had victims #2 and 3 on the boiling pot. I texted victim #2, she is to get a little surprise at Merchandise Department, or she could just ask victim #3 to do it since I am well aware how full her hands are all the time. So victim #3 had to go down two slopes and a stairway to "get the surprise"...then victim #2 texted, "are you kidding me?"... but my reply was ignored, yes, until now... my reply was, "no, I wan't kidding, just APRIL FOOLING"... So there. *burp*
Let's go back to my introductory blah-blah: today is the only day in the year when I have a license to throw a prank on anyone and get away with it. Or at least I think so...
I had it wrong. I didn't get away with it. It backfired at me real good!
I lost my pink pouch (*sigh, it was a christmas gift from my boyfriend's sweet sister Yeyeh). And in it is my well-loved slide-up phone which went with me through good and bad-angled headshots, its headset and old flex/ribbon that I just had replaced (for the seventh time..kidding, just three times). I think I left it while having lunch at Pancake House Gateway... too lovestruck with my VALENTINE DATE (we had MY celebration) to care about all other things... *sigh.
Plus! *Rant!* The autoload I paid for didn't reach my phone (good thing I still have my JURASSIC spare phone for globe sim) and it's much of a hassle to have to go back for it, so I didn't.
I'm not used to this. This is something strange for me. Weird, yeah. I'm weird this way,yeah. I am. Weird.
I'm not used to this. Not used to finishing something. I've always been the procrastinator. I've always left things, and thoughts, and relationships, half done. Unfinished. Hanging. Floating. Drifting.
So this thing here, this one here... I'm not used to this. But it's in my name now. It is. And I am.
So I guess I had better. Better. Get used to this. It's something I deserve, I guess. It's something that should've been mine way before. Way, way long before.
Despite my younger bro"s PANG-OOKRAY, my day went well...Before I hit the door, I summoned up enough patience not to strangle a gay brother... I could reeeeeeeeally hate him sometimes... HE could be bitchier than I am. And I hate that. I am the Queen Bitchessa, and today, he dethroned me! The nerve!
This is why I cleaned the toiletseat with his toothbrush... haha *kidding, I"m not THAT wicked, yo...
I put on my new moss-green gingham shirtdress with a matchy-matchy gingham belt to cinch it with and there he went, yakking about how I look as preppy as a worker in a ward, circa 50s. I wore it anyway... telling him it, indeed, is the look I wanna project! He said, he"s not buying it. And so will the fashion police....
*will finish this later, the apostrophe key bothers me....
Bring down title:
Sorry?...*sigh*
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... 
... haha *kidding, I"m not 
